Dashing All the Way by Eva Devon & Elizabeth Essex & Heather Snow

Author:Eva Devon & Elizabeth Essex & Heather Snow
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: 0
Published: 2017-10-26T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 4

Bait.

Bloody bait?

He must have said that last aloud, because Claire clucked her tongue.

“There’s no call for swearing,” she chided.

Andrew clenched his jaw, clenched his fists—hell, even clenched his toes. Anything he could do to get control of his…

Christ, what was he feeling? An awful muddle of lust, sorrow, anger, regret, and a bone-deep fear for Claire’s safety, that’s what.

Control. That’s what he needed. Of this situation. Of Claire. There was no way her charade could continue.

When he trusted his voice not to betray him, he said, “That was Marston’s plan? To use you as bait?”

“Of course not,” she said.

He started to exhale in relief.

“It was mine.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And Marston went along with this?” If the man weren’t already dead…

Claire, for once, didn’t answer his question with a question. In fact she didn’t answer him at all. Her eyes shifted to the side and her lips pressed together. The relief he’d almost felt a moment ago finally came. Marston hadn’t dangled her in front of the killer after all, apparently much to Claire’s frustration.

She took a breath and then her eyes met his again. “I sent for Uncle Jarvis immediately after Clarence died. He was one of Uncle Jarvis’s operatives, you see. Not secreted away at Abchurch, but in plain sight in the ballrooms and clubs.” A ghost of a smile haunted her lips. “His code name was The Prancer. No one suspected him of being more than a dandified prattler, but they didn’t know the real Clarence.”

Andrew nodded. He’d known Clarence since they were boys and knew very well he was far from a thoughtless dandy. But he never would have taken the man for a spy. Much must have changed in the past six years.

How strange that their paths would diverge as they had, and yet lead them to the same place. Andrew, too, had been an operative in plain sight, though he’d considered himself more of a reconnaissance officer. Much of his intelligence was gathered while in full military uniform as he carried out his regular duties, even when behind enemy lines. People often believed you were just what you portrayed yourself to be.

Which made Claire, in her disguise, the perfect operative in plain sight, too. Hell.

“When the shock wore off, it occurred to me that whoever killed my brother couldn’t know for certain he’d succeeded,” she went on. “The more days that passed without an announcement of Clarence’s passing, the killer would have to wonder how he’d survived—and what he knew about who’d stabbed him. It only made sense for me to pretend to be my brother because—”

“Because if Clarence was alive, it might force the killer’s hand. Push him into making a mistake,” he finished, though it cost him to admit that her logic had merit.

“Precisely.” Claire’s lips spread into a smile of satisfaction. “If it makes you feel better, it took me some time to convince Uncle Jarvis, too.”

Andrew nearly growled at her assumption that she’d convinced him. No,

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