Sweet Deception by Heather Snow

styled hair—a presentation. A uniform.
    And today, perhaps even a suit of armor.
    His mouth twisted wryly. As if he needed protection from Pygmy. “Why are
you
here?”
    Emma’s brows dipped and her mouth wobbled, likeshe couldn’t decide whether to smile or scowl. “I
live
here, Derick.”
    Imbecile.
“Yes, of course.” Really, if his superiors could have seen him around Emma Wallingford, they’d never have entrusted the country’s greatest secrets to him. At least his incompetent fop act should be especially believable today. “What I meant to say was that I was expecting your brother.”
    Emma crossed her arms. “Yes, Perkins said you wished to speak with the magistrate. Why?”
    The back of Derick’s neck tingled. She was on the defensive. Interesting. Because of his desire to see her brother? Or because of him? Both were intriguing questions, but for different reasons.
    A slow heat spread through him at the possibility that he might have the same physical effect on her as she did on him. He might be able to use that.
    No. He was finished with those days, when seduction had been his stock-in-trade. He shouldn’t need to resort to sensual interrogation. He would be able to get what he needed from Lord Wallingford—if he could get past the man’s formidably lovely gatekeeper. “I should think that obvious.”
    “Indeed.” Emma’s expression turned to a decided scowl, and her foot tapped in irritation. “What is not so obvious,” she continued in a clipped tone, “is why you should feel it necessary to insert yourself into an investigation that has nothing to do with you.”
    Oh, yes…she was most certainly defensive. Which meant he was onto something. The question was, what?
    He had hoped that Farnsworth would have made contact last night or this morning. The last communication the War Department had received from the agent was that he was headed here. This mission would be much easier if Derick knew what Farnsworth knew, and he was anxious to talk with the man. Surely with the wayword spread in small villages like this one, Farnsworth would have heard of his arrival, no matter how deep undercover he was. Until he came forward, however, Derick was on his own in sorting whether or not George Wallingford was the traitor they were hunting. And the quickest way to get to Wallingford was to stick to his story. “Because the girl was a member—”
    “—of your household.” Disapproval dripped from Emma’s voice, landing on him like a particularly annoying drizzle. She blinked up at him with those owl-like eyes. “Am I to assume that you intend to stay in Derbyshire and take up the reins at the castle, then?”
    Derick chafed at the censure in her tone. “Good God, no. This would be the
last
place I would live. I don’t expect to be here more than a few weeks at most,” he answered. “As if that’s any of your concern,” he grumbled under his breath. He swiped a hand across his forehead. She was wasting his time. Nosy, irritating chit. “Damnation, Pygmy, you are
exactly
as you were as a girl.”
    Derick couldn’t keep his eyes from dropping to her cleavage, so lusciously pushed up by her crossed arms. “Well, not
exactly
,” he muttered.
    Emma’s shoulders rose slightly as a tiny gasp escaped her. “Of course I’m not.”
    Hell. Had he actually just said that aloud? What had gotten into him?
    “While I still don’t care to be called Pygmy,” she reminded him, not so subtly, “I’ve changed quite significantly in other ways.” She sniffed. “I’m no longer straw-headed, for one. I speak four additional languages than I did when you last knew me and I’ve grown at least two hands taller.”
    A huff of laughter escaped him at her attempt to lighten the moment, but it quickly faded. Emma wasn’t smiling.
    Instead she heaved a sigh, uncrossed her arms and turned her body, as if to allow him a clear path to thedoor. She even extended a delicate hand in that direction, wafting her