Read Online The Rejected Suitor by Teresa McCarthy - Free Book Online
Authors: Teresa McCarthy
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stopped and turned to face her. "I must
insist that you curtail your visits to Whitehall at once."
"At
once? By George or what are you going to do?"
He
rubbed a hand across his face. "I have no idea." Though his superiors
had kept Black Wolf and Silver Fox apart for reasons of safety, the danger had
greatly diminished now that Napoleon had been banished. Yet, he was led to
believe the existence of Silver Fox had never been disclosed to the public.
"I
can see you are not going to disclose your contact," he said to his aunt
as he tried desperately to curb his rage, "but I demand to know what you
know about Silver Fox."
Agatha
pounded her parasol against the floor. "I refuse to speak. I have
obviously said too much already. Moreover, everyone in England has heard of
Black Wolf, and a handful of people have heard about Silver Fox as well. So
there."
A
handful of people? Was she mad? "Come now, Agatha. Tell me of your
information. I promise you, it will go no further than this table."
"Goodness,"
she laughed. "You do not truly believe that I would divulge any top-secret
information, do you?"
What in
the name of the king had she been doing the last few minutes? "Not
divulging, Agatha, just simply passing information on to a colleague."
"A
colleague now, am I?" The older lady threw down her napkin and wobbled to
a standing position. "Only a minute ago you were about to send me to the
gallows."
"I
was not!"
"You
were," she said, shuffling her small, round body toward the door.
"And another thing, you will take Jane and Lady Emily to the balls this
Season, or else."
He
raised a dark brow in challenge at the lady's uncompromising look.
"Blackmail does not become you, Agatha."
"Well,
it does now."
As the
door slammed behind her, Jared collapsed into her chair and scowled. How the
devil had the conversation shifted from secret agents to the London Season?
Women! All he needed now was for that Fennington fellow Roderick had warned him
about to come sniffing around Hemmingly. A harsh laugh suddenly escaped him.
It
seemed the thought of Emily riding away with one of her suitors bothered him
more than the idea of Monsieur Devereaux appearing before dawn with pistols
drawn. Dash it all. His mind was a jumble of confusion, all thanks to Agatha.
"If
I may be so blunt as to suggest a remedy for what ails you, my lord."
Jared
raised a speculative brow as the butler made his way into the room. Obviously,
Filmore had determined that his employer was sending her nephew to Bedlam.
"What kind of remedy, Filmore?"
The
butler coughed. "Of the digestible kind, my lord. In times like these, I
save a bit of the Irish whiskey back in the corner pantry. The O'Keefe brand.
Straight from Ireland."
Jared
smiled. "Your full Christian name, Filmore?"
The
butler gave a curt bow. "Your servant, my lord. Michael Filmore Brian
O'Keefe."
Jared
laughed at the unmistakable Irish brogue in the man's voice. It seemed Agatha
had more secrets at Hemmingly than Prinny had chandeliers at Brighton. What in
the blue blazes had his aunt been up to the years he had been gone, traveling
to Whitehall and sifting out secrets? The lady had always liked adventure. But
there was no doubt something havey-cavey was up involving that French brandy
and now Filmore.
Jared's
brows snapped together, and he suddenly wondered if either Jane or Emily had
any inkling to Agatha's secrets. The maddening notion scared the hell out of
him.
"Come
here, Nigel. Give the pretty black book back to Lady Emily." Emily took a
hesitant step forward and grimaced. She had been chasing the dratted dog in the
back gardens of Hemmingly for over an hour. Drat and double drat!
Her
stomach growled. The biscuits and tea at the vicarage had been barely a meal.
But she would starve before she would leave the gardens without that book.
Gritting
her teeth, she took another step closer when Nigel suddenly dropped the book
onto the wet ground and let out a loud bark. If Emily had not known better,
insist that you curtail your visits to Whitehall at once."
"At
once? By George or what are you going to do?"
He
rubbed a hand across his face. "I have no idea." Though his superiors
had kept Black Wolf and Silver Fox apart for reasons of safety, the danger had
greatly diminished now that Napoleon had been banished. Yet, he was led to
believe the existence of Silver Fox had never been disclosed to the public.
"I
can see you are not going to disclose your contact," he said to his aunt
as he tried desperately to curb his rage, "but I demand to know what you
know about Silver Fox."
Agatha
pounded her parasol against the floor. "I refuse to speak. I have
obviously said too much already. Moreover, everyone in England has heard of
Black Wolf, and a handful of people have heard about Silver Fox as well. So
there."
A
handful of people? Was she mad? "Come now, Agatha. Tell me of your
information. I promise you, it will go no further than this table."
"Goodness,"
she laughed. "You do not truly believe that I would divulge any top-secret
information, do you?"
What in
the name of the king had she been doing the last few minutes? "Not
divulging, Agatha, just simply passing information on to a colleague."
"A
colleague now, am I?" The older lady threw down her napkin and wobbled to
a standing position. "Only a minute ago you were about to send me to the
gallows."
"I
was not!"
"You
were," she said, shuffling her small, round body toward the door.
"And another thing, you will take Jane and Lady Emily to the balls this
Season, or else."
He
raised a dark brow in challenge at the lady's uncompromising look.
"Blackmail does not become you, Agatha."
"Well,
it does now."
As the
door slammed behind her, Jared collapsed into her chair and scowled. How the
devil had the conversation shifted from secret agents to the London Season?
Women! All he needed now was for that Fennington fellow Roderick had warned him
about to come sniffing around Hemmingly. A harsh laugh suddenly escaped him.
It
seemed the thought of Emily riding away with one of her suitors bothered him
more than the idea of Monsieur Devereaux appearing before dawn with pistols
drawn. Dash it all. His mind was a jumble of confusion, all thanks to Agatha.
"If
I may be so blunt as to suggest a remedy for what ails you, my lord."
Jared
raised a speculative brow as the butler made his way into the room. Obviously,
Filmore had determined that his employer was sending her nephew to Bedlam.
"What kind of remedy, Filmore?"
The
butler coughed. "Of the digestible kind, my lord. In times like these, I
save a bit of the Irish whiskey back in the corner pantry. The O'Keefe brand.
Straight from Ireland."
Jared
smiled. "Your full Christian name, Filmore?"
The
butler gave a curt bow. "Your servant, my lord. Michael Filmore Brian
O'Keefe."
Jared
laughed at the unmistakable Irish brogue in the man's voice. It seemed Agatha
had more secrets at Hemmingly than Prinny had chandeliers at Brighton. What in
the blue blazes had his aunt been up to the years he had been gone, traveling
to Whitehall and sifting out secrets? The lady had always liked adventure. But
there was no doubt something havey-cavey was up involving that French brandy
and now Filmore.
Jared's
brows snapped together, and he suddenly wondered if either Jane or Emily had
any inkling to Agatha's secrets. The maddening notion scared the hell out of
him.
"Come
here, Nigel. Give the pretty black book back to Lady Emily." Emily took a
hesitant step forward and grimaced. She had been chasing the dratted dog in the
back gardens of Hemmingly for over an hour. Drat and double drat!
Her
stomach growled. The biscuits and tea at the vicarage had been barely a meal.
But she would starve before she would leave the gardens without that book.
Gritting
her teeth, she took another step closer when Nigel suddenly dropped the book
onto the wet ground and let out a loud bark. If Emily had not known better,
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