In the past he’d accepted the risks as part of his job, but then he didn’t have Suzanne. Life was more appealing now than it had been in his army years.
But the simple fact was that he could not say no. Not to Wellington, and not to his own sense of himself and his duty. “I have personal business that gives me good reason to travel to Paris. If I should happen to see something interesting, naturally I would want to share that information.”
“Good man,” the duke said as he rose to his feet. “Sorry to be so abrupt, but now I must meet with some of my staff to look at maps.”
“And tonight you’ll probably have to go to a dinner party and look calm, all knowing, and completely certain that victory will be ours.”
The duke gave a bark of laughter. “Exactly. On your way out, give my secretary your address so that you and your lovely lady will be put on the various invitation lists. It’s going to be a spring filled with frivolity, and that’s another kind of war.”
They shook hands and Simon left, leaving his address with the secretary as requested. He’d thought his spying days were over, but apparently not.
Interesting times.
* * *
Suzanne was waiting for Simon when he returned from his visit to Wellington. Seeing his expression, she took his arm and guided him into his small office. After closing the door, she said, her lovely face sober, “I’m not going to like this, am I? Will you be joining his staff on a volunteer basis?”
He turned and enfolded her in an embrace, absorbing her warmth and inhaling her familiar scent of woman and tangy lemon. “Something you’ll like even less, I’m afraid.”
She stiffened and moved away, looking up into his eyes. “What?”
“Wellington isn’t allowed to send cavalry scouts into France, so he wants me to become a civilian spy because I can be an authentic Frenchman,” Simon said succinctly.
Her face became so pale that he feared she would faint. She folded into a chair and said, “Tell me how you intend to proceed.”
He took the other chair, hoping to God that this didn’t destroy the sweet, hopeful relationship they’d been building with such care. “I thought I’d pay a visit in person to Monsieur Morel in Saint-Denis. I have legitimate business with him and it will give me a good excuse to travel through northern France and Paris.”
She considered his words, then gave a short, decisive nod. “It’s a good reason since it’s true. We need a well-used carriage for the journey. We don’t want to look too prosperous.”
“We?”he said, startled. “I’m going alone, Suzanne.”
“No, you are not,” she said calmly. “We shall be quite unexceptional if we travel as a couple of modest means going to Saint-Denis to inquire about a possible inheritance. It’s a story that even a suspicious policeman will believe because it’s true.”
“I don’t want you to risk yourself, Suzanne,” he said vehemently. “I couldn’t bear it if you were hurt.”
“What a coincidence.” She gave him a cherubic smile. “I feel exactly the same about you.”
He glared at her. The intelligence officer in him realized that she was right: an unremarkable couple traveling together was less likely to attract attention than a man traveling alone. “You are too beautiful to travel unnoticed.”
“It isn’t difficult for a woman to make herself look drab and careworn,” she retorted. “You will also have to change your appearance to look less like an officer because you move with too much confidence and authority. You must already know how to do that since you’ve done this work before.”
“I have, and I’ll do it best alone! I don’t want you to come with me.”
“Is it that you don’t want me with you, or that you don’t want me to risk myself? Those are two different things.”
He gave a sigh of exasperation. “You know I always want you with me under ordinary circumstances, but not when going into possible danger. In a difficult situation, I’d be distracted by worry about you.”
“And vice versa.” Her gaze was serious. “I’m not completely useless, you know. You have taught me how to fight when that’s required and how to defend myself.” She frowned. “Before we leave, I’d like a few practice sessions in that shooting gallery you and Jackson have been visiting.”
He stared at her, his heart hurting. Hellacious to imagine anything happening to her at any time, but if he was responsible? The thought was unbearable.
“A quiet carriage ride to Paris is not such a dangerous matter, is it?” she said in a soft, coaxing voice. “French citizens do it all the time. We would be taking well-traveled roads and we’ll both be armed. We traveled to Château Chambron and back with no trouble. This would likely be the same.”
He shook his head. “France is worried and soldiers are gathering and eager to fight. Nor can we know what orders might be issued that would affect travelers. Napoleon might close the northern borders.”
“France is a large, vigorous nation. Napoleon and his ambitions may be center stage in the eyes of the world, but below that most of the population is going about their usual business, which includesnotairesand wills and legal proceedings.”
“We might have a safe, easy journey,” he admitted. “But we can’t know if that’s what will happen. France might explode with us in the middle of it.”
