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Lisette’s dark eyes brightened. “Ah, we are to be done with this? No more will you wait on the devil?”

She had to smile. “Yes. I am done with this work, after this. But I do not know what I will do next. You might think for yourself what you will do.”

The maid drew herself up in affront. “I won’t abandon you.”

“Not abandon. Perhaps you wish to retire also. I will provide you a generous annuity.”

Lisette sniffed. “Perhaps not. But I will think, Madame, since you wish it.”

“Do.” Angelique turned to go. “I think the time to decide will be upon us very soon.”

* * *

The subtle change Nate had sensed in Angelique, beginning with Ian Wallace’s arrival, lingered through that evening and night. The question he had wanted answered all along was looming ever larger in Nate’s mind: what the devil had Stafford told her to do? Find Dixon, was all she had ever told him, but there was no need for that to make her anxious, especially not now, when they were closer than ever. If Stafford was just hounding her to find the man, she should be at ease and confident. Instead she was tense and short-tempered, and Nate caught her staring at the fire after dinner with an expression of such ferocious concentration he couldn’t take it any longer.

“Why are you upset about Wallace’s visit?” he finally asked.

She started out of her reverie and blinked at him. “Ian? I am not upset at Ian.”

“Not at Ian,” he said carefully, seeing how she had picked a way through his words. “At his visit. At Stafford, perhaps, for sending him.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “There was no need for him to send Ian. We have been working diligently, and still he is impatient. It irks me to be poked and prodded to work faster, faster, faster.”

Of course it would, and yet. “That’s not the whole problem, is it?” he tried again. “That alone would be irritating, but… I think there’s something else.” She just stared at him, the flickering flames atop the candles reflected in her dark eyes. “I hope you can trust me by now, even with Stafford’s squalid little scheme,” he tried to tease, with a crooked grin.

That was the wrong thing to say, though. She leapt up from her chair and paced away, gripping her hands before her. Nate followed, feeling as though she’d stabbed him. “What’s the matter?” he demanded.

She twisted out of his reach. “It is nothing,” she snapped. “Only that I wish I had never agreed to do this. If only it were ended already…” She closed her eyes and drew herself up stiffly. “We should make every effort to capture Mr. Dixon tomorrow or the day after. Stafford has grown restive, and if he is not soon satisfied, he will send others in who will not care for your goals at all.”

“What, then?” All Nate’s instincts were screaming in alarm. “What goal does Stafford have besides finding Dixon, Angelique? What does he want you to do?”

The color fled her face, and for a moment he thought she might faint. He reached for her and this time she let him pull her into his arms. “What is wrong?” he asked again, desperately. What could Stafford want? Did Dixon have some other secrets the Crown wanted to discover? Were they not planning to allow him to take Dixon back to New York as planned? Were they planning to keep him from returning to New York? “Whatever it is, tell me! I swear on my honor I won’t be unreasonable.”

She tipped back her head to look up at him. Her beautiful face was somber, almost melancholy. “When this is over, and you have gone back to New York, how will you remember me?”

As the woman I love. As the woman I would cross an ocean to find. As the woman I cannot live without. But not as a woman who trusted him completely. “As the most exceptional woman I have ever been fortunate enough to know.” She closed her eyes and laid her cheek against his shoulder. Nate wrapped his arms around. “Why?”

“I merely wondered.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a silent sigh that spoke more eloquently than any words of the weight bearing down on her—whatever that weight was.

He wondered what terrible thing Stafford had told her to do. Kill him? Kill Dixon? Help him find Dixon, and then take the money for the British Crown? He was tired of worrying over it, tired of trying to get her to tell him. Suddenly he, too, wanted this over. Let Stafford’s secret plan proceed, so at least it would be out in the open and not chipping away at the bond between them. “I agree,” he murmured, still stroking her back. “We should take Dixon as soon as we can manage it.” He pressed her away from him, so he could see her face. “But promise me one thing: when this is over, there will be no more games or secrets between us. Ever. Please.”

She smiled, but it was a sad thing. “I promise.”

He nodded once and pulled her close again, hoping he had asked for the right promise.

Chapter Twenty-Six

They elected a bold strike instead of stealth. The next afternoon Nate and Angelique strolled right into the Pulteney Hotel and asked to see Mr. Chartley.

There was some delay as the porter went up to see if Mr. Chartley would receive them, and then again after he came back down to ask who they were and why they wished to see him. Angelique just waved her fan, acting the bored society lady again, while Nate pressed a guinea and one of his cards into the porter’s hand. “Tell him Davis Hurst sent us,” he said with arrogant condescension.

The porter hurried away, and came back almost a quarter of an hour later to say Mr. Chartley would see them in one of the private parlors beyond the dining room. He led them there, then vanished with an assurance they would not be disturbed, another guinea from Nate in his pocket.

“I don’t think he’s much interested,” said Angelique listlessly. “We’ve waited an eternity.”

“He’s interested, my love.” Nate also kept up his masquerade. He dropped into a chair and crossed his legs. “Mr. Hurst assured us he would be.”

“Well. I hope you are right.” She lowered her head and examined her fan.