“He’d be damned if he would try the door, or if he would enter her room—not until she begged him to. So she questioned his loyalties. She, a frivolous, flirtatious, and spoiled London beauty, had questioned his loyalties. Of course, that had been the idea: to give everyone—especially Bonaparte—the impression that he was too self-absorbed to care about politics, and that he would do anything so long as it amused and benefitted him. Those same qualities were supposed to give him equally free rein ...in London, to find Thomas’s killer. Obviously, he was becoming demented. Victoria was supposed to think him a boor, but now that she did, he didn’t like it. “Idiot,” he muttered. “Jackass.” The clock downstairs chimed twice. With another oath at his inattention, he grabbed his discarded coat and slipped out to the dark hallway. Swiftly he made his way downstairs, avoiding the step with the nasty creak, and slipped into the first-floor office. Even in the dark it took only a second to unhook the latch and swing open the window.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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