The Beauty and the Spy (18 page)

“I'll light the lantern,” Nick said.

He struck a match, found the lantern, and watched a dim light fill the carriage. Charlotte was just where he had left her, propped in the corner, although her hair had seemed to suffer in her struggle. She was glaring at him so angrily he didn't think she saw their visitors. He had hoped she would come to understand his motivations where she was concerned.

Nick leaned closer to her and spoke calmly. “I'm going to remove the gag. Let us not have a repeat of past performances.”

When he pulled the gag away, she immediately bit his hand hard.

“Ow!” He let go a string of curses. “I told you not to overreact! You know why—”

“How dare you! You will never—ever!—do that to me again.”

“Charlotte—”

“Untie me this instant!”

It was all Nick could do not to use all his physical strength to restrain her as he untied her. When her legs were free she kicked him, when her hands were free she pointed a finger into his chest. He didn't even look at Will, thinking his friend would surely be smirking.

“What happened!” Charlotte turned toward the opposite bench. “And who—” Her voice sank to a whisper. “Jane?”

The women threw their arms around each other, and to Nick's surprise Jane was crying. His Charlotte only laughed and found her sister a handkerchief.

As Jane wiped her eyes, Charlotte turned to Will. “Hello, Will,” she said politely, while giving him a searching look.

It must be strange for her to see her sister's betrothed again, now that Charlotte knew the truth.

“Oh, Charlotte,” Jane said, “I cannot tell you how I've worried. I had no idea you had been kidnapped!”

“They only tell you what they think you should know,” Charlotte said grimly.

Nick smiled.

“Are you hurt?” Jane glared at Nick. “Did he—”

“No, nothing like that,” Charlotte quickly said. “I was frightened at first, but he never harmed me. I understand that I might have jeopardized everything if he'd allowed me to escape. But now”—she suddenly leaned toward Nick—“now I can help! And he won't let me.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nick tried to conceal his fears for Charlotte's safety. Surely Will would laugh that an untrained woman thought she could help in a serious investigation. What did it say about Nick that Charlotte felt herself capable of doing so? But Will only continued to smile.

“Char, see here,” Nick began, “I've been trained to deal with such things and you have not.”

“But I learn quickly!”

When she put her hand on his arm, did she know how her touch could work magic? How susceptible he was? But he was stronger, and would not let her dictate the relationship between them—certainly not in the matter of Julia Reed.

He stroked her hand. “I killed a man tonight, Charlotte. It is not a thing I want you to see.”

He could see her resistance melt in the softening of her gaze. “Were you hurt?” she whispered.

Nick wondered uneasily what Will and Jane thought of the intimate tone of her voice.

F
or a moment Charlotte couldn't speak as she noticed the blood that stained Nick's sleeve and thigh. She saw the glitter of fresh blood on the back of his hand, and her fingers trembled as she touched him. The wound was not deep, and seemed to be the only one, but still, she prattled on foolishly about his inability to take care of himself, all to cover up the depth of her relief and love. She ripped the edges of her worn petticoats to use as bandages and set to work. Only once did she glance at her silent sister, but the understanding in Jane's expression had Charlotte wondering. Had Jane also fallen in love? Did she now
understand the worry of losing someone to this horrible battle for England's safety?

Charlotte still could not believe how different Will seemed, yet after watching Nick's and Sam's easy assumption of new roles, she shouldn't have been surprised. The monocle Will used to wave about was gone, as were his excitable manner and foppish clothing. He had the same air as Nick, of a man who had faced danger and could count on himself to overcome it.

But they didn't like trusting anyone else. She had to make her peace with the fact that even though she had helped in some ways, she was still a nuisance in others. Nick could never completely trust her in this business he'd given his life to. She could not blame him for tying her up, not when he had a duty to finish.

“We should leave,” Will said.

Charlotte still had so much she wished to say to Jane. “But—I thought we could talk.”

“I need to tell her the truth about our family,” Jane said.

Nick moved his hand away, and Charlotte found herself wanting to hold it close, as if it could reassure her of his safety, his survival.

“Make it fast,” he said.

Charlotte rolled her eyes.

Then Jane reached for her hand, her expression troubled. “Charlotte, it will be difficult to bear, but you must know that Papa lied to us. He was more than just a soldier in the army.”

“He was a spy,” she answered immediately, feeling relieved.

“You knew!” Jane turned to Will. “Did everyone know but me?”

“Of course not. Your mother still knows nothing,” he said firmly, though he glanced at Nick. “I think.”

Charlotte gripped her sister's hands. “I kept it a secret, Jane. I only found out a few days before you left. I was feeling lost and bored, and I decided to explore the attic. I found a box of journals that I'm certain Papa thought he'd lost. So much of his life was there, Jane, and it was fascinating.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Jane asked.

In her voice was a hurt Charlotte hadn't meant to cause. “Because—because you were focused on this betrothal, and I'll admit, I thought to keep something to myself for a while. It was wrong of me, Jane, and I was going to tell you the moment you returned. His life was so exciting! He did so many dangerous, brave things—”

“So Charlotte thought she could become a spy like your father,” Nick interrupted, reminding her of everything that had happened between them.

“I did not!”

“Then what do you call hiding in a wardrobe, listening in on conversations that were none of your business, that could have gotten you killed?”

But that was only the start of their adventures, and she wondered if he would laugh when he told Will how she'd delayed Julia.

“I was doing my duty for England,” she said angrily.

“You're lucky it was me who discovered you.”

His arrogance could still astound her. “Hardly lucky!”

She locked gazes with Nick, and for a moment the spark of their intimate relationship crackled between them. How boring her life would have been if she hadn't met him!

Will finally spoke up. “Would you like Charlotte to travel with us?”

“No!” Charlotte immediately said, and was relieved when Nick said the same thing.

Nick seemed surprised at his own outburst, and obviously found a rationale. “For one thing, Charlotte has it in her head that she needs to help me. She'd only cause you concern by trying to escape.”

Charlotte smiled at his naiveté.

He ignored her. “And the other thing is that the two of you are in just as much danger as we are. So don't worry about Charlotte. I have Sam and my driver aiding me. When this is over, I'll bring her to the colonel and try to…explain everything.”

Now
Jane
was smiling at him, and Charlotte relaxed, knowing that her sister understood.

Nick looked between them suspiciously. “Now back to the matter at hand,” he said. “One of the villains escaped, and could be off warning
Julia right now. Her estate is not far away. Charlotte and I need to stay ahead of her, and you two need to go off to your wedding.”

Charlotte hugged her sister tightly, hoping Jane found happiness with Will, a man who was actually ready for marriage.

Jane whispered, “Will you be all right? What if he ties you up again?”

Sighing, Charlotte hugged her tighter. “It will be fine. He doesn't know it yet, but I have everything in hand.” If only that were so.

“I'm not sure what Julia is doing at her brother's estate,” Nick said to Will, “but I'm certain she'll leave in the morning, headed for Leeds. It will be over soon.”

“Take care.” Will shook Nick's hand. “Send Sam to tell me when it's done.”

“If you need me,” Nick added, “send a message to the only inn in Misterton. I'm registered as Mr. Black.”

Will stepped down out of the carriage, and with relief Charlotte watched the gentle way he helped Jane down. Jane glanced up at Charlotte, who could see the worry in her sister's face. Charlotte gave her a smile full of a confidence she didn't quite feel.

The carriage suddenly creaked and slowly began to rumble across the uneven field. For a moment Charlotte kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, searching for control of her emotions. She
realized sadly that part of her envied Jane, who had a man who wanted nothing more than to be Jane's husband.

But Charlotte wouldn't be that lucky. She could only enjoy what she had with Nick for a brief time, until he moved on out of her life.

“Are you all right?” Nick asked.

His voice sounded guarded, even hesitant.

She smiled with a confidence she was far from feeling. “I'll be fine.”

“Did you want to go with her?” His face was a study in impassivity.

“You didn't hear me hesitate, did you?” She sat back, folded her arms across her chest, and frowned at him. “Are you wishing I would have gone?”

He paused, but this time she immediately understood the reason, for he was looking at her with a hot stare that melted her anger and resistance. He caressed her cheek, then slid his hand back into her hair and roughly tipped her head back until their faces were inches apart.

“I need you to stay,” he whispered, then kissed her.

Charlotte wrapped her arms around his neck and straddled his lap, impatiently pushing down the mound of her skirts so she could touch as much of him as possible. They kissed fiercely, greedily, their bodies pressing together with an eagerness they couldn't contain much longer.

“How long until we reach this inn?” she said against his mouth.

“Too long,” he answered with a groan.

They both reached for the buttons on the other's garments, and then laughed breathlessly as they fought with their hands between them.

The carriage suddenly slowed.

Nick dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. “That will be Sam. You make me forget everything but you.”

She knew he meant it lightly, but somehow the way he phrased his statement sounded almost…accusatory. Was he saying everything was her fault? But no, she was trying too hard to ascribe a deeper meaning to what he said.

There was nothing deep between them—at least on his part.

Charlotte scrambled off his lap and had righted her clothing by the time Sam opened the door and jumped aboard. The carriage immediately sped up.

Sam looked between them for a moment, and Charlotte tried to control her breathing and just smile. Sam's answering smile seemed rather forced, and he stared at Nick a moment too long.

“Did everything go okay?” Nick asked casually.

Charlotte admired his easy ability to act as if nothing had happened between them.

Yet it felt like this proved there
was
nothing between them.

“We buried the body without too much interference from the locals,” Sam said. “It seems they've been having a rash of burglaries lately, and are glad we've helped solve their problems.”

Nick sighed. “They'll figure out sooner or later that we haven't helped a bit. But we've helped ourselves. There's one less man out there under Julia's control. This must be why Campbell never met up with me yesterday. He already had plans to get rid of all of us.”

“He was the one we killed?” Charlotte asked.

Nick gave her a strange look. “Yes,
I
did. I never did see the face of the other man. This will make things difficult.” He suddenly frowned and looked at Sam.

“And Will helped you?” Charlotte continued.

“He and his coachman Barlow,” he said distractedly. “And yes, Jane was perfectly safe in their carriage. She was quite angry with me for putting you in danger. But wait—Sam, I need you to go back to Julia's, to see if the other henchman returns to report to her.”

“He'd be foolish to do that,” Sam protested. “It's the first place we'd look for him.”

“But we can't take the chance that he might convince her to run in the middle of the night. You go keep an eye on her stables, and I'll take your place in a few hours.”

“Very well,” Sam said, knocking on the ceiling of the carriage to get Cox's attention.

Even Nick seemed to notice Sam's strange mood.

“Is something wrong?” Nick asked.

“Nothing that can't wait until later. You'll be at the Peacock Inn in Misterton?”

Nick nodded.

“Then I'll await your signal at the Reed manor.” Sam turned to Charlotte and smiled more genuinely. “Good night.”

When Sam had gone, and the carriage had returned to it's repetitive rumbling, Charlotte thought Nick seemed distracted. Yet even as he appeared lost in thought, he put his arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled against him, breathing in his scent, content to wait.

A half hour later, when they reached the tiny country inn as “Mr. and Mrs. Black,” they found a steaming hip tub already in their room. The innkeeper claimed it was for Charlotte, compliments of their friend Mr. South.

“That Sam,” Charlotte said, dipping her fingers into the bath, and then flicking droplets at Nick. “He's always thinking of me.”

“But not of me,” Nick said dryly. “I don't think he thought I'd be a part of this bath.”

She inhaled swiftly, suddenly unsure. “But you're not leaving, are you?”

“And leave you to wash alone?” He walked around the far side of the tub, as if stalking her. “How unchivalrous that would make me!”

She laughed softly, then her amusement died as he stopped her fingers from unfastening the buttons at her throat.

“Allow me,” he whispered.

And thus began one of the most satisfying, tender hours of her life.

Nick allowed her to do nothing for herself. He undressed her, kissing each inch of skin as it was revealed.

When she was in the bath he washed her slowly, rubbing the wet, soapy cloth into her skin in circular, gentle motions. He washed everything for her, no matter how she protested, then lifted her out of the tub and into a soft nest of towels to dry her.

Then he made her close her eyes, and the wonder of waiting for his caress heightened her feelings. His lips rode the rounded tops of her breasts, and then down below, giving the lower curves of her breasts just as much attention.

She floated in a sea of sensation, her skin sensitized to his every touch. She could tell when he dipped his tongue into her navel, or when his lips brushed her inner thigh. She felt his shoulders separate her legs, then the warmth of his breath across her curls. He kissed her intimately and she cried out her delight as his tongue parted the folds of her flesh and delved deeper. She watched his dark head between her thighs. Too soon he stopped, and she stiffened with frustration.

“Wait,” he murmured, then lifted her onto
her knees. He moved behind her, kneeling between her knees, his erection pressing into her lower back.

She tried to turn and look at him.

“No, look ahead,” he said.

She followed his pointing hand and saw to her surprise that he'd positioned them just in front of the standing mirror. She could see herself, naked in the flickering lamplight, kneeling with her thighs spread, and Nick just behind her, looking over her shoulder. Her dark hair streamed down about her shoulders, partially hiding her, and he pulled it to her back. When she raised her arms up high to caress his hair, his hands came up to cup her breasts. She moaned and squirmed against him, her eyes half closed as she watched his fingers tease her nipples.

Nick had never seen anything as beautiful as the image of Charlotte in the mirror, aroused, glowing, watching herself be pleasured. He could barely keep himself from bending her over and thrusting inside her. But he wanted her to see how they were with each other, to see that the magic they created banished any thought of her sadistic husband.

When she was panting and writhing with unfulfilled desire, he slid his hand slowly down her body, then between her thighs. She groaned and pushed against his hand, arching her body to instinctively seek the power of her passion. She was wet with wanting him, and it was easy to comb
his fingers through the hot recesses of her body. Using both hands now, he spread her wide, so she could see how he touched her, see the little nub of flesh that was the center of her desire. He caressed and circled it, plunging his fingers inside her and back out.