Sir John’s blue eyes lifted steadily. “I am waiting for the conspirators to embroil themselves further,” he said thoughtfully.
The Viscount shrugged his shoulders.
“You are giving them a chance to leave the kingdom.”
“You mistake, my lord—I am having them watched and Hunt’s cottage no longer stands their refuge.” He rose and abruptly left the room.
Hardly had he gone before an inner door was opened and Lady Dalrymple entered.
The Viscount gave her a sharp look.
“One might be tempted to think that you played the spy, madam,” he said dryly.
“I?” she went white, but glanced at him scornfully. “Can I spy in my husband’s house?”
“I grant, madam, that your means may not equal your will,” he answered, “yet John is reckless—careless—”
Lady Dalrymple’s great soft eyes widened. “Wherefore should I spy upon my husband’s affairs?” she said coldly. “I am no politician.”