“You must have known Wyndham would feel compelled to go back to France.” She winced. “I can imagine him bargaining with Durand, offering himself in return for the freedom of Père Laurent and the Boyers.”

Kirkland toyed with his quill pen with tense fingers. “It would be devilish unwise to bargain with a snake like Durand, but I can imagine Wyndham doing that if he thought it was the only way.”

Calm settled over Cassie. “You must know that I won’t let Grey go alone.”

“I considered it likely that you’d insist on going with him,” he admitted.

“Do you ever tire of playing God, James?” she said in an edged voice.

“Frequently.” The quill snapped in his hands. “If Wyndham goes alone, he’s unlikely to survive, much less succeed in his mission. If you go with him, the odds of success increase, but still aren’t good, and I’ve endangered your life as well. What would you do in my place?”

She considered. “The same as you’re doing. But I need to be angry at someone, and you’re nearest.”

“Feel free to curse me. I’m used to it.” He gave her a twisted smile. “Here you are with a new life. A loving family, a fortune, a return to the station you were born to. And I’m dragging you back into the murky and dangerous world of spying.”

“If it’s any comfort, I was becoming bored with the fashionable life and was ready to return to work.” Her eyes narrowed like the Cat of her childhood nickname. “I’m sure you know how I’d react if you let Wyndham go to his doom without telling me.”

“I’d be in fear of my life,” he said promptly.

“Wise man.” She stood, knowing what she must do. “Do you know where Wyndham is?”

“Upstairs in my guest room. I invited him to stay here while he’s in London.”

She spun on her heel and headed toward the door. Behind her, Kirkland said, “Second floor, all the way to the back.”

Not that she needed directions. Now that she knew Grey was near, she’d find him. And God help anyone who got in her way.

Grey was writing one of several difficult letters that he hoped would never need to be sent when the door to his room opened soundlessly. He glanced up, thinking it was one of Kirkland’s soft-footed maids, then froze. Cassie.

She looked composed and quietly elegant in a dark blue morning dress. This would be her style as an English lady, he realized. Impeccable tailoring, beautiful fabrics, and a rather conservative cut to balance the sensual magnificence of her flawless figure and bright auburn hair.

She closed the door and leaned back against it, one hand on the knob as if she was ready to bolt. Heart pounding, he got to his feet, thinking it was damned unfair of Kirkland to send Cassie. The atmosphere turned thunderous with tension. He wanted to cross the room and wrap his arms around her and drag her to his bed.

Instead, he forced himself to stay behind the desk. Skipping the preliminaries, he said flatly, “I’m not going to change my mind.”

She regarded him with a cool, assessing gaze. “So you think you can make your way across the channel and through France and rescue five people, at least one of them in poor health, from Castle Durand?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I have to try. I owe Père Laurent and the Boyers too much not to do what I can.”

“You’re sure?” she asked. “You spent ten years in hell. Now you have regained everything. Your family, your wealth, your station in life. Are you prepared to throw it all away in an impossible quest?”

“I am.” Despite his spells of anger and wildness, life had been almost unbearably sweet since Cassie rescued him. After searching for words, he said haltingly, “I need to do this. I’ve had so many blessings from the accident of my birth, and I’ve never been required to do anything difficult in return. I’ve never risked myself on behalf of anyone else. I … I need to prove to myself that I’m a man, not a callow boy.”

She nodded as if his words confirmed her thoughts. “I’m not here to waste my breath trying to change your mind. I knew you couldn’t turn your back on them.”

“I have years of frivolousness to make up for. So”—he eyed her warily—“if you aren’t going to try to change my mind, why did you come? To tie me up and lock me in a wardrobe so I can’t leave London?”

Her brows arched. “To take charge of this mission, of course. Left to your own devices, you’ll get yourself killed and waste all the time and effort I put into you.”

He was torn between laughing and swearing. “No. You’ve already risked far too much for me. Père Laurent and his family are my responsibility, not yours.”

“That’s arguable since I drove us straight to the Boyers’ farm and benefited by their generosity,” she retorted. “What isn’t arguable is that you haven’t the experience and skills needed to make it safely into France and have a chance of coming out alive again.”

“You underestimate me,” he said shortly, knowing she was right. “I speak French like a native, and having traveled with you across France, I have some idea of how such things are done. Kirkland has also promised me a new set of papers.”

“Can you find transportation across the channel? Given that you were suffering from two bullet wounds when we reached England, I suspect you’d have a hard time finding your way back to my English smugglers.”

She was right that he’d been hazy from his wounds and seasickness, but he’d thought about this. “Their name is Nash and I have a fair idea of where we landed. I’ll find them, and offer to pay so much that it would be bad business to refuse me.”

“You might be able do that,” she agreed. “You could also probably make your way to Castle Durand, given the right papers, though some people might question a healthy young male who isn’t in the army. But what about when you reach the castle? Are you planning a one-man invasion?”

“I’ll think of something, and it won’t be straightforward assault. I may be inexperienced, but I’m not stupid.”

“Not usually, but refusing my help is profoundly stupid. Together, we have some chance. On your own …” She shook her head. “You told me that Peter didn’t want to inherit the earldom. Are you going to force the title on him?”

“Tactfully put,” he said with exasperation. He covered the distance between them in two long strides and kissed her with the passion that had been building since their last night together.

Touching her simultaneously soothed and inflamed. Her mouth was sweet and hot and her breasts crushed against him as she responded, her fingers digging into his back. Dimly aware that this wasn’t what he’d expected, he broke the kiss and retreated, breathing hard. “Do you seriously think we can travel together and keep our hands off each other?”

“Obviously not.” Her face was flushed and auburn hair tumbled to her shoulders. She gave him a ruefully mischievous smile. “That’s why we must travel as husband and wife.”


Chapter 42

Grey had to laugh. “Is sharing a bed my reward if I let you come with me?”

“Probably more of a rationalization. We’re both mad to attempt a rescue from Castle Durand.” She stepped forward and kissed him as she tugged at his cravat. “But I’m serious about the fact that I won’t allow you to go alone. If you try, you might find yourself locked in a wardrobe after all.”

Reason dissolved as he unfastened her gown, then her corset. He needed to see and touch all of her, to absorb her wonderful Cassieness into every fiber of his being.

She must have felt the same for she tore at his garments with a fever that equaled his. Though it had been only a fortnight since they’d been together, it seemed like years. He wanted to devour her, to delight in shimmering coppery hair and subtle scents and powerful woman.

When they were finally skin to skin, they fell onto the bed, kissing and touching with frantic need. When he could wait no longer and buried himself in her, he groaned with pleasure and held very still, knowing how quickly this might end. Wanting to prolong their union, he rolled over so she was on top of him.

“Yesss,” she breathed as she adjusted, finding a rhythm that suited them both. But she was equally impatient, equally needy, and all too soon she convulsed around him.

He culminated instantly, clutching her tight as he surged into her. Cassie, Cassie, Cassie …

With passion exhausted, he stroked her back as he struggled for breath. When he could speak coherently, he said, “I’d considered traveling as a priest, but I don’t think that will work.”

“Definitely not,” Cassie said with a choke of laughter. She slid off him and lay on her side along his left flank, her hand resting warmly on his midriff.

“Any moment, you’ll explain to me that this doesn’t alter the long-term situation and we have no future,” he murmured. “But that if we’re traveling together, it’s more sensible to behave as husband and wife than to try to keep apart.”

“Sensible,” she mused as she traced a finger around his navel. “That’s us.”

He grinned as he toyed with a glossy lock of hair. “Maybe that’s not quite the right word.”

“Probably not.” Voice sober, she said, “Our chances of successfully rescuing Père Laurent and his family are even odds at best. That makes the pleasures of the moment worth the possible pain of the future.”

“So if we fail, we won’t be alive to endure the pain of separation? That’s sensible, in a morbid sort of way.” He caressed her bare shoulder, thinking this intimacy was worth a very high price. Even years of his life.

She cuddled under his arm, all warm, soft curves. “How were you doing at Summerhill?”

“I’ve taken up running for amusement since it feels good and it’s healthy. I’ve also been riding out to visit tenants to remind them who I am and assure them I’m reliable.” He chuckled. “There are still some doubts, but I’ve been pretending to be gentlemanly with some success. My mother has also been inviting the gentry over one family at a time so I can renew my acquaintance with the neighbors.”