Her lips parted, a faint tremor running through her. He made it sound intimate. Almost sensual. She turned away, bending to slide two meat pies into the oven to heat them up for him.
“That’s impressive. I thought your skills might be rusty after all these years tending to crops.”
“First, I had grown ‘soft’, now my skills are ‘rusty’. I thought I had already proven otherwise.” His tone was smooth as silk, his eyes daring her to remember how he had proven himself over and over.
Were they even talking about ciphers anymore?
“So you did. I see your mind is as sharp as ever. It really is a shame that you’ll be retiring from spy work. A mind like yours should not rot away on mundane lordly matters.”
He snorted. “You think being a lord is easy? That overseeing an estate that manages hundreds of people and several business ventures, while championing controversial bills in the House of Lords and navigating society is easy? Compared to that, breaking code is child’s play.”
“That is not what I meant. But most people would not have been able to break that cipher.”
“Speaking of which, how did you know about the Vigenère cipher? Have you come across one?”
“Not me. But my father—I mean, Mr. Finch—once worked on one. It took him considerably more time than it took you to break it.”
“He’s still your father, Alice. In any way that counts.”
But Mr. Finch had never wanted to be her father. As a child, she had idolized him. Growing up in her mother’s world of the theater, Alice never felt she had truly belonged there. She had learned plenty of skills that would help her in her career as a spy, about costumes, make-up, acting skills, projecting certain emotions, and reading people. But she lacked the passion, thepenchant for drama and attention craving that was required for it.
Her father, however—or the man she had believed was her father—she had found him so clever and interesting. He was a scholar and a code expert. She wanted to be like him. Had done everything she could to earn his attention. His approval. His love. She had not known it was a lost cause. Because while she had been ignorant of the circumstances of her birth, he certainly had not been.
“No, he isn’t. He didn’t want to be. He tolerated me. Was never actively cruel. But he felt no love for me.” She had never mentioned these feelings to anyone. Not even Nathaniel. But for some reason, now the confession broke free. Like a festered wound that had been lanced.
“I never understood until John revealed the truth about my parentage. I always wondered why he left shortly after I met you. Then I understood. With my mother gone, there was nothing here for him. I was nothing to him. He walked away from me so easily. Not a backward glance.”
“Then he was a fool.” Nathaniel almost snarled.
“Still, I loved him like a father. Finding out I had been sired by another man didn’t change my feelings for him. Why couldn’t he love me, Nathaniel? Even if I was not a child of his body, surely I deserved some affection? People raise other people’s children all the time. Just look at the duke and duchess of Aycliffe. I’ve visited them a couple of times after I brought them the twins, and it’s clear they love the babies already. But my father—Mr. Finch—he raised me for twenty years, and couldn’t…I did not inspire love.”
Nathaniel stood and came to her, his hands grabbed her shoulders, turning her to him. “That was his deficiency. Not yours.”
She just shook her head. “I no longer want to discuss Mr. Finch.” His abandonment when she had still believed him to be her father had hurt too much. “I don’t even know why I told you all this. It’s water under the bridge.”
“There’s no such thing. Even water erodes and shapes the landscape through which it runs. Leaving clues. Etching patterns.”
The way Nathaniel studied her as if he wanted to read into her soul unsettled her. So she turned away and bent to take the pies out of the oven. “Here, eat. Do you want some wine?”
He nodded, and she busied herself pouring the wine, but if she thought he would let go of the subject, he soon disabused her of that idea.
“At some point, you are going to have to let me in, Alice.” He studied her over the rim of the glass as he took a sip of wine.
“I don’t know what you mean. I’ve let you into my life, my body, my heart—”
Her sentence was cut short as he snatched her by the waist and positioned her on his lap. One arm wrapped around her waist, his free hand curled behind her neck, his thumb caressing her cheek. “I want into your mind, your deepest fears, your secrets. Your soul. To see past the mask to the truth beneath—that is what ciphers are. Masks. And you. You are the most intricate puzzle I’ve ever encountered. You keep so much locked inside. Sometimes you reveal a bit, like now, only to retreat again. But I won’t rest. I am patient. And I won’t give up until there’s absolutely nothing between us.”
“You are not making sense. I keep no secrets from you. We had some misunderstandings, yes, but now you know everything there’s to know about me.”
“Hmm, I doubt that.” He nuzzled her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. “Once, I thought I knew you. But it’s obviousthere were hidden layers I had not glimpsed. Layers that are now separating us. You are a puzzle I intend to solve.”
No! She had already shown him enough of her flawed self. He already knew too much. It was probably only the mystery that kept him interested in her, but she was no puzzle to solve.
“Nonsense. There are no secrets or layers between us. Now tell me, what did those documents say?” Better to move the subject to safer topics.
He exhaled loudly, examining her with too much understanding. At last, he ran a hand through his hair and looked away. A reprieve. She took the opportunity to scramble from his lap.
“Names and secrets. Mostly important people in government and their heirs. It seemed to be a compilation of all the people they planned to blackmail or maybe were already blackmailing along with their ‘sins’. And all the others they plotted to gain the upper hand over. Dalton’s name was on the list. Although he had no listed secrets. Next to his name, they only wrote the word ‘wife’. I don’t know what that means, but Dalton seems to know more.”
