![]() “Who is that?” Martin said, gesturing for Ormond. At the same time, Kit turned her face to the side and it became a mask of horror. Out of the corner of his eye Martin saw Ormond’s head turn toward Kit. “What is it, Martin? Why did you stop? What are you staring at?” She appeared unaware of the attention she was drawing from the men around her, but Martin saw the looks they were giving her and felt a wave of jealousy sweep over him. ![]() She stood with two debutantes and an older man and woman, her back to the dancing couples. Even here, amidst the ton’s finery, she stood out, once again an ethereal creature. Standing not twenty feet before him was the object of his long search, shimmering in a silver gown that reflected the lights above, her only other adornments her auburn tresses and a string of pearls. They stepped into the ballroom just as the orchestra stuck up a waltz-and Martin froze. To the English Midlands they will steal, into the rising winds of revolution. But Martin has known darkness, too, and he alone can touch her heart-as she has touched his. ![]() The auburn-haired courtesan he calls “Kitten” is in truth Katherine, Lady Egerton, a dowager baroness and the daughter of an earl as elusive as she is alluring. Agent of the Crown Sir Martin Powell would not normally indulge, but the end of his time spying against Napoleon deserves a victory celebration. ![]() ![]() A night in London’s most exclusive bordello. ![]()
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