She heard Harlan moving closer, so she continued forward without waiting for him to join her. However, with each step that she took, she could sense the continued tension swirling between them. It made her heart pound and her hands flex anxiously.
Leah had to stand by while Harlan unlocked the cottage, but as soon as it was safe to do so, she headed for the seclusion of the bedchamber. She had no idea what she might do to occupy her time for the rest of the afternoon, but she wasn’t going to sit in the parlor and keep going over the same conversation, because she knew it would change nothing.
She was grateful that he didn’t try to waylay her as she walked into the room and shut the door behind her. After leaning against it a moment for temporary support, she pushed off and walked over to the solitary window that overlooked the river. She put a hand on the glass and had to wonder if this prison was any better than the one she faced when she arrived in Birmingham. If nothing else, she should write to her brother and inform him of the situation she currently faced. She doubted that he would be overly concerned, but at least she would have done her part and absolved her conscience.
She walked over to the desk and spied various writing implements. She supposed that was one good thing about staying in a small cottage. Things were easy to find when you needed them.
Sitting down, she dipped the quill into the inkwell and started to write. Once she had written a brief account of events, she read it over a second and a third time and then folded it neatly before sealing it with a dollop of wax.
She held it in her grasp and considered giving it to Harlan but decided that it would be best if they didn’t speak again right then.
Setting the letter on the desk, she went to the bed and lay down. Without anything else to do, her eyes fluttered closed and she fell into a weary sleep.
Harlan tappedhis fingers against his thigh as he sat in the parlor. He despised this inactivity. Generally, when he was waiting for word about the next carriage to intercept, he would make some inquiries of his own. But with the lovely Miss Lindquist staying here, he found himself with more time on his hands than he had originally anticipated.
After a quarter hour passed and she didn’t emerge from the bedchamber, Harlan ripped off his mask. It was starting to wear on his patience, but more than that, it was a constant reminder of all that he stood to lose should he offer his devotion to the wrong person. He had already convinced himself that she had no part in the current unrest in London, but he still couldn’t allow his guard to slip for an instant.
Nevertheless, he was finding it difficult to remain with this constant restlessness, this uncertainty about what to do next. With the spy he was trying to capture. And Leah.
After another thirty minutes had passed, Harlan got to his feet and walked into the hallway. He paused by the chamber door and realized that it was particularly silent inside. Knowing he risked much, he dared to open the door slightly and peer inside. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the object of his fascination on the bed, her eyes closed and her breathing steady.
He glanced about the room, prepared to leave, but spied the folded paper on the desk. Curious, he walked on silent feet to where the letter proclaimed her brother’s name on the front. His heart started to hammer in his ears. This might be the very proof that he had been waiting for.
Taking the letter and slipping back out of the room, he returned to the parlor where he opened the missive. It was a simple note that told of her journey thus far. He was relieved to find that she was being truthful about her kind treatment, at least. He should have been quite angry if she’d painted him in a bad light.
As he refolded it, he realized that everything seemed to be just as she’d claimed. Just because she had made her way from France didn’t mean that she was involved in anything that would cause concern. Harlan had excused several passengers for the same reasons. Why he was so intent on keeping Miss Lindquist at his side was something he had yet to fully comprehend, but he knew the time was running thin when it came to figuring that out.
Leaning against the settee, he pinched the bridge of his nose and decided that he needed some advice. Considering that Lucas was the most levelheaded of all of his men, he locked the front door behind him as he headed for the village a short distance away. He knew that the lock wouldn’t hold Miss Lindquist, but perhaps it would deter her long enough for him to return.
A brief time later, Harlan knocked on the wooden door of Lucas’s cottage. His summons was opened by the man he’d hoped to find. At first, his bespectacled ally seemed surprised to see Harlan standing on his front step, but he recovered quickly enough and opened the door wider for him to enter.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Appleton.” Harlan nodded a greeting to Lucas’s wife, who was holding their two-year-old daughter on her hip while she went about the cottage with a cleaning rag.
She glanced over at him and offered a polite nod. “Mr. Mathis.”
Once the pleasantries were exchanged, Harlan turned back to Lucas. “I was wondering if you might grant me a moment in private.”
With a quick glance at his wife, Lucas nodded. “Of course. Shall we talk in the back gardens?”
Although most of Harlan’s men lived within modest means, they were not suffering from poverty. He had ensured that when he’d agreed to work for the government and choose a group of trusted men to work with, whom he’d known for many years. He’d long had a fascination for the village of Gravesend and spent a lot of time there when he was trying to sort out his life after his father’s death. The history of Dick Turpin, one of the most infamous highwaymen to roam England in the eighteenth century, had been of particular interest to him. Thus, the reason for his contrived idea of holding up public coaches in search of a possible spy. Harlan admitted to experiencing a certain sort of thrill every time he’d donned the guise, until recently when it had begun to make him feel like a wastrel, rather than an honorable man who represented the interests of the new queen. He certainly didn’t like that Leah looked upon him unfavorably when he found he wanted her approval.
“Has something happened with Miss Lindquist?” Lucas asked once they were among the fragrant flowers of the gardens around them.
Harlan removed the letter from his pocket and handed it to him. “On the contrary, I believe. I retrieved this just before I arrived.”
Lucas lifted a curious brow, but quickly perused the letter before handing it back to him. “It seems genuine enough to me.”
“No hidden code that you could ascertain?” Harlan asked as he tucked the paper back securely.
“Not to my knowledge, but if we are considering her as a potential suspect, then it could be possible that it is more difficult to decipher than ones previously intercepted. If you like, I can keep it on hand and inspect it further.”
“No,” Harlan returned tightly. “That won’t be necessary. I am under the firm conviction that Miss Lindquist is without offense, that her explanation is genuine.”
“Then shall you release her?”
Harlan looked over at a section of bright blooms where a bee was playfully moving from center to center to gain the nectar within. “I am undecided as yet. I was hoping that you might give me some direction along those lines.”
“How can I help?” Lucas asked, the sincere note in his voice making Harlan realize that he had come to the right place.
