“Yes, though the theater you knew burned down several years ago. A new one was built in the same place, so the shows carry on,” she replied. “Perhaps tomorrow we can go by the theater and look at the playbills to see what’s being performed.”

He hesitated. “I like the theater, but I’m not ready to be part of a rowdy theater crowd, and I can’t sit in a box without the risk of being recognized.”

“Maybe in a week or two,” she said peaceably.

They fell silent, but their hands remained locked together. Grey’s gaze was riveted on the city that was the beating heart of Britain. Cassie thought he was handling the crowds and confusion well. Every day, he became stronger. Better able to manage.

Dusk was approaching when they arrived at 11 Exeter Street. “It’s bigger than I expected,” Grey said as he helped Cassie from the carriage.

“This area was once fashionable and the large houses remain.” She produced her key and led the way up the front steps. “There are enough boardinghouses in the neighborhood that our comings and goings aren’t noticed.”

She opened the door to the small foyer and she and Grey entered, his arm slung affectionately around her shoulders. Inside was a tall, lean man on the point of departure. Cassie stiffened as she recognized the whipcord strength and brown hair.

As he saw her, his serious face lit with a smile. “Cassie! Since I’m leaving for Scotland tomorrow, I stopped by on the off chance you might have just returned.”

Rob Carmichael. Cassie froze as he moved toward her. Then Rob stopped dead, his gaze moving from Cassie to Grey.

“My God, Wyndham, you’re back from the grave!” Rob said with amazed pleasure. His expression changed as he saw and correctly interpreted the casual intimacy between Grey and Cassie. His voice hardened. “You seem to have come out of France smelling of roses, Wyndham.”

“Hardly,” Grey said, frowning as he looked from Rob to Cassie and back.

“I thought you had better judgment than to fall for cheap charm,” Rob said to Cassie, his voice brittle. “Or is it for his money? Wyndham certainly has more than I do, and he had a reputation for being generous to his mistresses.”

“Watch your tongue, Carmichael!” Grey removed his arm from Cassie’s shoulders and stepped forward, his hands tightening into fists. “Apologize to her!”

“For speaking the truth? Not bloody likely!” Rob also moved into a fighter’s stance, his jaw set with fury.

“Stop it, both of you!” Cassie snapped in a voice that could have cut glass. “You’re behaving like children!”

Mrs. Powell, who ran the house with her husband, had been drawn to the foyer by the sound of voices, so Cassie continued, “Mrs. Powell, this is Mr. Sommers and he’ll be staying here for a while. Please take him up to a room.”

When Grey opened his mouth to protest, Cassie gave him a glance that said Go! He didn’t look happy about that, but he followed Mrs. Powell up the stairs.

“No need to send him off,” Rob said, his voice harsh. “I’m leaving. I doubt our paths will cross much in the future, Cassandra.”

“You are not leaving until we talk, Robert,” Cassie said firmly. “In the drawing room.” She grabbed his arm so he couldn’t escape without shaking her off.

After a moment of boulder-like resistance, he accompanied her into the adjoining room. In the better light, Cassie saw pain in Rob’s eyes. Her annoyance evaporated. “I’m sorry, Rob. I didn’t intend that you find out in such a difficult way.”

“I don’t think there is any good way to dismiss a lover,” he bit out.

“You and I weren’t lovers, Rob. We were friends and occasional bedmates when it suited us. We swore no vows of love or constancy.”

“Did you intend to tell me that you were with Wyndham? Or did you hope I wouldn’t find out?”

She sighed. “You and I have never talked about other lovers, though since I’m in France so much, I’ve assumed you don’t always sleep alone when I’m not here.”

“Oddly enough, I have.” His mouth twisted. “I thought we were more than merely convenient bedmates.”

“Yes, but the true bond has always been friendship, not romantic love.” She caught his gaze with her own, wanting him to believe her words. “The friendship and caring and trust have been real, Rob. I would hate to lose that.”

A muscle in his jaw jerked. “Why Wyndham, Cassie? His legendary charm? It was hard to hate him even when I wanted to.”

She frowned. “Why did you want to hate him?”

He shrugged. “Merely because I was jealous that everything came so easily to him.”

And nothing had come easily to Rob. “Perhaps it will make you feel better to know that Grey spent ten years in solitary confinement in a castle dungeon,” she said tartly. “I assure you that surviving that did not come easily.”

“Ten years of solitary confinement?” Rob exclaimed, looking appalled. “Poor devil. You helped him escape?”

She nodded. “We’ve only just returned to England.” Wearily she unfastened her cloak. “I was looking forward to a quiet evening.”

“With Wyndham.” Rob shook his head. “I have trouble imagining you with him. Is it because he needs you for now and you feel bound to help him?”

Why Wyndham indeed? “Perhaps,” she said thoughtfully. “You never let yourself need anyone or anything, Rob. I’m the same. Both of us are experts at asking for nothing. So self-sufficient that we can’t connect deeply with another human being. With Grey, I … I become someone else.”

Rob’s gaze was searching. “Are you in love with him?”

“A little, I suppose.” She hesitated, not sure how honest she could let herself be. But Rob deserved honesty. “With him, I feel again. It hurts, but it’s … rewarding.”

“Ah, Cassie, I didn’t know you had a shred of romance in your soul.” Rob pulled her into a swift, hard hug. “If you want more than you had with me, I hope you find it. But it won’t be with Wyndham. He’ll never marry you.”

Recognizing that this was an embrace of friends, she relaxed against his hard, familiar body, tears stinging her eyes. Though they might save their friendship, any chance of becoming more was gone. “If I ever had such illusions, I’ve been sufficiently warned by any number of people eager to explain how that will never happen. When Wyndham and I go our separate ways, I won’t be surprised or devastated.”

She was very good at moving on alone.

Rob’s anger was gone, but he sounded wistful when he said, “I thought that someday the two of us might retire to a quiet village where we could bore each other with our old war stories. But that isn’t going to happen, is it?”

“Highly unlikely,” she agreed. “But … Rob, can we be friends again? Please?”

“We can.” He ended the embrace. “But I’m glad I’m off to Scotland. I should be sufficiently busy that I won’t pine.”

“You won’t pine,” she said with a touch of amusement. “I was just a habit.”

“Perhaps, but a good one,” he said quietly. “Take care, my dear girl.”

She watched him leave the room, taut and always ready for trouble, and wished they’d been able to love each other.

Girding herself for another difficult discussion, Cassie headed upstairs. She met Mrs. Powell at the top of the steps.

“I put Mr. Sommers in the room at the back of the house where it’s nice and quiet,” the older woman said. Though she was middle-aged and known for steady good sense and discretion, she gave a girlish giggle. “He’s quite the handsome fellow, he is! How long will he be staying?”

Grey’s charm was obviously recovering along with the rest of him, Cassie thought acerbically. “Several weeks, perhaps. He’s an old friend of Lord Kirkland’s.”

“A lord himself, I’ll be bound,” Mrs. Powell said as she turned to descend the stairs. “I’ll make sure he’s comfortable.”

Cassie headed down the long corridor to the Blue Room. After knocking on the door as warning, she entered before Grey had time to tell her to go away.

He stood at the window watching night fall on London, the dome of St. Peter’s silhouetted against the skyline. He was cool and remote and very much Lord Wyndham.

“I’m sorry for that scene,” she said without preamble. “It was the purest bad luck that Rob Carmichael happened to stop by as we were arriving.”

“Bad luck indeed,” he said, not turning to look at her.

“You knew I was no innocent virgin,” she said with exasperation.

“Neither was I, but my dalliances are all ten years in the past.” After a long silence, he said haltingly, “And … there’s a difference between abstract knowledge and knowing that you’ve been with a man I know and always found rather intimidating.” In a softer voice, he added, “A man who seems very much your sort.”

“Intimidating is a useful trait for a Bow Street Runner,” she agreed, interested in how the two men saw each other. “Will you please stop staring out the window?”

Grey turned, though it was hard to read his expression in the fading light. “I owe you an apology for damaging your affair with Carmichael. While I knew you were a woman of the world, I didn’t realize you had a lover waiting in London.”

“I just had this conversation with Rob,” she said dryly. “He and I have been friends and partners and have shared danger. But though we sometimes shared a bed, that was never the most important part of our friendship.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is the bed the main point of our friendship? Or just part of the nanny service you offer when you rescue fools from captivity?”

She resisted the urge to throw something at him. “I should have let you and Rob break each other’s necks!” She spun on her heel and headed for the door, thinking that Grey was becoming a detached, ironic gentleman all too quickly.

He swore and caught up with her before she reached the door, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling her tight against his chest. “I’m sorry, Cassie,” he said intensely. “I didn’t know I had a possessive streak, but with you, I’m different.”