The Regency Season: Passionate Promises: The Duke's Daring Debutante / Return of the Prodigal Gilvry

Freddy didn’t dance. Ever. And everyone knew it.

Minette wasn’t sure if he didn’t because of his lameness, or because he didn’t want to. His leg, whatever was wrong with it, didn’t stop him from doing anything else, even if he did have a bit of a limp. She’d seen him walk across the deck of a pitching ship without losing his balance or stumbling. She’d seen him play cricket on the lawns at Meak the first summer she’d arrived in England. Then he’d stopped visiting.

He worked for Sceptre, a secret organisation that carried on the war with Napoleon in the dark world of espionage. She wasn’t supposed to know about it, but she’d been there the day Nicky and Gabe had been carted off to appear before the head of the organisation. To Nicky’s everlasting gratitude, Gabe had been relieved from active duty. Freddy continued to serve. No one said he did, but there could be no other explanation for why he had disappeared from their lives.

And neither Nicky nor Gabe had ever commented on his absence. It had been as if they had forgotten he existed. Until she’d gone to find him and they’d ended up engaged to be married. She still didn’t quite believe she was betrothed. In some ways it was a dream come true. He was a handsome, if aloof, man to whom she had been instantly attracted. Had he shown interest all those years before, she would have been tempted.

Tonight, he had encouraged her to dance every dance with any young man who asked, including Granby, who seemed to have recovered from his funk. She was dancing with him now, while her gaze sought out a very different man. A man so cold that sometimes she thought he would chill her to the bone with a look.

The music came to a close, and Granby walked her back to Nicky, seated among the matrons and chaperones, no doubt having grown tired of standing.

‘May I fetch you some refreshment, Miss Rideau? Or you, Lady Mooreshead?’ Granby asked.

‘I would love some lemonade,’ Minette answered.

‘Not for me,’ Nicky said.

When the young man was out of hearing, Minette scanned the room. ‘Where is Freddy?’

‘He and Gabe went to the card room.’

Minette frowned. ‘Do you think he gambles as much as everyone says?’

Nicky sighed. ‘I don’t know. His fortune is vast. I would hate to see him lose at the tables the way so many others have done.’ She glance around and lowered her voice. ‘It may be a front for other activities.’

Surprise that Nicky would mention such a thing must have shown in her face.

‘I don’t want you to think the worst of him,’ Nicky said.

She didn’t know what to make of him. So often she had felt as if he didn’t like her. At other times she thought he also felt the same wild spark of attraction she did, especially when they kissed. Until he looked at her with that chilly expression. Clearly he was set on this marriage. Except tonight he seemed to be avoiding her. Perhaps he had changed his mind.

The disappointment that hollowed out a painful space in her chest didn’t make any sense. His changing his mind would make it so much easier to cry off once they found Moreau.

As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Freddy appeared across the other side of the room, listening to something Gabe was saying, his expression austere, his eyes intense. He looked up and his gaze caught hers. She froze in the intensity of that look, so dark, so cold, until a hint of a smile quirked the corners of his mouth and caused flutters low in her belly.

‘There they are,’ Nicky said, and the connection was gone as if it had never existed. Remoteness fell over his expression like a shutter as he and Gabe sauntered over.

Gabe smiled down at his wife. ‘Are you too tired to dance?’

‘Never.’

He walked her into the set.

‘I am surprised to find you not up on the dance floor,’ Freddy said, clearly not caring one way or the other.

‘I sat out because I want to know how Nicky was faring.’

‘You care for your sister.’

‘Of course. She is my family.’

He looked less than convinced.

‘You care for your family, surely?’ Wasn’t that why he undertook deeds society would frown on? To save his country and his family from being crushed beneath the boot of a tyrant?

‘It is my duty to care for them.’

Cold duty. As it was his duty to marry her after they’d been caught in the library. The man seemed to have no heart, no passion. Yet his kisses had been more than passionate. They had been searing.

‘Would you care to stroll in the gardens?’ he asked. ‘I am told they are something to see.’

‘Someone mentioned they were lit up like Vauxhall Gardens.’

‘Worse.’ He gave her an odd sort of look. ‘There isn’t a shadow or a dark walk to be found and a footman at every corner.’

She chuckled. ‘No chance for mischief.’ She grinned up at him. ‘Probably as well in our case. Who knows where temptation would lead?’

His eyes widened a fraction and again the small flash of the smile she adored made an appearance, much to the consternation of her insides. He held out his arm. ‘Shall we go and see? After all, given the purpose of our attendance tonight, it wouldn’t do for us not to spend any time together.’

A pang pierced her heart at the coldness in his words. A foolish pang that it wasn’t his desire to spend time with her but his need to make it appear as if he did. ‘Why not?’ She placed her arm on his sleeve and they left the ballroom by way of the French doors.

‘Is it too cool out here for you?’ he asked, as if he really cared. ‘Shall I fetch a shawl?’

It was a beautiful June evening. The scent of lilacs and early roses carried on the warm breeze, the walks sparkling with lights strung from trees.

‘No, thank you. It is a relief to get out of the heat.’

They walked in a square around the formal garden. ‘I am glad for a private moment,’ she said. ‘I have been wanting to speak with you alone. I thought you might have had some news of our quarry.’

He gave her a considering look. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘Because Madame Vitesse says someone has been walking around her neighbourhood, asking questions about her brother. She threatens to refuse to help us.’

He frowned, and she had the feeling he had caught him by surprise. ‘Not my men. I am keeping to our agreement and so must she or find herself in dire straits.’

His frown deepened, and he paused to pick a rose. He broke the thorns off the stem and handed it to her in what, under other circumstances, might be seen as a very romantic gesture. She inhaled the delicate fragrance.

Once more he offered his arm, and they continued strolling. ‘It is not only us looking for Moreau.’

Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Who else?’

‘The Home Office boys would very much to get their hands on him.’

She understood from the small things Gabe had let fall from time to time that the Home Office and the organisation Freddy worked for were on the same side, working to save England, they were also in competition and their goals did not always align.

‘You think it might be them asking questions?’

‘Rumours of our man’s imminent arrival in Britain have been circulating for weeks. They might be overly bureaucratic at the Home Office but they are not completely without ability.’