Bound to a Spy

by Sharon Cullen

  She started walking and Will followed. When they were out of sight of the house he was surprised to feel Rose’s hand in his. They twined their fingers together, and she led him to a rocky stream, the clear water bubbling around the sharp rocks. Ice formed at the edges but it was not a cold day. The sun was warm and the breeze chilled, but not cold. Spring seemed to be in the air even if it was December.

  She led him to a large boulder and he followed as she clambered up it and sat with her knees pulled to her chin and her skirts tucked tightly beneath her.

  Will remained quiet, knowing she needed this time to think. So much had happened to her in the last few days but in truth her life had been turned upside down when her mother had forced her to go to Holyrood.

  “I feel like they are trying to get rid of me,” she said softly, her eyes glued to the stream.

  “They’re worried about you,” Will said. “Your father is right. If the queen realizes you are alive she will come for you. If not her, then Moray or Maitland. Did I tell you that I figured out who the other conspirator is?”

  She shook her head.

  “Bothwell.”

  Her head jerked around and she looked at him with wide eyes, the enormity of that sinking in.

  “He is not an enemy you want,” Will said. “If he finds out that you are still in Scotland he will come in search of you. Right now he is in charge of making the borders secure and finding a balance with the border clans. But if he wants to make your family’s life hell he can do it.”

  Rose looked back at the stream. “I know nothing about England. I have no desire to live in England. I know no one there.”

  “You know me,” Will ventured, his breath held.

  She turned her head so she could look at him and rested her good cheek on her knees. “You don’t want me in England with you. You like being alone. You told me so. You’ll take me to England and leave me there.”

  Will took a deep breath and let it out slowly, knowing the time for truth was now. “There is something I’ve never told you about me, Rose. Something important.” He paused to gather his thoughts and search for his words. He’d never told anyone this. For the entirety of his career he’d played his part in whatever mission he was on and walked away when he was finished. He’d never revealed to anyone outside of Elizabeth’s ring of spies who he was and what he did. Except for Thom, of course. What was it with this family that inspired confidences and truths?

  “You’re married,” she said, her voice flat.

  “What?” He barked out a laugh. “No. Of course not.”

  Her shoulders seemed to droop and she ventured a small smile. “Then nothing can be that bad.”

  “I’m a spy for England. I work for Queen Elizabeth, and I was sent to Holyrood to spy on Mary.” He said it quickly, getting it out as fast as he could.

  For a long moment she simply stared at him, and then slowly she raised her head. “You’re not an old friend of Darnley’s?”

  He was surprised that was her first question. “It is true that I went to school with Darnley. Elizabeth used that connection to send me to Holyrood. It worked well.”

  “I could never figure out why you kept with the friendship when it was obvious to me that you didn’t like him much,” she said. “Now I know.”

  “You don’t seem shocked.”

  “I think I am but I need to process it.”

  He let her do just that while he contemplated the stream and felt the tension slip away from him. It was nice, someone else knowing his secrets. Tristan knew and LaGrange and Simon, but he never spent much time with them because of the danger involved. It seemed right that Rose knew.

  She stretched out her legs in front of her and wiggled her toes in her worn boots.

  “The night we listened to Lysle and Maitland and the others in their secret room, you had known for a while about the conspiracy?”

  “I had heard things and I knew who the major conspirators were. It was a matter of following them, finding where they were meeting and listening.”

  “And then I came along and ruined things,” she said flatly.

  He so desperately wanted to touch her, to reassure her, to reassure himself, but he stayed his hand and draped his arm atop an upraised knee.

  “You complicated things, but didn’t ruin them.”

  “I was a complication?”

  “I knew that you could be in danger. And I knew I had to protect you as best I could. It wasn’t your fault what you overheard but I felt an obligation to watch over you.”

  “So you wanted to protect me?”

  “Yes.”

  “That must have seemed like a burden.”

  “An obligation, but then I got to know you and it wasn’t an obligation at all but a pleasure.”

  She studied him, her brows drawn together. “What about…I mean…” Her face turned a vicious shade of pink and she looked down at the boulder, unable to meet his gaze. “What we did?” she whispered as if someone could overhear them.

  Will bit back his smile. “What we did was a personal decision between us. It had nothing to do with my mission.” He hesitated to say what he really wanted to say but plunged ahead anyway. “I spoke to a friend of mine, another…person like me. He said to walk away from you, that there are always casualties in a situation like this. But I couldn’t do it. You meant too much to me, even then.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him as if she could read his mind. “Truly?”

  “Truly.”

  “This friend of yours. That wasn’t very nice to say but I understand. Your country must come first.”

  “Usually. But this time I couldn’t put England first. You were an innocent and that didn’t seem right.” Maybe he was losing his edge. Maybe it was time to retire and live a life of ease. The thought frightened him, but at the same time appealed to him.

  “Well, I thank you,” she said softly.

  The sun was behind her, setting her hair aflame. She looked ethereal, like an angel, and he couldn’t stop staring at her.

  She entranced him and he was glad he’d ignored Tristan’s advice, and decided to protect her.

  Acting on impulse he leaned forward and kissed her, a light kiss upon the lips. Nothing forceful because he knew she was feeling vulnerable and she was hurt. He didn’t know where else Lysle had hurt her so he was careful.

  She smiled and leaned forward, taking his face between her hands and kissing him much harder than he’d kissed her. He’d taught her a lot sexually but she also taught him a lot too and he couldn’t imagine kissing anyone else again.

  When they pulled apart she giggled.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I know no other way to express my gratitude. You didn’t have to take me under your wing at the palace, and you certainly didn’t have to go chasing after me when Lysle took me. I’m glad you did though.”

  “Even though you now have to leave Scotland?”

  Her smile faded and she turned to look at the stream. “I haven’t decided about that.”

  Will only saw one choice but he was going to let her make the decision. It was her life, and she would have to live with the consequences.

  “Is that why you said you would never marry?” she asked. “Because you’re a spy?”

  “My life does not lend itself to having a wife or a family.”

  “Nonsense.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “Pardon me?”

  “I don’t know much about being a spy,” she said. “But you’re using that excuse to never marry because your family life was so horrible.”

  “It was not horrible—”

  “It was horrible. Your parents were horrible for leaving you like that. You don’t want a wife because you don’t know how to be a husband.”

  “I don’t want a wife because it would impede my career.” But he didn’t sound convincing even to himself. He always thought being a spy leant itself to his personality. He preferred being alone. He liked it
. He could move on when he wanted, stay if he wanted. He could take assignments sporadically or back to back. He had no one to impede him. No one to question him except his superiors.

  It had been a wonderful life. Or so he’d thought.

  She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. “I’m not going to England with you.”

  He pushed the disappointment away and thought logically. He was good at thinking logically and methodically, and if he ever needed that talent it was now.

  “I can keep you safe there.”

  “How?” she asked, her tone defiant, her chin lifted. “How can you keep me any safer there than my family can here?”

  “Your family won’t be punished by Bothwell because they won’t know where you are. You can’t be hunted in England. Mary would never come after you there because she wants to stay in Elizabeth’s good graces. The batty woman still thinks she can have the English crown as well as the Scottish crown.”

  “And what will you do with me? Keep me at your estate like your parents did to you? I don’t think so. Or were you planning on putting me up somewhere and forgetting about me? Were you planning to take me over the border and leave me?”

  He could hear the real fear in her voice. Scotland was her life. It was in her blood. It was all she knew, and she was terrified to leave it even though she knew that staying would put her family in jeopardy.

  “Marry me,” he said, surprising them both. But once he said it he knew it was what he wanted. It was what he dreamed of when he allowed himself to think about the one thing he truly wanted in life. But he’d convinced himself that he could never have marriage to anyone, let alone Rose.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “Rose, will you be my wife?” he asked.

  Her face was a mixture of shock and hope.

  “Please tell me you’re not jesting,” she whispered. “Please tell me this is what you truly want and you’re not doing this just so I’ll go to England for my safety. Because I will not go and be ignored by you, Will Sheffield.”

  “I’m not jesting. I truly want this. And I could never ignore you. I love you, Rose. I’ve known for a long time that I’ve loved you but I wouldn’t let myself acknowledge that love. When I discovered you had disappeared I thought it was because you regretted making love to me, and I felt so bereft, so much more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life. I realized then that I could never willingly walk away from you. I love you, Rose Turner.”

  “Oh, Will.” She blinked her tears away. “What will Queen Elizabeth say?”

  “I don’t care what Queen Elizabeth says.”

  “You will give it all away for me?” she whispered.

  “I’m giving nothing away. I’m walking away from it for you. For us. For the children we might someday have. I don’t know how to be a husband and I surely don’t know how to be a father. Will you teach me, Rose?”

  Will held his breath, refusing to believe that he’d come this far, revealed this much, to lose her now.

  “We’ll teach each other,” she said. “And we’ll learn together.”

  He blew out his breath and smiled. “I have money. And a home. And a title.”

  She shook her head, laughing. “Don’t you know that none of that matters to me?”

  “I have stables and I’ll find you all kinds of animals to take care of and you can roam the countryside whenever you wish and you’ll never have to do your hair in those fancy styles again or stitch tedious scenes on fabric.”

  She kissed him, quick and light. “Now that’s the way to my heart. Yes, I will marry you, Will Sheffield.”

  They laughed and they kissed, sitting there on a rock in the middle of a Scottish stream with the sun beating down on them. And Will knew with certainty that with Rose at his side that he would never be lonely or alone again. He could learn to love and she would teach him to be the best husband ever.

  For John, Megan, Nic and Abby

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people who work tirelessly behind the scenes to get a book from me to you. It’s astounding that the words that come out of my head, through my fingers and into a Word document will become a beautiful finished product. And all of the books in the All the Queen’s Spies series are so, so beautiful. I want to thank everyone who put their fingerprint on this book—from my agent to my editor and fine-line editor, to the graphic designers and everyone else. I am sure there are more that I’m not even aware of. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart and the tips of my work-worn fingers.

  BY SHARON CULLEN

  All the Queen’s Spies

  Wed to a Spy

  Bound to a Spy

  Lost to a Spy

  Secrets and Seduction

  The Notorious Lady Anne

  Loving the Earl

  Pleasing the Pirate

  Sebastian’s Lady Spy

  Highland Pride

  Sutherland’s Secret

  MacLean’s Passion

  Campbell’s Redemption

  Other Books

  His Saving Grace

  The Reluctant Duchess

  PHOTO: PAM JONES PHOTOGRAPHY

  SHARON CULLEN is the USA Today bestselling author of the All the Queen’s Spies series and the Highland Pride series (Sutherland’s Secret, MacLean’s Passion, Campbell’s Redemption) as well as many novels of Regency romance, romantic suspense, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance. If you’d like to find out more about the author and her books, you can visit her blog or her website. She is addicted to social networking, so you can find her on Facebook and Twitter. Friend her! Like her! Follow her! She’d love to hang out with you and talk about her passion: books.

  sharoncullen.net

  Facebook.com/​SharonCullenAuthor

  Twitter: @SharonCullen

  If you enjoyed Bound to a Spy, read on for an excerpt from

  Lost to a Spy

  the next scintillating novel in Sharon Cullen’s All the Queen’s Spies series

  Available from Loveswept

  Chapter 1

  EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND

  FEBRUARY 10, 1567

  She should have taken Whickingham’s offer of a carriage ride home. But, no, she’d insisted she could walk to Holyrood palace.

  Sometimes her stubbornness was not a pleasing trait. Tonight was one of those instances.

  It was dark.

  And cold.

  Very cold.

  And her trailing lady’s maid was sullen and silently condemning. Maybe the issue was not that she was walking home, but that she had to listen to the incessant sighs and dagger looks to the back from Gelis.

  “It’s just another ten minutes,” Emma said over her shoulder.

  Gelis bent her head and trudged onward, pretending to limp when Emma knew there was nothing wrong with the girl’s leg.

  If she’d just taken the carriage she’d be in her chambers at the palace now, her feet up on a stool, the heat from a roaring fire warming her.

  She buried her hands further into her sleeves and tipped her chin down into her cloak. The wind stung her eyes and the occasional snowflake pricked her cheeks.

  “See? We’re passing Kirk o Field now.” She said the words begrudgingly. She didn’t want to release her chin from her warm cloak and she didn’t much care to reassure Gelis that they were, indeed, almost home.

  Emma breathed a sigh of relief as they passed Kirk o Field. She could see Holyrood palace in the distance and she could practically feel the warmth of the fire now. A good mulled wine would be nice to warm her innards as well.

  “Walking is invigorating,” she told Mr. Whikersham when he’d offered his carriage. “Besides, I need the exercise.”

  She rolled her eyes at herself and glanced behind her to see if Gelis was still following when she caught movement behind the girl.

  About a half a dozen or so men were running in their direction. Quickly Emma stepped to the side, pulling Gelis along by her arm. Gelis yelped and stumbled up next to Emma, but b
efore they reached the girls the men veered off into the Kirk o Field orchard.

  Curious, Emma watched them go. It was late in the evening. Most people with a lick of common sense were in their homes, in front of their fires or getting ready for bed. Emma and Gelis had not passed anyone at all in the few blocks they’d walked from the Whickershams’ at the other end of High Street. Where had those men suddenly come from?

  Odd.

  “Come, Gelis,” she said. “We must hurry.”

  Gelis snorted. “I been telling you that the whole time. Somethin’ ain’t right. I got a feeling in my bones.”

  Emma discarded Gelis’s bones and continued on, but her mind was on those men. It appeared that they had been carrying weapons but it was dark and she couldn’t be positive.

  Emma walked faster.

  They were passing the other end of the orchard when Emma heard a noise that gave her pause. She looked to her left, into the orchard, and saw those men again. A few were bent over, touching something on the ground. Emma stopped, even though her mind was telling her to run, and peered closely into the darkness.

  Was that a body they were bent over?

  She couldn’t be certain but she had to be wrong. Why in the world would there be a body lying in the middle of the orchard on this cold night? Unless some poor, hapless being expired there on the spot. What a terrible way to go. All alone, in the middle of a field, on a cold, dark night.

  She heard someone yell out, but could not make out the words. A person leaned over the body, placed his hands on it. The legs of the person lying on the ground flailed. The arms jerked.

  Beside her Gelis was muttering and looking longingly at the palace. Did she not see what was happening?

  And what exactly was happening?

  It almost appeared as if whoever was standing over the body, reaching down, was attempting to strangle the one on the ground.