He intended to find out. The agency wanted her more than they wanted him. That alone intrigued him no small amount.
As he exited the theater, Christopher noted the black lacquered carriage that bore the Winter crest. He paused beside it. Making a barely discernable gesture, he listened for the answering birdcall that told him his order was seen by at least one of his men stationed around the area. The coach would be followed until he said otherwise. Wherever the fair lady went, he wanted to know about it.
“I shall be at the Harwick house party this weekend,” he told the driver, who stared back at him with wide eyes and rigid body. “Make certain her ladyship knows this.”
As the man nodded violently, Christopher smiled with deep-rooted satisfaction.
For the first time in a very long time, he had something to look forward to.
Chapter 2
“There is the possibility that she was sold into slavery.”
Maria paused her pacing before the fire to stare hard at her investigator and former paramour. Simon Quinn wore only a multicolored silk robe, his tanned throat and chest visible in the parted opening. His eyes, a startling blue, stood out in stark contrast to his dark skin and black hair. Irish coloring. The complete opposite of the golden St. John, and younger by several years, but extremely handsome in his own right.
Aside from his innate sexuality, Simon appeared innocuous enough. Only the intense way he studied his surroundings hinted at a livelihood fraught with danger. In the course of their association, he had broken nearly every law there was.
So had she.
“Odd you would say that tonight,” she murmured. “Welton said the same to me earlier.”
“That certainly does not bode well, then, does it?” he asked in his smooth-as-satin voice.