“I assume you informed thecomteyou are leaving?” Mark couldn’t help but ask.
“I wrote him a note this morning,” Nicole replied, without taking her attention from the scenery beyond the window.
Mark watched her carefully from beneath hooded eyes. The jolt of the carriage gently swayed her body. The slender column of her neck strained as she stared out into the lush countryside. Her nostrils flared slightly. She was clearly angry. She didn’t like having to agree to his condition. Excellent, he thought dryly. Sex with an angry wife was certain to be a pleasure. Had he pushed her too far? Had he demanded too much? Only time would tell. The bigger part of him had already decided he’d worry about that later. For now, he’d got her to agree to come back to London with him. A smile touched his lips. Victory.
“How is your family?” she asked, plucking at the folds of her skirts, still not looking at him. She was getting back at him for his mention of thecomte.
“If you mean my father’s family, they are well. I was in Rome not a year ago.”
“And yourmother’s family?” She opened her reticule and rummaged around inside, still not meeting his gaze.
“From what I hear, they’re doing well,” he bit out. “My cousin John recently became betrothed. Or so the papers say.”
“You hear about your family through the papers?” she asked, finally meeting his gaze.
“Does that surprise you?” He slumped down, one elbow braced against the coach’s seat.
“I suppose it shouldn’t.” She set her reticule to theside and began unbuttoning her gloves, clearly settling in for the long ride. “Who is the fortunate young lady?”
“John’sfiancée?” he asked. “Fortunate because she’ll be a future duchess?” He continued to watch her intently while pretending not to. He was suddenly jealous of her gloves, their proximity to her delicate fingers, her milky skin. The slow, deliberate way she was removing them made him shift in his seat.
“No. That’s not what I meant at all.” Her voice was sharp. “I meant fortunate because your cousin is a good man.”
“Of course you did,” Mark replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I forgot you know him.” He shook his head and averted his gaze out the window. Best not to watch her until she finished with those damned gloves.
“And your uncle?” she continued.
“Not doing as well, I’m afraid. He has a disease of the lungs. The doctors are not hopeful.”
“Was that in the papers too?” A hint of surprise registered in her voice.
“No. I keep up on the latest with his health.”
“Have a spy on it, do you?” she asked.
He glanced over. The first glove came off.
“Something like that.” Mark hated to admit he cared enough about his mother’s family to check on them, but it was true. According to his sources, his uncle was on death’s door. Mark intended to visit him soon, to say good-bye. It was the least he could do but he wasn’t about to admit that to Nicole. He’d checked on her too. Whenever one of his colleagues had been in France over the years, he’d asked them for a full reporting of Nicole’s coming and goings. They’d failed to mention the orphanage. Or thecomte.He needed to have a talk with them.
“I’m sorry to hear that your uncle’s health is failing.” Nicole’s second glove came off and she carefully folded them together and set them on the seat next to her.
“Thank you,” he intoned.
“Does he still not publicly acknowledge you?” she asked next. Yet another dig.
“At my request, yes,” he replied in as unaffected a tone as he could muster.
She shook her head and sighed. “I’ll never understand why you don’t tell your superiors at the Home Office about your family. Besides, they’re blasted spies, you’d think they’d have figured it out by now.”
Mark pulled off his hat and let it fall to the seat next to him. “Some of them know. The astute ones do.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Do they?”
“Yes, and they also know I have little to do with my family.”
“And the others?” she prodded.
He shrugged one shoulder. “The others are politicians, not spies. All they care about is themselves. They can’t imagine someone being related to a man like my uncle and not claiming it. It’s been a simple task keeping the truth from them.”
