Chapter 20
Kate
Heat flooded Kate’s face as the rest of her went cold. James lingered in their embrace, and she was grateful for his strength. The world felt unsteady, as though she had been pulled from a dream too quickly. She drank in his warmth and tenderness, taking a careful breath.
He removed his arms from her waist, gave her one last smile, and turned to face the new arrival. Kate was startled when James reached for her hand, his fingers threading through hers as if they had always known the way.
Westmarch stood a few paces away, tall and commanding in the faint morning light. He regarded them in silence, one eyebrow raised.
Guilty panic sparked, but not because of the kiss. Had Westmarch discovered her investigation in London? Was he angry that she had left home to investigate the strange messages inTheMorning Post? That she had traveled to Dover? Her mind raced through every rule she had bent or broken, and there were far too many to count. He had mentioned a complaint, butshe could not recall making one unless he was referring to her request that certain agents write more legibly.
She was not surprised he had found her. She would ask him how, but she did not need to. This was Westmarch. And now he was here, before she had told James the truth. The two discordant halves of her world were crashing together, and she feared the inevitable ruin that was sure to follow.
Westmarch finally said, his voice gruff, “Let’s retire to the house. It seems we have some things to discuss.”
She and James walked together, his grip firm. The warmth of his palm anchored her even as apprehension threatened her peace. Whatever Westmarch was about to reveal, she only hoped she would have the opportunity to tell James herself about the name Raven, the work behind it, and the life she intended to keep. She wanted it to be a choice, not a confession dragged into the light.
James released her hand only when they reached the drawing room. He bowed to Aunt Edith, who was waiting for them and greeted Westmarch with the ease of old friendship.
“You have found my wandering guests, I see,” Aunt Edith said. “And without frightening my dog this time.”
Westmarch’s stern expression softened. “It appears the mutt is learning to trust me.”
Aunt Edith smiled. “How is your wife? And the new baby?”
At that, Westmarch was a man transformed. “Both are well. My daughter has already learned to command the household, including her two older brothers, more effectively than I ever could.”
“A sensible girl, then,” Edith said.
Westmarch’s mouth curved, but his attention returned to James and Kate. “Unfortunately, this is not merely a social call.”
Aunt Edith understood the request, at least in part. Westmarch had long consulted with her father and James onmatters of business, so a private discussion would not seem unusual. Kate only wished the matter before them were truly so mundane.
“Yes, of course,” Aunt Edith agreed. “My study is yours. I shall inform the servants you are not to be disturbed.”
Westmarch and James bowed to Edith and moved toward the study. Kate hesitated, then turned toward the stairs. Whatever Westmarch had come to discuss, the ledger copies would be required sooner or later. She retrieved the pouch from her chambers, her hands trembling, then joined them in the study. The door closed behind her, the click of the latch echoing in the hushed room.
Westmarch and James stood near the desk, talking in low voices. Kate moved to James’s side, her fingers turning white as she clutched the leather pouch.
Westmarch eyed them both in turn, brows raised. “I assume that, as two of my best agents, you have each reached at least half the truth by now.”
Kate’s breath caught.Two agents. Half the truth.
She turned to James. He was not simply a spy then. He was Westmarch’s spy.
James’s expression shifted only slightly, but it was enough to answer her unspoken question.
He had known they worked for the same man and said nothing. Regret crossed his face, brief but unmistakable, before he turned back to Westmarch.
Westmarch had known far more. He knew her full identity as Raven, that James was one of his agents, and was well aware that their families expected them to marry. Yet he had still said nothing. Whether it had been strategy, matchmaking, or both, Kate could not yet decide. But if he had told her the truth outright, she begrudgingly admitted she might have refused James on principle before giving him the smallest chance.
“Good,” Westmarch said dryly after observing them both. “It appears your journey was enlightening in more ways than one. You can discuss the personal implications later. I am here because several threads of my investigation have begun moving at once, and I dislike coincidence. Tell me everything you have discovered since I left London.”
James began with the meeting at the library, though to Kate’s relief, he omitted several details that would have made her blush. Westmarch offered no commentary. Only an occasional nod or twitch of his jaw indicated he was listening.
But when James came to their discovery at the warehouse, Westmarch lifted a hand to stop him. “The ledger. Tell me about it.”
The leather pouch grew heavier in Kate’s grasp.
