“I’m not saying we are going to do that. To be honest, I don’t believe Ardmore is involved in this either. But neither can I dismiss it out of hand. Neither can you. All I’m saying is to be careful. And don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Especially not to him.”
“I’m not a fool, Dalton. Of course I won’t. We know secrecy is of the utmost importance. And John is not even in the country; how could I tell him anything?”
“Hopefully, we’ll uncover the traitor soon. And all will be settled.” Then after a pause. “Damn it. Nathaniel left in such a hurry that he forgot the documents. We need him to start working on these right away.”
Oh, bollocks. He had left the documents. He was considering whether to barge back in to retrieve them when he heard Alice say.
“Leave them with me. I’ll take them to him.”
Oh? So she wanted to bring the documents to him? So let her. He’d be ready and waiting for her. Silently, he walked away from the door and out the building, already anticipating Alice’s visit.
CHAPTER 15
Alicestoodonthestoop of Nathaniel’s London townhouse, her gloved fingers gripping the folder of documents so tightly that the leather crinkled. She raised her hand and rapped briskly on the door. Her heart thudded almost as loudly as the knocker had done, her jaw tight. She had only stayed in this house briefly, almost six years ago, and it had never felt like home. Today, she felt more of an interloper than ever. What had possessed her to want to come deliver these documents herself? Dalton could have sent a delivery boy or delivered them himself.
But she had wanted, nay, needed to talk to Nathaniel. She couldn’t understand him. One moment he was acting the loving husband, making love to her as if they had invented love itself. The next, he was angry, bitter, throwing accusations…
The door swung open, and there at the threshold, surrounded by the warm glow of the lamps lit within, stood Nathaniel himself. He was in his shirtsleeves, undone necktie hangingaround his neck, and he was holding a glass of whisky in his hand.
He smirked and gestured mockingly for her to enter. “What took you so long, wife of mine? I’ve been expecting you.”
She took a wary step forward, and since he didn’t step aside, her arm brushed his chest as she slid past him. The soft click as he shut the door behind her felt like a statement.
“You have no servants?” she asked to distract herself, looking around at the luxurious vestibule of his aristocratic London townhouse.
“I gave them the night off. Come.” He tossed the reply carelessly over his shoulder as he shuffled down the corridor toward the library.
Here, his jacket lay discarded on the back of a chair, his waistcoat slung over the arm of the other. He tossed his necktie onto the pile and rolled his sleeves, revealing his forearms as he walked toward the sideboard and poured himself another glass of whisky. His posture was taut, his shoulders a rigid line beneath his white shirt. When his eyes flicked up and met hers, they were dark and unreadable.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I only came because you left these behind,” Alice said coolly, holding out the folder.
“Is that why you came, Alice?” His voice was deceptively silky, his eyes seemed to look into her, discerning all her secrets, understanding all her emotions even better than she did.
“Yes, of course. Dalton felt it was important you start working on these at once.”
He took the folder from her hand, his fingers brushing hers for a moment before he set it aside on the desk. “Thank you.” His voice was sardonic, polite to the point of coldness.
She crossed her arms, refusing to be cowed by his mood. “We need to talk. What was that about in Dalton’s office? Why are you implicating John without any real evidence?”
His jaw flexed as he downed the whisky in a single swallow. “I’m not implicating anyone. I’m considering facts. Lord A is a high-ranking official in the Foreign Office. He’s abroad but expected back soon. It fits.”
“Fits?” she echoed sharply. “It’s circumstantial at best! Why are you so determined it’s him?”
“Because I’m being objective,” Nathaniel shot back, his voice rising. “Unlike you, blinded by your emotions.”
Alice felt heat rush to her cheeks. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” he countered, stepping closer. “Even Dalton sees the possibility.”
“Dalton is being cautious, as he should be. That doesn’t mean he believes it.”
Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed. “And yet, you refuse to even consider it. Who are you going to side with? Your husband—or a possible traitor?”
“I’m siding with fairness,” she retorted, her voice tight with fury. “And I know John. He isn’t a traitor.”
His expression hardened further, voice dropping low, almost a growl. “If you were a loyal wife, you’d side with me. Tell me, Alice, if I were the one under suspicion, would you defend me so passionately?”
