The man with nondescript brown hair and dark eyes bowed. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, eh wot?”
“And the last gentleman in the room,” Lady Kerr continued after their bow and curtsey, “is someone I believe you are already veryfamiliarwith, Miss White…”
An absurdly handsome man approached from across the room, a charming smile on his lips. He had desirable blond hair and deceptively laughing green eyes. Gabe hated him on sight.
He hated him more as the cad gripped Mary’s hand in his. But instead of kissing the backs of her fingers, the man had the audacity to lean in to kiss her cheek…and linger there far longer than strictly necessary, even for such an intimate gesture.
“Lord Reddington,” Mary breathed. “I am so pleased to see you again.”
“Oh, my darling, Mary, do call me James. You know how I love to hear my name on your talented tongue.”
Mary’s lips curled in an infuriating smile. Gabe’s gut churned.
“James,” she purred.
The man’s eyes rolled backward briefly, and Gabe could swear that red began to spot his vision.
“I amsopleased that you accepted my invitation.” Reddington looked pointedly at Gabe. “I see you’ve brought a friend.”
“Oh yes!” Mary jumped as though she had forgotten he was there. Damn her. “This is myverygood friend Mr. Anthony Spencer. Tony, this is Lord Reddington.”
The man frowned, but mirrored Gabe’s bow. “Verygood friend, is he?”
Mary had the grace to appear shamefaced. “Yes.”
Reddington placed a hand dramatically over his heart and staggered as though struck.
“You wound me, Mary!” His behaviour was playful, but Gabe saw the steel in his eyes. The man gripped Mary’s hand tighter. “I thought you would be ‘no man’s mistress.’”
Mary nodded apologetically. “It seems that I was persuaded.”
Reddington tugged her closer to him. “Perhaps you could be swayed in your choice of protector?”
That was it. Gabe had seen enough. He stepped forward and slid one arm around Mary’s shoulders, pulling her into his body. “She has protection enough at the moment, your lordship, but she thanks you for your kind offer.”
Frosty green eyes glinted at him from between sandy blond eyelashes.
“Dinner is served,” Mr. Jenkins intoned from the doorway.
Just in time. Gabe had been tempted to pound the fellow’s face and spirit Mary far away. But that would be counter-productive to their purpose.
Focus, Gabe.We are here to uncover a French spy and recover stolen documents.
The eleven of them paired off by rank. With the customary male to female pairs—with one odd woman out—the low-ranking females outnumbered the ranking males.
Lord and Lady Kerr led the group to the dining room. Much to Gabe’s chagrin, Lord Reddington paired with Mary, while Gabe was saddled with a Mrs. McArthur, Reddington’s mistress.
The dining room was just as ostentatiously appointed as the other rooms he’d seen in the home. Two chandeliers hung high above them and bright sconces lined the gilt and green velvet covered walls. The couples took their seats at the table, which glittered with silverware and sparkling flutes of champagne.
Gabe sat between Mrs. McArthur and their hostess, with Lady Kerr on his right. Mary sat directly across from him between Reddington and the hawk-like Lord Pondridge.
A hidden rear door to the dining room burst open, five footmen entering in a row, each holding two dishes. They positioned themselves each between two guests, then, in unison, placed the dish in front of the diners.
Gabe looked down at his dish. It was a bowl of what Gabe assumed was intended to be brown onion soup. But what sat before him was murky broth with floating bits of onion, coated in a thick layer of an abnormal oily substance.
Good God. Evenhecould create a better soup than this. Of course, he’d learned to cook from his mother at a young age, and held a great fondness for it, but he was by no means a famed cook.
The soft clinking of spoons against bowls and muttering voices filled the expansive dining room as Gabe dipped his spoon reluctantly into his “soup” and took his first taste.
