CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The next morning, Nicole awoke to an empty bedchamber. The hammock was gone and so was Mark and his trunk. She’d overslept. She winced. Mark was probably standing outside by the coach, tapping his boot on the ground and consulting his timepiece.
Nicole tossed on her traveling gown and flagged down one of the maids in the hall to help with her stays and buttons. She pulled on her pelisse and gloves and hurried downstairs to find Mark sitting at one of the tables in the great room, eating breakfast.
“Ah, there you are, Mrs. Grimaldi,” he said with a bright smile on his face.
She stopped short and crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought you’d be waiting.”
“And so I am. Would you like some breakfast before we leave?”
“Yes.” She picked up her skirts to climb over the bench in front of the table where Mark sat.
Mark ordered her breakfast and asked the innkeeper to fetch the coachman to retrieve Nicole’s trunk. She ate quickly, only too aware of Mark watching her, a smug smile on his face.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” she finally asked after she’d taken a bite of eggs.
“Am I staring?” he asked lazily, his chin resting on his propped-up hand.
“I’d say so,” she retorted.
“You’re quite beautiful, Nicole.”
The eggs slid down her throat. What? Had he actually just said that? It was almost as if he was flirting. If he was going toflirtwith her, she wasn’t going to be able to withstand it. She’d be back in his bed in no time. The man could be downright charming when he chose to be.
Not half an hour later, they were ensconced in the coach. They’d purchased more bread and cheese from the innkeeper and Nicole had refilled the basket. The horses were hitched, the trunks had been packed in the back, and the coach took off at a steady clip toward Calais.
The morning was spent mostly in silence. They spoke only of things that did not bring up memories. The weather, their meals. Nicole carefully avoided any fraught subjects such as Mark’s family and, oh, their failed marriage.
“What are your plans?” she finally asked him after they’d stopped for lunch and to change out the horses. They nibbled on the contents of the basket again.
“Plans?” Mark met her gaze and quirked a brow.
“Yes, for your new position as Home Secretary.”
His face registered surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to ask such a thing. Good. She liked to keep him guessing. Being predictable was ever so dull. “Knowing you, I’m certain you have large and involved plans.”
The hint of a smile passed across his lips. “I do.”
“And?” she prompted. “What are they?”
He studied her as if trying to determine whether she truly wanted to hear about his plans. He must have decided she was serious because he took a deep breath and said, “I intend to implement a police force in London.”
Nicole couldn’t help her tiny gasp of surprise. “A police force?” she echoed.
“Yes. The city is sorely in need of one. It should start in London and eventually work its way throughout the country.”
Nicole nodded. He never failed to impress her. “I see.” She took a bite of sweet cheese.
“What do you think?” he asked. He’d surprisedherthis time. Did he truly care about her opinion on the matter?
“I think it’s high time. Working with the runners taught me how little recourse people have when they’re victims of crime. Especially the poor.”
“I agree.” Mark nodded. “The runners have been stretched impossibly thin. And while there are guards at the gates into town, a group of men whose sole job it is to enforce law and order is greatly needed.”
“Only men?” She couldn’t help her sardonic smile.
He arched a brow in her direction. “It’ll be difficult enough to secure the funding from the government without my telling them that women will be a part of it.”
