“You don’t know her as well as I do. Abigail is the best big sister in the world. Loving and kind. She would never turn against you. On the contrary, she will be elated to meet you. She will become your greatest friend and ally.”
“I don’t know, John…”
“You don’t have to answer now. Think about it. The train leaves at seven in the morning.”
“Are you going to stay here?”
He studied her for a couple of heartbeats. “If I may? I don’t want to impose.”
John had a perfectly good townhouse in London. In fact, it was a grand aristocratic mansion in the heart of Mayfair. But he found the place oppressive, and she suspected today he needed the comfort and warmth he found in her home. She had amoment’s hesitation considering what Nathaniel would think if he found out that she had allowed the man he suspected of treason to stay in their home. But then, Nathaniel wasn’t here, was he? He had left days ago and hadn’t even bothered to send her even one message to tell her what he was doing and when he would come back. In the end, the decision didn’t take her more than a second.
“Don’t be silly, of course you can.”
“Thank you.” He took a sip of cognac, his perceptive gaze still lingered on her. “Is everything well with you, Alice?
“Yes, why do you ask?” Damn it, what had he noticed? She didn’t know what she wanted to share with John yet…or even if she wanted to share anything.
“You seem…a bit tense. Uneasy.”
“Nonsense. Maybe I’m just a bit tired.” She took a sip of cognac to hide behind the glass.
John didn’t look particularly convinced, but he nodded, apparently deciding not to press.
“I won’t detain you for long then. I should get some sleep as well. I have an early start tomorrow.” With one long swallow he emptied his glass and stood, grabbing his portmanteau.
She gestured toward the staircase. “You know where your room is.”
“I’m leaving at six. If I don’t see you tomorrow morning, I will assume you are not coming and will depart without waking you. But I hope you decide to come with me.”
She stood as well. “I won’t make any promises, but I’ll think about it.”
He nodded and walked toward her. With his free arm, he encircled her shoulders in a half hug and deposited a kiss on her forehead. “You do that. Good night, Alice.”
And then he turned and walked out of the drawing room, his footsteps echoing through the house as he ascended thestaircase. Leaving her with a hollow feeling of guilt. John was usually reserved, a product of his upbringing, no doubt. But these spontaneous gestures of affection were so natural to him. He was a kind man. Hadn’t he been nothing but caring and supportive since the moment they met? Knowing him as well as she did, how could she even have the smallest inkling of doubt that he could be the traitor? Damn Nathaniel and Dalton for even sowing the smallest seed of doubt in her heart.
Regardless, Alice went back to the library and secured all the paperwork in the safe. Everything she had been working on, the journal, her notes, and her copies of the original documents. That didn’t mean she believed John was the traitor. She refused to believe it. Just thinking about it caused a deep ache in her chest. But the fact he had returned when he did made the circumstantial evidence against him stronger. She was sure Nathaniel would use the timing as further evidence of John’s culpability. In either case, she had promised to keep this mission strictly secret, between Dalton, Nathaniel, and herself. If she felt disloyal for hiding things from her former partner, she suppressed the feeling. After all, it was the way of the spying business. One should share information only on a need-to-know basis.
After locking the safe, she trudged up the stairs, seeking her own bed, although she knew sleep would elude her tonight. She had much to think about. Mulling over John’s invitation to accompany him to his father’s estate for one. The idea had seemed outlandish at first. Her connection to the family was of the illicit kind. The kind that was kept secret, hidden away, and covered up with money and lies, not acknowledged in public.
And then there was Nathaniel. Alice entered her room and, after locking the door, she disrobed and prepared for bed as she thought about her husband. He already suspected she had committed adultery. What would he think when he found outthe truth? Would he be understanding, or would that finally convince him of how unsuitable she was? Or, on the contrary, would he think her fears of not belonging were silly? Regardless of his reaction, she would have to tell him everything when he came back.
Perhaps it was time to accept John’s invitation. There were questions that had haunted her all her life, shadows she needed to face. She couldn’t yet define what she was seeking, only that it still eluded her. Maybe confronting her past was the only way to claim a future.
In the end, the choice came easier than she expected. She would leave with John at first light.
CHAPTER 20
Itwasalmosttenat night by the time Nathaniel stepped out of the hackney that had driven him from the train station to Alice’s home.Theirhome. Fatigue dragged at his legs after the long journey from Greystone Manor. Despite his rush to leave, he had not been able to discharge all his duties and make sure Mr. Fletcher had all the instructions and information he needed to continue to mitigate the crop’s plague until well after midday. He still had managed to catch the last train to London. Thus his arrival at this ungodly hour.
But it was worth it. Beneath the fatigue, a quickening pulse urged him forward as he let himself into their Kensington townhouse. At this time, she would probably be working in the library. Either poring over paperwork or knitting. He smiled as he imagined the scene. Such a soft, quiet endeavor for a woman who was both sharp witted and adventurous. The contrasts in her never ceased to amaze him. He could spend a lifetime analyzing all her facets. The door clicked softly behind him,and the familiar scent of beeswax polish and faint lavender enveloped him. Home. Soon he’ll hold Alice in his arms again. God, he had missed her.
Setting his valise down in the hall, he grabbed a candle from the side table and lit it, shielding the flame from the draft. The house was silent. Was she sleeping already? Strange. She usually didn’t retire before midnight.
He climbed the stairs two at a time, eager for the sight of Alice curled in their bed, her dark hair loose over her pillow, her breathing deep and even in sleep.
He would wake her carefully. Startling an agent like Alice, who was skilled in self-defense, could be dangerous. But he would be ready for her reaction, and he would savor the moment recognition set in. Her eyes would soften and her lips would curve into that tender smile that had haunted him every night he had been away from her. She might even scold him for not sending word ahead. He smiled faintly at the thought.
But when he pushed open the bedroom door, his smile faltered. The bed was perfectly made. Unwrinkled. The coverlet smoothed as if no one had lain upon it all day. The air in the room was still, undisturbed.
