Read Online Promise Me Heaven by Connie Brockway - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Connie Brockway
Ads: Link
price. You have made yourself invaluable, Thomas. Sir Knowlton has need of you.”
“I am here as escort to a respectable young lady. I have no intention of once more dancing on the end of your leash.”
“Ah, yes. The beauteous Lady Catherine. The favor Sir Knowlton begs should not interfere with your other obligations,” Seward said, a note of entreaty barely discernible in his urbane tone. It was this that prompted Thomas to reply. He had never before heard it in Seward’s voice.
“What is this favor?”
“Merely meeting with an old acquaintance, exchanging information, pleasantries.”
“Who?”
“Daphne Bernard.”
“What is she doing here?”
“She has taken the opportunity afforded by Napoleon’s exile to leave Paris and come here to visit her sister and her brother-in-law, Viscount Addler. You remember. That is why she was originally induced to betray her French military lovers: her familial ties to England.”
“English gold is the only thing that has ever had any influence over that woman.”
“Whatever her reasons, they need not concern us. We need only know that her latest lover was a commander under Napoleon’s regime. She claims she can deliver reliable information about the number of troops still loyal to him.”
“Anyone can get the information from her. Why me?”
Seward shrugged. “How am I to know? She heard you were in Brighton and demands you be the courier for her information. Maybe she has fond memories of earlier meetings. Perhaps she is sentimental.”
Seward’s mouth tightened as he noted the expression of disgust that Thomas quickly conquered. He stood up. “I will extend your regrets to Prinny and Sir Knowlton.”
“You finally have justifications for your bigotry, haven’t you, Seward?” Thomas asked.
The expression of surprise on the other man’s features was genuine. “Justification? Before I ever met you, I had justification for my ‘bigotry,’ Montrose. I knew you before I ever set eyes upon you. Eight years ago you were a cocksure hell-raiser. Untitled, true, but still a pink of the ton, as easy with a Cyprian as a duchess. For whatever reason, whatever ennui that particular season had induced in you, you chose to make yourself useful to us. And you were.”
Seward dusted an imaginary speck from his coat sleeve, controlling the anger that had uncharacteristically erupted. When he looked up, his expression was once more carefully bland. “It was amusing, wasn’t it? All the intrigue, the French mistresses, the dark lure of danger. What happened? A friend died? Was tortured perhaps? And then it was not so amusing and, finally, not fun at all. And now you have adopted this provincial moral rectitude. Because it isn’t fun any longer. Or,” he said, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, “is it Lady Catherine?”
Seward cocked his head, noting the flare of Thomas’s nostril, the unnatural stillness of his body. Seward shrugged.
“You take exception to being used,” he said. “Well, there it is. Of course, your sudden attack of conscience might prove unfortunate for those to whom this is more than a game to assuage boredom. But it is no more than I expected. I am only surprised that it has taken so long for you to cry off. But it is, of course, your
privilege
.” He sneered the last word and bent to pick up his hat and walking stick.
“God damn you, Seward.”
“Quite likely. Good-bye, Thomas.”
“Leave the message,” Thomas clipped out as Seward passed him. “I make no promises. I will consider it, that is all. But know this. I am not drawn into this business by any need to elevate myself in your estimation. Your antipathy is a matter of indifference to me. I consider your superiority and social prejudices a handicap to the natural intellect you might possess. A shame. I am not manipulated in this by you, Seward.”
Seward dropped the missive on a small table by the door. He turned only after he was standing in the hallway. “Of course not,
“I am here as escort to a respectable young lady. I have no intention of once more dancing on the end of your leash.”
“Ah, yes. The beauteous Lady Catherine. The favor Sir Knowlton begs should not interfere with your other obligations,” Seward said, a note of entreaty barely discernible in his urbane tone. It was this that prompted Thomas to reply. He had never before heard it in Seward’s voice.
“What is this favor?”
“Merely meeting with an old acquaintance, exchanging information, pleasantries.”
“Who?”
“Daphne Bernard.”
“What is she doing here?”
“She has taken the opportunity afforded by Napoleon’s exile to leave Paris and come here to visit her sister and her brother-in-law, Viscount Addler. You remember. That is why she was originally induced to betray her French military lovers: her familial ties to England.”
“English gold is the only thing that has ever had any influence over that woman.”
“Whatever her reasons, they need not concern us. We need only know that her latest lover was a commander under Napoleon’s regime. She claims she can deliver reliable information about the number of troops still loyal to him.”
“Anyone can get the information from her. Why me?”
Seward shrugged. “How am I to know? She heard you were in Brighton and demands you be the courier for her information. Maybe she has fond memories of earlier meetings. Perhaps she is sentimental.”
Seward’s mouth tightened as he noted the expression of disgust that Thomas quickly conquered. He stood up. “I will extend your regrets to Prinny and Sir Knowlton.”
“You finally have justifications for your bigotry, haven’t you, Seward?” Thomas asked.
The expression of surprise on the other man’s features was genuine. “Justification? Before I ever met you, I had justification for my ‘bigotry,’ Montrose. I knew you before I ever set eyes upon you. Eight years ago you were a cocksure hell-raiser. Untitled, true, but still a pink of the ton, as easy with a Cyprian as a duchess. For whatever reason, whatever ennui that particular season had induced in you, you chose to make yourself useful to us. And you were.”
Seward dusted an imaginary speck from his coat sleeve, controlling the anger that had uncharacteristically erupted. When he looked up, his expression was once more carefully bland. “It was amusing, wasn’t it? All the intrigue, the French mistresses, the dark lure of danger. What happened? A friend died? Was tortured perhaps? And then it was not so amusing and, finally, not fun at all. And now you have adopted this provincial moral rectitude. Because it isn’t fun any longer. Or,” he said, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, “is it Lady Catherine?”
Seward cocked his head, noting the flare of Thomas’s nostril, the unnatural stillness of his body. Seward shrugged.
“You take exception to being used,” he said. “Well, there it is. Of course, your sudden attack of conscience might prove unfortunate for those to whom this is more than a game to assuage boredom. But it is no more than I expected. I am only surprised that it has taken so long for you to cry off. But it is, of course, your
privilege
.” He sneered the last word and bent to pick up his hat and walking stick.
“God damn you, Seward.”
“Quite likely. Good-bye, Thomas.”
“Leave the message,” Thomas clipped out as Seward passed him. “I make no promises. I will consider it, that is all. But know this. I am not drawn into this business by any need to elevate myself in your estimation. Your antipathy is a matter of indifference to me. I consider your superiority and social prejudices a handicap to the natural intellect you might possess. A shame. I am not manipulated in this by you, Seward.”
Seward dropped the missive on a small table by the door. He turned only after he was standing in the hallway. “Of course not,
Similar Books
