Grayson chuckled. "The story was too ridiculous. Who'd have believed such a tale?"
"Besides, I was the only man who knew it was Grayson Thayer we'd hired," Carleton added, "and I'd have to have denied any knowledge of it if I'd been contacted by the Army."
She nodded. "All right, so back to this business here in Philadelphia. You thought Sterling was Grayson so you just kept an eye on him. And you helped me."
Sterling looked at the well-dressed merchant. "You paid my bar bills."
"And left the ginger spice," Reagan added.
"And left the note at the Blue Boar warning me that Murray was hot on my heels. You signed it 'C. ' "
Carleton smiled. "I also closed the hatch. " He pointed upward. "Though that was clearly by accident. I'd heard, by way of one of my informants, that soldiers were being sent. I came to check on things, inconspicuously, of course, and saw the hatch open in the carriage house. When I spotted the printing press, I knew immediately that the woman was the penman every Briton in the city was looking for. What I didn't know was why our Grayson would be taking such a chance being involved in it . . . allowing it."
Reagan smiled proudly. "He didn't know."
Grayson looked over at Reagan. "Now I'm confused. What pamphlets?"
"Never mind," Sterling told him. "I'll explain it to you later. Right now, if you'll excuse us, I'd like to talk to Reagan alone."
"I must be on my way," Carleton said. "I shouldn't be seen here. Walk me out, Grayson. We'll see what we're to do here."
When both Grayson and Mr. Carleton had left the room, Reagan lifted her dark lashes to study Sterling's ashen face. He was sitting upright, but barely. She knew this wasn't the time or the place to confront him, but she couldn't help herself. "How could you have deceived me like this," she asked bitterly. "We were on the same side all these months and I didn't know it. I hated myself for loving you because you were the enemy."
Sterling tried to take her hand but she pulled away. "Reagan . . ." he drew a ragged breath. "I wanted to tell you, God knows I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. There were so many lives at stake that I couldn't tell anyone who I was. They find out you know I'm a spy and they'll hang you too, sweetheart."
"Oh, so you did it to protect me?" Her voice was laced with sarcasm. "Well, it was wrong. I felt dirty, ashamed of myself. You knew that. How could you stand there and tell me you loved me and then lie to me?"
Sterling gazed into her cinnamon eyes. They were streaked with resentment and anger. "It was an order."
"I don't know who you are now. " She got to her feet and began to pace. "The person I knew, was he Grayson? Was he Sterling going by the name of Grayson? Who did I make love to? You, or him?" She hooked her thumb upward, referring to Grayson.
"Me. It was me."
She shook her head, tightening her arms around her waist. She had never felt so alone in her life. "Lies. It was all lies. I loved a man who didn't exist. " And now I may carry his child, she thought.
Sterling's head was throbbing. "You have a right to be angry," he told her quietly. "But what was I supposed to do?"
"If you had a mission to fulfill, then you should have done it. You shouldn't have seduced me," she snapped.
"I didn't seduce you! I fell in love with you!"
"Don't shout at me, Grayson . . ." She took a deep breath " . . . Sterling."
A heavy silence hung in the air.
Sterling studied her face. He loved her so much. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but the pain he'd caused was etched deeply in her face. He closed his eyes. "Reagie, can we talk about this later? I'm hurting something awful."
She bit down on her lower lip. Why was everything so wrong? Her suspicions had been right. He was a patriot. Everything she had wanted was being handed to her. So why did she feel this ache in her heart? Could she forgive this man Sterling for his lies? She didn't know.
"You're right," Reagan said softly when she found her voice. She ran her hand along the cool wood of the printing press. "Let's get you upstairs and into bed. Tomorrow will be soon enough to sort this out between you and me."
Grayson sat in a chair he'd pulled up to Sterling's four-poster bed. His booted feet rested on the bed-frame. In his hand he held a glass of porter. He glanced about the bedchamber with interest. "Heavens, Sterling, you've made a mess of my clothing."
Sterling managed a smile. He was feeling better now. Elsa's tea had given him some strength. He was dead tired but he and Grayson had to talk before they slept. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you weren't a bloody redcoat!"
Grayson shrugged. "It was part of the agreement with Carleton. Besides. I figured you'd be safer that way."
Sterling snatched the glass from Grayson and took a deep swallow. The liquor burned a path to his stomach. "We were all so busy protecting each other that the left foot never knew what the right was doing!"
"Water over the dam now, Brother. " Grayson took back his glass and refilled it with wine.
"The question is, what do we do tomorrow? How do we get out of here with our heads still connected to our shoulders?"
"We?" Grayson laughed. "We're not going anywhere. You take the redhead and hightail out the minute you can sit straight on a horse. I'm staying."
"Staying?"
"Carleton's making the arrangements at this very moment. Once my identity is confirmed with your Captain Craig, I'll be taking your place. " He chuckled, sipping from his glass. "Or my place as the case may be."
"No. Captain Craig will never go for it."
"He'd be a fool not to!" Grayson leaned back, crossing his ankles on the edge of the bed. "The only man who knew who you were, Murray, is dead."
"No. There's the half-breed. His name's Indian John. Unless he was lying there dead in that alley, he could ruin us all."
Grayson waved his hand. "I don't know if he's dead or not yet. I'll find out tomorrow."
"If he isn't?"
"A minor detail. Carleton told me all about him. I'll take care of him."
"You won't know where to find him."
"Carleton's got people all over the city. If he's not already dead, we'll find and dispose of the halfbreed nuisance before you can say 'King Georgie's got the clap. ' "
"I don't like it, Grayson."
"Who cares what you like, big brother?" Grayson drained his glass and stood, stretching his legs. "Now tell me, what are you going to do when you leave? Where are you going to go?"
"I've got a new assignment in Williamsburg. I'll be able to go home. " Sterling paused. "I was going to ask Reagan to marry me."
Grayson gave a snort. "The woman who stomped by here a few minutes ago didn't seem to be in the marrying mood."
Sterling rubbed his temple. "She said I lied to her, that I deceived her."
"You did."
Sterling's eyes flew open. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"
Grayson toyed with a hair ribbon thrown over the back of a chair. "She has a right to be mad. The woman's got brains. She'd never have blown your cover. You should have told her the truth when you fell for her."
"It wasn't up to me, Grayson. It was a direct order. " He paused. "Besides, I thought I was sparing her. I thought I was protecting her."
"So what do you do now?"
Sterling slid down in the bed. It was lonely there without Reagan at his side. "Do? I wait until the steam blows and then I try to discuss it with her."
"Discuss, hell! I'd bed her. That's the quickest way to end a tiff if you ask me."
Sterling grabbed a pillow and flung it at Grayson, hitting him in the chest. "You're talking about the woman I love, so you'd better take care."
Grayson picked up the pillow and tossed it back onto the bed. "Go to sleep, your brain's turning to Christmas pudding. I've got to report in the morning so I'll want to get you up early. I'll need some information about Major Burke if I'm going to pull this off."
"All right. Elsa showed you your room?"
Grayson was already at the door. "Yea
h. Good night. Some sleep and things will look better in the morning."
"Good night. " Sterling blew out the candle beside his bed. "And Grayson . . ."
"Yes?" his voice came in the darkness.
"Thanks Brother."
Grayson paused. "For what?"
"For being here when I needed help. I'll never forget it."
Sterling heard the door close, then footsteps as Grayson went down the hall, and then silence.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Reagan stood outside Sterling's door, her hand resting on the polished knob, a breakfast tray balanced on her hip. A few hours' sleep had done nothing to clear her head. She was still so confused. She hated Sterling for deceiving her all these months, for putting her through a private hell . . . but deep in her heart she loved him. She loved him and she was proud of what he had done for his country. Quietly, she's slipped into his bedchamber.
Sterling was sitting up in bed, writing on a lap desk. He was bare-chested, the counterpane thrown carelessly over his lap to cover his nakedness. He glanced up and smiled when he saw Reagan.
She was dressed in a freshly pressed sprigged cotton gown, her thick auburn hair tied back in a green ribbon. She was a breath of sunshine.
"Morning," she greeted hesitantly. "I brought you a biscuit and some tea. Some of that English tea Mr. Carleton gave us."
He laid aside his report to Captain Craig and patted the counterpane. "Come sit for a minute."
She set down the tray and came to him, allowing him to take her hand. "Grayson left early to report to Major Burke. I hope he's going to be all right."
Sterling patted her hand. "He's going to be fine. We have to believe that."
She shook her head, looking away. Her hand felt good in his. "I like him, you know. He's so much like you . . . but he's different."
Sterling took a deep breath. He'd gone over and over in his mind how he would broach this subject. "Reagan," he said, deciding directness was his best approach. "It doesn't matter, darling, I'll understand, but I have to know."
"Know what?"
"Did . . . did you make love with him?"
She turned to Sterling, studying his anxious blue eyes. "No," she whispered. "I knew it wasn't you almost immediately."
"How?" He kissed the back of her hand, relief written all over his face.
"I don't know. There was just something different. " She broke into a grin. "I was positive when he kissed me. He doesn't kiss as well as you do."
Sterling laughed. "I'll be sure and tell him."
She joined in his laughter. "I already did."
Sterling pulled her into his arms. "Oh, God, Reagan, why does this all have to be so complicated?" He kissed the corner of her mouth and she responded against her will.
"No, you mustn't. Your head," she murmured against his lips. "Sterling, we have to talk."
"I don't want to talk. " He brushed his hand over the curve of her breast. "Nothing makes sense when we talk. This, this makes sense, though. " He pressed his lips against her mouth, his kiss gentle yet demanding.
"Sterling," Reagan said, a husky catch in her voice. "This isn't why I came. " Her mind was a jumble. She couldn't think when he was touching her like this, yet she couldn't force herself to stop him. She needed him so desperately.
"Shh," he soothed, easing her gently beside him on the bed. "Love me, Reagie. " He sprinkled her face with light, feathery kisses. "Let me take away your pain. Let me tell you I'm sorry."
With a soft cry of abandon, she gave up her resistance. She lifted her head off his pillow, taking his mouth with her own, delving deep to taste him. She ran her hand over his bandaged head, catching a lock of his clean golden hair. She stared up at him, her eyes riveted to his. "Yes, let me love you. " Her hand glided over his bare chest, but he caught it.
"No, lie back," he whispered, kissing her fingertips "Relax."
With a sigh, she obeyed. She watched him as his nimble fingers unhooked the front of her gown. She rested her hands on his shoulders as he pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Then came her corset and stockings and finally her shift.
Reagan's cheeks colored. The bright sunlight that poured through the windows made her feel self-conscious. She reached for the counterpane to cover herself, but he pulled it from her hands.
"No, let me look at you," he told her. He stretched out beside her, running a hand over her breasts, down her belly, veering to her creamy thigh. His light, sensuous touch made her shiver, though she was warm. She watched him as he studied her slim form, and a heat began to rise within her.
When Sterling lowered his mouth to a pert nipple, she gave a sigh of relief. Her muscles were tensed, her body a bow strung too tight. She threaded her hands through his shoulder-length hair, encouraging him. Ripples of pleasure radiated outward as he teased her flesh with the tip of his tongue, making her quiver with desire. She savored every shiver of pleasure, every sigh of ecstasy as he stroked her, whispering words of love.
"Sterling, please," she breathed. "No more. Come to me. " She lifted her arms. "I need to feel you inside me."
"No," he whispered, nibbling the lobe of her ear, his hot breath taunting her. "Not yet."
She writhed in sweet agony as he traced a pattern across the flat of her belly with his fingertips. Instinctively she lifted her hips as his hand moved closer to the apex of her thighs. When his hand met with the downy red curls, she moaned softly.
All thought of redcoats, lies, betrayal, and pregnancy slipped from her mind. There was nothing but the two of them and this glorious swirl of pleasure.
When Sterling finally lowered his body over hers, she was gasping for breath. He took her with one stroke and she cried out in sheer relief. They quickly began to move as one, faster and faster as they rode each crest of the waves of sensation. But each time Reagan almost reached that final peak of fulfillment, he slowed his pace, drawing out her pleasure until she thought she would die of it.
"No more," she whispered, stroking the wide expanse of his back. "Please, Sterling."
With a soft chuckle, he began to rise and fall again, delving deeper with each stroke. Higher and higher she climbed until finally her senses shattered. Her body tensed in ultimate rapture, once, twice, a third, and still he moved against her.
Sterling gave a cry spilling into her and then collapsed beside her. Reagan rolled over, allowing him to draw her into his arms. She cuddled against him, listening to his breath slow to a normal pace, taking in the tantalizing musky odor of their lovemaking.
Sterling brushed back a tendril of her auburn hair. "I've something to ask," he told her.
She studied him through the veil of her dark lashes. "Yes?"
His eyes fixed on hers. "Reagie, will you marry me?"
"Sterling, I—"
He pressed his fingers to her lips. "Hear me out. I've been assigned to a post in Williamsburg. I want you to go with me. I want you to be my wife."
For a moment she thought she would say yes. But how could she marry him? He'd lied to her. She didn't know this man, Sterling. The man she'd fallen in love with was an imposter—a combination of himself and his brother. The man she loved didn't exist. "I have to have time," she whispered. "So much has happened. You lied to me, Sterling."
His face fell. "I leave tomorrow. I can't give you any time."
She slipped out of bed and pulled on her shift. "Then I can't say yes."
"Reagan. You're not being reasonable."
"I can't leave Elsa. " She scooped her remaining clothes off the floor. Suddenly her heart was pounding again. She couldn't breathe.
"We'll take Elsa with us, then."
"She said she won't go. She said if I try to make her leave the city she'll run away and she'll keep running way."
"Then let her marry Ethan."
"Don't be ridiculous," Reagan scoffed. Her hand rested on the doorknob. If she didn't escape, she thought she'd faint. She hadn't expected him to ask her to marry him. She'd wanted him to, God know
s. But now, she couldn't bring herself to say yes. She'd lived her entire life here on Spruce Street. How could she leave her grandfather's home, her printing press, her life, to follow this man who'd deceived her?
"Reagan, it may be years before I can come back for you. This could be our only chance. Say you'll marry me."
Tears clouded her eyes as she swung open the door. "I can't. I'm sorry," she whispered as she fled the room.
Reagan bolted upright, soaked in perspiration and shivering with cold. Her heart pounded beneath her breast. She clutched at the cotton sheets, shaking with fear. Indian John! He was here! Here in her room! She could smell him!
She fixed her gaze on the window. The light curtains swayed in the breeze, the moonlight illuminating a patch on the floor. Her throat constricted in terror. She had closed that window before she'd retired. She was certain of it!
Reagan waited a long moment, expecting Indian John to come out of the shadows, his razor-sharp knife gleaming in the moonlight. She held her breath, frozen with fear as another minute passed and then a third.
"Don't be ridiculous!" Reagan scolded herself. "He's dead. Sterling said . . ." She let her voice trail into nothingness. Lies, he'd told so many lies. Was that one, too?
She jumped out of bed and grabbed a dressing gown off the chair as she went by. Slipping her arms into the robe, she went down the hall, her bare feet slapping quietly on the wooden floor. She had to know the truth. Her nightmares had become too vivid.
Reagan pushed open Sterling's bedchamber door. "Sterling, I have to . . ." Her voice caught in her throat.
Standing in the moonlight was a man. His silhouette was short and ragged. He was leaning over Sterling's sleeping form, a knife clutched in his hand.
Reagan let out a blood-curdling scream. Sterling rose up out of bed, crying out with alarm.
Reagan flung herself at Indian John, pounding him with her fists. "No. " she raged. "Not him, too! You took my papa, but you'll not take him!" She snatched the washbowl off the table and brought it crashing over his head.
Indian John gave a yelp, losing his balance, and fell backward onto the bed.
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