Lucien and Ashton crouched beneath an open window of a townhouse on Bloomsbury Street, just out of Mayfair. The two men shared a concerned glance as they eavesdropped on a conversation, in the parlor just past the window.
They’d arrived in London an hour before and rode straight to Evangeline’s townhouse, intent on speaking with her. She’d departed for the day, but the scullery maid next door told Lucien which direction she’d seen her go after he loosened her lips with a none-too-innocent kiss and a few well-placed caresses. The poor girl wanted to tell him everything after that, if only he promised to stay and entertain her. Only Ashton’s polite cough reminded him of their mission.
The forged note Evangeline offered suggested to Ashton that she was not a helpless pawn but an active play
