Read Online When a Lady Deceives (Her Majesty’s Most Secret Service) by Tara Kingston - Free Book Online Page B

Annie had t’feed ye. She had t’earn her keep, and she couldn’t do that with a babe in arms. Ye’ll always be my boy, Matthew.” She swiped at her broad cheek. As if he’d believe a tear had actually come to her eye.
    Always theatrical, that one. Geraldine had missed her calling on the stage. She shot him a well-timed glance and swiped at her cheek again.
    “But ye haven’t come to see yer auntie now, have ye?” She flashed a conspirator’s grin. “What brings ye here this fine afternoon?”
    “A woman,” he said, baiting the hook.
    “Ain’t it always?”
    “I need you to keep an eye on her. She’s here now.” He led Geraldine to a recessed corridor that offered an unhampered view of the tavern. Seated in a far corner with her back to him, Jennie sipped tea while her companion lifted a stein of ale to his mouth. “That one.”
    “The pretty bird with a feather in her hat?”
    “Yes.” He allowed his attention to linger on Jennie longer than necessary. A moment. A blink perhaps, nothing more. But Geraldine picked up on his hesitation to look away, blast the woman and her observant soul.
    “Who is she to ye, Matthew?”
    “An employee.”
    Geraldine’s brows shot up. “Is that so? She doesn’t look like…Harwick’s kind.”
    “She’s not.” He bit off the words. “I need to find out what she’s up to.”
    “And the man? Ye want me t’keep an eye out for the bloke as well?”
    Matthew studied the big-boned, dark-haired man who occupied Jennie’s interest at the moment. Damn shame he couldn’t see the blighter’s face. She’d certainly been in a hurry to get to him. From his spot in a coach parked across from her boardinghouse, Matthew had watched her bustle down the street. Strikingly pretty in a prim hat and cape, she would have caught his eye even if he wasn’t determined to find out what the barmaid was about. Wherever she was going, his gut had insisted it wasn’t a social call.
    He’d trailed her to the Boar’s Head. Why would a woman like Jennie venture into a workman’s pub? What sort of bloke would choose this wretched hole for a rendezvous? Surely a man of quality, even a rake seeking her favors as a mistress, would steal his moments with her in an establishment where the chef had trained in Paris, not the bowels of Whitechapel.
    Whatever their business, Jennie’s encounter bore no hallmarks of seduction. She offered the man a curt nod, stood and smoothed her skirt, then marched away as quickly as she’d come.
    “My, my, she’s in a bit of a rush, ain’t she?” Geraldine observed. “Looks like the gent ain’t gonna get a taste o’that.”
    Matthew’s clenched hand relaxed. Leave it to Gerry to read his bloody thoughts as plainly as a headline in the Daily News . “Keep a lookout for her. And the man. Make a note of what they’re about if either comes in here again. Can I count on you?”
    “Is there ever a doubt?”
    “No.” Peculiar, the truth in that small word. Aunt Gerry had been his fiercest ally since childhood. Though scarcely a decade older than himself, she’d moved heaven and earth to rescue him from a hellish existence after his mother’s death and had ensured his father knew the child he’d fathered. Her gruff exterior shielded a heart that was both tender and valiant.
    A furrow marked the bridge of her nose. Geraldine eyed him curiously. “The woman—she means something t’ye?”
    “I need to keep an eye on her. That’s all.”
    “Holding out on yer auntie, are ye? I’ll wheedle it out o’ye, in time.”
    Matthew stared after Jennie as her feather and cape disappeared out the door. From his vantage point in the shadows, he shifted his gaze to the man she’d left behind. The bloke hoisted the tankard to his mouth and took a long swig. His shoulders set in a taut line despite the ale he’d gulped. He dragged a hand through his hair. Whatever had gone between him and Jennie, the tension in his movements betrayed frustration rather than