Page 6 of The Earl and the Reluctant Lady
“Merely have things on my mind.”
“Such as?”
Fletcher considered whether or not to say anything. The men in his team often had jesting things to say about his romantic conquests and the tasks he was given in the name of duty to country. They complained that those tasks were always assigned to him, but in truth, he doubted they would trade places with him.
“I am perceptive of other people. It is what makes me good at seducing women for information. But it is not my only skill.”
Chris’s brows rose. “It is not merely your perception, but your reputation as a lothario that brings these types of assignments to you. It is the perfect cover. You hide in plain sight and seduce women normally, so when the time comes to do so for duty to your country, I should think you could do so without complaint.” He drummed his fingers on his desk. “That being said, seduction is not the only means to gather information. It just seems to be your preferred method. And I don’t believe any of them have required you to toss a bag over their heads.”
“I’m ready for something more challenging.” He shrugged. “What if I choose a bride? I can’t be spending my nights seducing other women, even in the name of my country.”
“Do you have someone in mind?” Chris asked.
Perhaps if Chris knew he was potentially serious about one woman he’d offer him some different types of duties. “I met someone last night.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “She was different. Special.”
“If she has you pausing, considering something significant rather than a brief affair, she sounds special indeed.”
“I know that a brief affair with her would never be enough. I can say that with certainty.” Whether or not he deserved someone of her caliber was an entirely different matter. His grandfather would certainly say that Fletcher was too stupid and incompetent to deserve a well-bred lady.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Chris chuckled. “Try to remember, Wakefield, that we are not friends, you and me. If you want to marry, feel free. As for your assignments, I shall consider changing some of them, but after the mess you left in Belgium, I don’t have many options.”
“Christopher,” a woman’s voice called from outside of the study. “Are you in here?” Then the door opened and in walked Agnes.
Fletcher came to his feet. “Miss Watkins.” Watkins. Christopher Watkins. How had he missed that connection?
Her perfect bow-shaped lips parted and her eyes widened. She looked from Fletcher’s face to Christopher’s.
“Lord Wakefield, what are you—”
“Wakefield, I certainly hope this is not the lady you were just speaking of,” Chris said, his tone dark and deadly.
Her eyes darted to Chris at his interruption. Her mouth opened, then closed, and a frown settled over her features.
“This is my sister, Miss Watkins.” Chris leveled a glare at him.
Damnation. It didn’t take any special training to decipher that Christopher wasn’t too keen on the notion of Fletcher and his sister having any sort of relationship. He wasn’t certain if he should be pleased that he’d stolen a kiss the night before, since it seemed he’d never get another, or distraught that now he’d know what he’d be missing. Because even though chaste, he’d felt a passion simmering under the surface with Agnes. As if she’d read his thoughts, her fingers went to her lips.
Christopher’s shrewd eyes left Fletcher and trained on his sister. “Agnes, did you need something?”
She released a slow breath. “Only to tell you that Mother has requested we accompany her to the theater this evening since Father is still traveling. My apologies for interrupting your”—she glanced back to Fletcher and he felt the impact of her crystalline eyes as if she’d struck him in the stomach—“meeting.”
Christopher nodded. “It would appear that you met Lord Wakefield, I’m assuming at the Winthrop ball last evening?”
“Yes. We danced,” she said.
“He was a gentleman?” Chris asked.
“He is right here,” Fletcher said, annoyed at being the subject of conversation while standing in the room. He couldn’t ignore the fact that he was curious as to whether or not Agnes would reveal him to be the cad that he was. Hell, had he known she was Chris’s sister, he never would have kissed her. Never would have even danced with her. As if Chris needed any additional reasons to hate him.
Agnes’s eyes never left his own. “He was.” She smiled. “Lovely to you see you again, my lord.”
“You as well,” Fletcher said.
“Agnes, if there’s nothing else, Wakefield and I need to resume our discussion,” Christopher said.
“Of course.” She hurriedly left the room.
Christopher turned his body back to face Fletcher once they were alone again. “I know it should go without saying, but I want to make certain you understand my sister is completely off-limits for you.”
