Page 122 of A Dangerous Lord (Regency Spies & Secrets 3)

A smile came to his lips. “After all, you are my favorite sister.”

“I am your only sister,” she bantered back. “But I must agree with Emmeline on one thing.”

“Which is?” Oliver asked.

Jane scrunched her nose. “You do require a bath, and quickly.”

Chuckling, Oliver dropped his arm and stepped back. “I couldn’t agree more,” he responded as he reached for his wife’s hand. “If you will excuse us, Jane.”

Jane remained in place as she watched Oliver and Emmeline walk up the stairs, smiling at one another. Would she ever find someone who looked at her as Oliver looked at Emmeline?

As the servants milled around her, Jane decided that she wanted to be alone, so she headed towards the rear of the townhouse. She stepped outside and lifted her head up towards the sky, enjoying the warm sun on her face.

She started walking down one of the many paths as her thoughts continuously returned to Lord Evan. Why couldn’t she just banish him from her thoughts and be done with it? She was spending entirely far too much time on a man who had rejected her. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. She knew in her heart that she had fallen desperately, hopelessly in love with him.

So distracted was she that she barely noticed the sound of footsteps approaching her. As she started to turn around, something slammed against her head, and everything went black.

Corbyn stepped intoBaldwin’s study and walked over to the drink cart. He poured himself a drink as he tried to figure out how to beat Kerley at his own game. He was tired of being second best, and he refused to look like a fool any longer. He was a better spy than Kerley, and always had been.

Baldwin closed the door. “You were right about Stewart. He wasn’t entirely incompetent today.”

“I must admit that Stewart has pleasantly surprised me on multiple occasions.”

“Maybe not all Bow Street Runners are worthless?”

Corbyn smiled. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he joked.

Crossing the room, Baldwin picked up the decanter and poured himself a drink. “Have you figured out how to stop Kerley?”

His smile dimmed. “Not yet,” he sighed.

“You’ll find him.”

Corbyn took a sip and then lowered the glass. “Perhaps Lord Daniel is right about me.”

“In what way?”

“Have I let my father’s illness distract me from the task at hand?” he asked.

“I suppose only you can answer that question.”

“Life was much simpler a few weeks ago,” Corbyn admitted.

Baldwin smirked. “Is that because you weren’t speaking to your family and all you did was work constantly?”

“Partially,” Corbyn admitted, “but I never stopped speaking to my mother. I wouldn’t dare do that to her.”

“Do you feel as if you are distracted?” Baldwin asked, watching him closely.

“Distractions can get you killed.”

Baldwin bobbed his head. “That they can,” he agreed, his gaze unchanged. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I am well aware.”

A soft knock came at the door, interrupting their conversation.

“Enter,” Baldwin ordered.

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