“Of course I can, but these are the type of people who will be suspicious of anything out of the ordinary. Any change. I need to keep as many things the same as I possibly can.”
She pressed her small pink lips together. Lips that he’d had indecent dreams about. “And the other reason?”
“I thought it would be obvious, but I need you. To interpret their language, of course.”
Daphne cupped a hand behind her ear. “Say that part again, Captain. What was it? I find I quite enjoy hearing that you need me.”
He grinned and stepped closer to her, allowing her to see the true plea in his eyes. “It’s true, Grey. I need you.”
She tapped an obviously impatient foot against the floor. “My name’s not Grey.”
“Not now it isn’t.”
She wrinkled her nose in her adorable fashion. “You need me?” she echoed.
Rafe had doffed his gloves and slapped them against his thigh. “Blast it, Daphne. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. It’s extremely dangerous. Trust me. I wouldn’t put you at risk again if it wasn’t the only choice. I know I’ll have to convince Julian also, but leave that to me.”
Daphne considered him down the length of her button nose. “Fine. Grant me my annulment, and I’ll consider it.”
The smile he flashed her was meant to inform her that there was no chance of that happening. Of course he gave her credit for trying. Some. She had pluck. He’d give her that. But then again, she’d always had pluck. For a Society lady.
“I’m afraid that won’t work,” he replied.
Her face began to turn red. “What? Why not?”
He knew she was considering stamping her foot but he guessed she didn’t want to appear childish. Good choice.
“We must remain married for the same reason we married in the first place,” he answered. “If we’re caught, you’d be ruined.”
“I’ll take my chances,” she shot back.
“Will you? Truly? Do you want to take that risk? Not to mention if we’re captured and we’re married, standing trial we will be unable to testify against each other.”
“You know as well as I that if we’re captured…” Her voice trailed off but she’d been about to say “we’ll be hanged.” He knew it. They both knew it. And that was much more dangerous than any risk to her reputation.
“We’ll be on English soil the entire time. Going to France is not a risk I’m willing to take with you.”
“Why, because I’m like asisterto you?” She nearly spat the words at him. He’d known those words had rankled when he’d said them to her last year. But it was the only thing he could think to say to make her believe, to make her understand. They couldnotbe together. Ever. It wasn’t possible. And if he’d thought for one blasted moment that charming, smiling, adventurous, off-limitsLadyDaphne Swift would have gone and fallen for him, actually believed their pretend marriage was more than pretend, he never would have agreed to take her with him on the first mission. Even if she did try to extort him by threatening to tell her brother that he’d compromised her, the little minx.
There had been something about the way that she’d threatened him so casually, as if it were part of her normal, pampered daily routine. “Take me with you to the docks. I’ll pose as your wife.”
“Never.”
“Never? Not even if I threaten to tell Donald that you… compromised me?” Her smile had been so alluring. And in the end, Rafe had agreed. Not because he couldn’t explain the situation to Donald Swift convincingly. Hell, he’d been convincing people of whatever he wanted to convince them of since he was a lad of thirteen. No. He’d done it because Daphne herself had persuaded him. He’d been intrigued by her bravery, her desire to help the war effort.
“What’s the matter, Captain?” she’d taunted. “Afraid that aladymight show you up? I may wear skirts, but I deserve to do my part for my country the same as any man, regardless of what’s between my legs.”
Those had been the words that had sealed her fate. Damned if she hadn’t been right. Daphne Swift came from a family of patriots. Both of her brothers had done what they could for their country and if the little Society miss wanted to prove her own worth, who was Rafe to keep her from it? He’d known that feeling after all. Wanting to prove your worth. His father had told him often enough that he’d never amount to anything.
“Very well,” he’d told her. “But you won’t be wearing skirts on this particular mission.”
Her eyes had gone wide then, too.
“What do you mean?” Her words had been a rushed whisper.
“You cannot pose as my wife. It would be suspicious and you are far too beautiful. I’d never take you to the docks and put you at risk of rape or worse.”
“If I’m not to be a lady, then what—”
