My Lady, My Spy (Secrets and Seduction Book 4) by Sheridan Jeane Page A

hour?”
    Robert opened his mouth to answer, but Frederick held his palm out, interrupting what might be a long-winded reply.
    “It doesn’t matter.” Frederick dropped his hand, slashing the air between them. “I don’t have time to listen to you. I have a meeting at the Foreign Office, and I’ll be pressed to arrive on time.”
    Robert lifted his cane toward Frederick in a sweeping gesture. “Your evening clothes are likely to raise a few eyebrows.”
    Frederick scowled. Just as he’d feared, Robert was delaying him. “That’s why I’m here. To change.” He turned on his heel and hurried up the staircase. “I’m too busy to spar with you.”
    As Frederick burst into his bedroom, his valet, Herbert, covered a bowl with a cloth and turned to face him. “Good morning, sir.”
    “I’m in a rush. I’m late for a meeting and I need to change.”
    “Yes, sir.” Herbert quickly pulled clothing from the wardrobe while Frederick removed his gloves, coat, and shirt. Herbert had placed a fresh pitcher of water next to a basin, and Frederick poured water into the basin. He splashed the tepid water over his chest and clumsily rubbed the bar of soap with one hand, generating a bit of lather. It took him less than a minute to wash, and he immediately felt better.
    He turned to face Herbert, and the man tossed him a clean towel. Frederick snatched it from the air and rubbed himself dry. It only took a moment to don a fresh shirt and jacket.
    Herbert turned to face him, holding the bowl he’d been covering when Frederick had first entered the room. With a flourish, he whisked away the white cloth. Inside, Frederick spotted the freshly mashed leaves for his poultice.
    Relief cascaded down his spine. “You’re priceless. The best valet ever.”
    Herbert smiled. “I do my best, sir. I saw you arrive in a hackney. You appeared to be in a rush, so I took the liberty of preparing the poultice.” He gestured toward the bowl of mashed greenery. “This is the last of the leaves.”
    Three minutes later, Frederick’s entire outlook was transformed. A fresh shirt, a bit of Mrs. Drummer’s herbal remedy, and a positive attitude would take him far. With a bit of luck, they would take him all the way to the role of spymaster.
    “Wish me luck. I could use a bit extra today.”
    “Of course, sir. Good luck, sir.”
    Frederick tore down the staircase and registered his brother’s presence as he rushed out the door.
    For a brief moment, he wondered why Robert would still be lingering near the entrance, but then he pushed the question from his mind. He needed to stay focused. Lord Cary would expect nothing less.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     
    Josephine woke early but lingered in bed. Lately, she always woke to thoughts of Frederick. Did she dream about him every night? Her hand slid across her breast, grazing her erect nipple and sending a shiver of awareness to her core. He did this to her in her dreams, and she always awoke feeling aroused and restless. Needing him next to her. Craving his touch.
    At the sound of her doorknob turning, her eyes flew open and she pulled her covers up higher.
    Taylor, her maid, backed into the room holding a tray laden with breakfast foods. She carefully balanced it on her hip as she scurried inside and kicked the door closed behind her.
    “I brought your breakfast, my lady. That cat of yours followed me all the way upstairs.” The glance she shot back at the now-rattling door was both indulgent and mildly irritated. The feline seemed determined to get into the room. “She loves your smoked salmon. She’s given me the devil of a time trying to keep her away from it this morning.”
    Josephine scooted up in bed and rearranged her pillows so she could sit comfortably. “Poor Domino. It’s her weakness. I’ll wager that if I put my mind to it, I could teach her to jump through a hoop as long as I used smoked salmon as a reward.”
    Taylor shook her head. “Not that one. I’ve