The reality of her helplessness closed in around her. They were such clever men, these three—hard and experienced and quite ruthless. Grey was the most dangerous of all. He made her believe he wanted to be kind. Every moment it was a fight to remember he was her enemy.

Perhaps he forgot also, sometimes. It was doubtless easier for the victor to ignore the realities.

She said, “I must drink, sooner or later. I have no choice.” The cup held clean water with no taste but that of a metal flask. She drank what he had given her.

His hand on her cheek was like a flower falling onto her. “The first time, when I drugged you, it was wrong. I should have told you. I should have let you fight me. I made a mistake.”

That soft touch. He had done that before. Memories were beginning to rise like bubbles to the surface of her mind. “I remember. I was lying beside you on a blanket. I wanted to touch you. I wanted—”

“It’s time we left.”

But she remembered. She had pressed herself against him and opened her legs and throbbed with mindless pleasure. “What did I do when I was asleep? What did I do with you?”

“You dreamed. The drug takes some women that way. It means nothing.”

Were they dreams, the heat and the hunger and the shamelessness? The drug takes some women that way. In the midst of many turmoils, she must add one more. She became wanton when she slept with the drug. Even her body betrayed her to these English. Truly, it did not seem fair.

“I remember. Almost.”

The hand slipped into her hair and held her. “Nothing happened. I’d tell you if we did anything.”

She had done nothing? She remembered the smell of him under her nostrils and crying out without any restraint and twisting, twisting herself upon him. “I do not think it was a dream. I was wearing one of your shirts. I wanted it off. I wanted…”

The wanting escaped out of her memory and swept across her. In the turn of a moment, her skin was avid for him. She had never known that skin could be hungry for the touch of another skin. She turned to nuzzle his wrist. To taste him. She did not notice she was doing it till he jerked his hand away.

He breathed harshly. “Let’s get you into the coach. You don’t want this. You just think you do. You’re drugged to the eyeballs.” Now he sounded exasperated. “And you’re falling asleep standing up.”

“Grey, we have to go.” That was Doyle.

Certainly he heard all of this, and Adrian, too, inside the coach. She might as well have been stripped naked, considering the privacy she had among these men. “I do not want you. And I am not asleep.”

“Then I won’t need to lift you into the coach. You can climb up yourself. That’s right. I’ve got you. Adrian, don’t try to help. You’re going to rip your shoulder apart.”

But Adrian carried her onto the seat anyway. It could not be good for him. She would scold him when she was awake. Grey put his arm around her. “Where are we?”

“Less than an hour from Dorterre.”

“Ah. I was here two years ago.” She tried to bring to her mind a map of this coastal region, but the image shimmered and melted away. She was not used to memories that did that. “I was in the smuggler villages. Hiding.”

Grey settled her close. “Good place for it. What were you hiding from, two years ago?”

“The Vendée uprising. The last one. It was…very bad. I could not believe French soldiers would do such things to French women and children. And I had been given such orders…” Confusion swirled in her mind. Fragments of pain. Memories. “I disobeyed my orders. I would not spy on those poor people, so I ran away and hid. Everyone was very angry with me.” She rubbed her face against her arm. “I talk with this drug. I will have to remember that.”

“Those aren’t state secrets, Fox Cub. The whole world knows what Napoleon did in the Vendée.”

“I should not say so much, anyway, when my head is not clear. Did you know you do not sound at all like yourself when you speak German? It startled me altogether for a moment. It is as if there is suddenly another person in the carriage. Do not do it again.”

“I’ll try not to. Why don’t you go to sleep.”

And she was falling into sleep once more. Had he given her more of the drug, or was she being dragged down by what she already carried within her?

“I remember what we have done together. I am almost sure it was not decent.” But she let him comb her hair back with his fingers and tuck a blanket around her and arrange her at ease along the seat. “I will decide what to do about it when I am awake. Perhaps I will try to strangle you once more. Though you have the most beautiful body imaginable. Like a large animal.”

Adrian murmured, “What complex and interesting nights you two must have.”

“Shut up,” Grey said.

When she was almost asleep, Grey pulled her against his chest, cradling her possessively. Her body was used to it. She fitted against him as if there were a place there formed especially for her.

Fourteen

“ANNIQUE.” GREY SHOOK HER. “WE’RE IN TROUBLE. Wake up.”

She clawed through feathery blackness and came alert. She was afraid, instantly. Something bad had happened. Very bad. She heard it in his voice. The coach had begun lurching in the ruts and gullies, going fast.

“There’s a troop of men behind us,” Grey said. “Seven or eight at least. They’re keeping their distance, but it’s just a matter of time. We can’t outrun them.”

On the opposite seat, Adrian moved back and forth, quietly and swiftly. “I’m done.” He clicked something. The catch of a bag, she thought.

“They’re in mufti. They don’t ride like army. They don’t act like customs. They’re Leblanc’s,” Grey told her.

“He has tracked us?” She rubbed her face.

“Just bad luck, I think. Leblanc’s flung a net along the coast and caught us in it. We knew this might happen.” Grey was busy with small metallic sounds. She could smell gunpowder.

They would fight. They were three men, against so many.

A muffling of trees on either side caught and held the echo of the horses’ hooves. They were in deep woods then. Horsemen could not make a concerted rush upon them on a narrow path in the woods. One or two would approach from the back. Doyle, outside, would die almost immediately, with the first shots. Grey and Adrian would fight for a time, and then die. The thin panels of a coach are no defense against bullets.

She would huddle like a dog on the floor of the coach. In the end, if she was not killed by a stray bullet, they would find her and take her to Leblanc.

To cower on her knees, with so little dignity. Anger and fear congealed in her throat. Never, never had she hated her blindness more than at this minute when she was so helpless and so useless.

Grey put his hands upon her shoulders, squeezing, as if he tested her strength. He must feel her shaking. He would know how little it meant. “You’ll do.”

A brief, impersonal touch to her arm. That was Adrian. “Listen, Cub. We’re liabilities, you and I. There’s an old monastery a quarter mile ahead. We get off there.”

“We’ll deal with the men and come back for you.” Grey’s voice went stern. “Annique, don’t make a mistake. You don’t want to meet whoever’s following us.”

“You are right.” She had no friends in France who rode in packs on horseback. Only her enemies were so strong.

“There’s nothing in any direction but miles of woods and barrens and the sand. No houses and no help for you. Stay with Adrian. Don’t try to go off on your own.”

He was protecting her, even though she was an enemy agent. That was the core of Grey of the British Service. To protect. She said simply, “I will go with Adrian and take care of him as best I can. You have my promise.”

Adrian and Grey were both silent at that. They smiled to themselves, she thought. Men could be such idiots.

“You can take care of each other,” Grey said. “Here’s your monk house coming. We won’t stop. Adrian?”

“Ready.”

Adrian crouched, holding the door open. The valise he held bumped at her legs.

Grey had such strength. Without effort, he braced his legs between the two seats, to lean above her. “I want you alive. Don’t do anything stupid.

“I am not a stupid woman.”

“If you run, I’ll track you down. I’ll be damn annoyed when I find you.” He tightened his hold. “There’s been no time. Whatever you’ve done…Oh hell.” His mouth was brutal as it closed over hers. “We’ll talk about this later.”

But she did not try to talk. She went mad for him. She found his hair, laced into it, and dragged him to her. She consumed him, mouth to mouth. She fought the awkward angles of their bodies, the lurching of the carriage, and went to him. She could not get close enough.

She had one minute. Then he took her head between his hands, hard, and set the last kiss on her forehead. “That’s settled, then. I’ll be back. We’ll finish this. I’m not letting you go.”

She had wondered what it would be like if Grey once let himself reach out to take her. Now she knew. He would be vehement and direct and very certain of himself.

The carriage slowed. “Now!” Adrian called and jumped. She heard him hit the ground.

“Grey…” she said.

“Be careful.” He swung her through the open door. She tumbled into the sickening drop before she had time to feel afraid.

The road slapped her. She kept the cry of pain inside and spun, over and over. She stopped, dizzy and hurt, on slimy, cold ground. Rocks and slick mud were under her. Before she could move, Adrian’s fist tangled in her clothing. He pulled her, fast, into scratchy bushes and pushed her underneath him and collapsed on top of her.