Page 49 of My Gentleman Spy
Lust for thechase.
Hattie had outwitted and outplayed him at every turn. Every time he thought he had gotten the measure of her, she had shown him a clean pair ofheels.
She had made a fool of him. He was now hell bent on finding her. What he would do to her when he did eventually catch up with Hattie, he was not entirely certain. His body hardened, sure in the knowledge that it knew exactly what it wanted to do. Hattie was one drug he knew he would never be able to get fully out of hissystem.
The tavern wench sat staring at Will, a deep frown line on herbrow.
“You're not going to hurt her, are you?” sheasked.
Will had read at least one female right. The girl seated next to him had figured out his role in thestory.
“No, I am not. I never did and never will. Believe me when I tell you every single one of us has been duped by a very cleverliar.”
He rose from his seat. He had what he needed. To linger any longer invited trouble from anyCanis Majorcrew members who may still be in thetavern.
“You do look lovely in that dress,” hesaid.
The girl downed the last of Will’s beer and got to her feet. She stood for a moment smoothing her skirts. The dress fitted her like it had been made by a dressmaker with exactly the girl's measurements in mind. She turned and began to walk away, then stopped and turned back toWill.
“I wouldn't come here again if I were you sir. I have a gift for remembering faces and my man will know you came here looking forher.”
Will nodded. He hoped his days of crawling through the underbelly of society wereover.
Once outside the tavern he hailed a hack. As he climbed aboard, his parents address was almost upon his lips, but then hestopped.
How could he face his family and the expected joyful home coming? His mother would be full of questions regarding his recent travels on the continent. The tavern girl's revelations regarding the fate of Hattie had his mind inturmoil.
The reunion must wait. His parents and siblings deserved a cheerful and loquacious Will Saunders. His current mood was anything but. His emotions and instinct were locked in a battle for hisattention.
There were a few things of which he was certain. One was that if Hattie had thought she had successfully slipped through his fingers she was sadlymistaken.
He also knew he needed a plan; and a good plan demanded anally.
The path to finding Hattie and unlocking her secrets would begin at the home of the two people who understood the life of a spy as well as he did. The Earl and Countess ofShale.
“Duke Street,” he instructed thedriver.
