Mistress of Sins (Dredthorne Hall #3) - Hazel Hunter Page 0,37

not particularly adept at this. It will take some time.”

Nothing he said made any sense to her. “Very good, then while you work you can explain to me how you became a spy.”

“Without His Majesty’s permission, I cannot. The work is very sensitive.” Greystone shifted as the lock made a rusty sound. “There, I almost have it.”

Jennet felt her stomach knot and leaned back against the wall. “This is why you would not marry me? Because you wished to play-act a merchant while you wander about the French countryside spying?”

“More I cannot tell you,” he said, sounding tired now. “Only know that my leaving had nothing to do with you.”

“Oh, of course it didn’t,” she said, making a careless gesture. “We were only to be married, that morning. I cannot imagine why I should be involved in your decision. I was to be your wife. No one of importance at all.”

He sighed. “I meant only that you played no part in the decision.”

Greystone assumed the length of their parting had made her memories of him fade. Even now she could see the twitch of the muscle along his jaw, the tension in his shoulders and the fact that he would not look directly at her.

“Do you think you can lie to me like this and I would not know?” Jennet demanded. “You, a spy. I would sooner believe my mother a witch. Have the decency to admit that you left me in pursuit of your own desires, whatever in God’s name they were. Go on. I will not faint. I did not faint on the day you left, as it happens.”

He eyed her. “What did you do?”

“I brought Mama home, and went to my room, and much more than that I cannot remember. I tore my wedding gown to shreds and had Mrs. Holloway burn the remains,” she tacked on. “What did you do? Oh, of course, you cannot tell me. It is spy business.”

“I left behind everything I wanted that day.” Greystone hesitated before he added, “Indeed, I think the only pleasure I have felt since I left Renwick was with you in the hot house tonight.”

She turned her back on him. “Do not remind me of how shamelessly I behaved.”

“You did nothing wrong,” he said softly. “The blame is mine. I seduced you.”

“Given how practiced you are at such endeavors, I should not disagree, but we both wished it to happen.” Jennet rubbed her eyes. “I knew you would be here tonight. I knew I should never come. Yet here I am, and now disgraced again. No matter what I do, it seems to be my fate.”

Greystone smiled a little. “Was it so terrible to make love with me, Jenny?”

Answering that would require honesty on her part that she had no intention of offering to him. “Being an unmarried lady, I have nothing to compare to the experience.”

“I regret that I hurt you. I had thought…” He stopped and sighed. “I would not have touched you, had I known it to be your first time with a man.”

How glad she was that only the moon provided light now, for her face felt as if it were flaming—but not with embarrassment.

“You mean that you assumed that I took lovers after you abandoned me?” Jennet demanded, newly outraged. “Or that I married someone else? Well, sir, I did neither thing. I am the same as I was when you left Renwick. Or I was, until this night’s madness.” She rubbed her brow. “I cannot believe I am going to say this, but my mother was right.”

The lock chose at that moment to make an odd, metallic screech, and the door creaked as it swung inward. Greystone opened and held it as he peered through the gap, and then turned to her.

“You must not make a sound,” he warned.

Chapter 15

After returning to the parsonage, Deidre Branwen retreated to her dressing room to remove her shepherdess costume and don her nightdress. She did so with relief, for she had never liked pretense of any sort. She also felt deeply disquieted by their visit to Dredthorne Hall. Jeffrey had claimed it perfect, as it had been years since anyone had come to harm there, and that was likely true. Still, from the moment they had entered the old house Deidre had felt very nervous. For all the lamps and candles, too many shadows filled the rooms, as if shades of those who had died there lurked in the corners, watching for the next

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