The Masquerading Mistresses Series by Robyn Dehart

Author:Robyn Dehart [Dehart, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency romance;1800s;London;Entangled Publishing;Scandalous;historical romance
Publisher: Entangled: Scandalous
Published: 2013-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Alistair hadn’t seen Jasper Riverton in more than fifteen years, but he needed those maps. He’d break into the man’s house if he refused them entrance. The code needed to be deciphered and he was getting close. As much as he hated to admit it, having Winifred by his side gave him a jolt of courage—having her with him made him feel more comfortable about facing Riverton. Alistair didn’t relish seeing anyone he’d gone to school with. At least those few in the Seven he’d known when he’d been a boy knew him now, knew his mind and respected his intelligence. But men like Riverton had only ever seen Alistair as a peculiarity.

Alistair had always been odd, even in his interactions with other peers of the realm. He spoke differently, when he bothered to talk; he moved differently; he certainly thought differently, which was why he was so damned good at his job. Of course it hadn’t seemed that way growing up. Then he’d been ridiculed and teased as being a simpleton. It wasn’t until Harrison, the leader of the Seven, recruited Alistair to break codes that Alistair had finally accepted his differences. Now he didn’t give a damn what others thought of him. Except for Winifred.

The carriage rolled up toward the townhome. There were several other carriages in front, as well as people milling about.

“It appears as if his lordship is hosting a party,” Winifred said.

“Indeed.” That could be either good, a way for them to blend into the crowd, or bad, a damned school reunion.

“We will scarcely be noticed, I suspect,” she said.

He could only hope. Oh how he loathed the small talk of London, conversing about the weather and the latest scandal or whatever political nonsense was going on in Parliament. He didn’t give a fig about most of it. They were introduced into the house and no one seemed to blink at the sight of them. Riverton stood to the side with his wife. At least Alistair assumed the woman next to him was the man’s wife.

Alistair stepped over to them, his hand resting on the small of Winifred’s back. “Riverton,” he said with a nod.

“Coventry, old boy.” He grabbed Alistair in an embrace and popped him on the back.

Yet another reason to not enjoy London. People touched him too much. It was unsettling.

“I had no idea you ever came to London, else I would have sent an invitation. Glad you came by nonetheless.” The man’s eyes moved to Winifred, and his brows rose.

“Winifred Mirren,” she said, introducing herself. “I am a friend of Lord Coventry’s.”

“Indeed,” the man said with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Mirren, I know that name. You are the mapmaker’s widow!” He clapped his hands together. “How splendid to make your acquaintance. I do hope you’ll take the opportunity to peruse my collection of maps. I suspect you’ll find it particularly interesting.”

“Yes, I’d love to. Where might we find that?” she asked.

“Second floor, end of the west corridor,” the man said, pointing his finger toward the staircase.

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