Read To Kiss A Spy for Free Online

She knew he had saved her life and she was immensely grateful for that but there was something disturbing about him. Sufficiently disturbing for her to feel that she shouldn’t accompany him to some strange venue, that anything could happen in his company. Why had he pursued her from the great hall earlier? Why had he kissed her? What did it mean that she interested him? And just what was it about him that interested
her
?
    Pen decided she was in no fit condition to explore the latter question. “I’ll take a wherry at the steps,” she said firmly. “I’ll be home in an hour. My own servants can take care of the wound.”
    Owen didn’t want to frighten her but neither was he willing to let this heaven-sent opportunity go by the board. He said with soft reassurance, “There’s no need to be afeard, Lady Pen. Not in my company at least. But the longer the wound remains uncleansed the greater the chance of mortification. There’s a tavern hard by the Horseferry steps where I’m known. They will have hot water, and bandages, and I trust a decent sack posset. After which I will convey you myself to the princess’s residence.”
    The wound throbbed in her neck, and when she touched it tentatively the skin was hot and her finger came away bloody. She thought of the kind of weapon they might have used, a stone from the gutter coated in filth, a sharpened piece of iron found in a dung heap. And she knew her companion was right. It was imperative to cleanse it immediately. And a tavern would have servants, an innkeeper and his lady. All quite ordinary and safe.
    “Very well,” Pen said.
    They walked quickly to the steps and Pen was aware that she had begun to rely on the support of his hand beneath her elbow. Her own body was letting her down. She forced herself to stand upright, to stiffen her watery knees, to take firm steps. It seemed vitally important that she show no weakness. Why she felt this she didn’t know. But she was convinced that he wanted something from her and she must be on guard against it lest it creep up upon her.
    Nothing that had happened since Pen first met Owen d’Arcy had changed her opinion that he was a very dangerous man.

Three
    “She was in the gallery, you say?” Lady Bryanston glanced up at the gallery that ran along one side of the great hall.
    “Aye, I saw her up there just after the princess and her entourage left.” Miles Bryanston’s words were a little slurred, his eyes on the contents of the goblet he held.
    “What could she want up there?” demanded Lady Joan, his countess. Her face glistened with the heat. Her eyes followed her mother-in-law’s upwards to the gallery.
    “Poking and prying as usual,” Lady Bryanston declared, her lips a thin line above her heavy chin. “She won’t let it go. She’s as stubborn as an ox.”
    “Even though her own family don’t believe her,” Miles commented. He belched and drained the contents of his goblet, then yawned noisily.
    Servants moved around them, clearing up the debris of the revels. The candles were now guttering, the logs in the great fireplaces burned to embers, and cold edged aside the last breath of warmth left by the recently departed crowd.
    “ ’Tis to be hoped they don’t,” muttered his mother. The Kendals were a formidable pair with powerful connections. If they once decided to interest themselves in their daughter’s obsession, there was no knowing how far they could take it.
    “Why should they?” Joan asked, stifling a yawn. “It’s been two years. What could they find? There’ll be nothing left of a dead child now!”
    “No, but they could be a nuisance,” her mother-in-law said evasively.
    If Miles had done his work well, there would indeed be nothing to find.
    She gave her son a quick glance that held just a degree of doubt. Much as she adored him, she had to admit that he was not as quick-witted as he might have been. Unlike his elder brother, whose wit had been pure quicksilver, bright and