The Beauty and the Spy

by Gayle Callen

  He buried his face in her warm neck and chuckled as he finally toppled her over onto her side. They lay spooned together, breathing hard, and he let himself enjoy the feel of her moist skin touching him everywhere.

  He’d told her tonight that he needed her. Would she assume he meant for more than sex? Why did he know in his gut that his need for her went beyond the physical? He had to prove to himself—and her—that he could not give her the life she wanted.

  Chapter 19

  Fellow spies can be objective, where you cannot.

  The Secret Journals of a Spymaster

  As Nick climbed the wall at the Reed estate and dropped over the side, he felt hollow, exhausted. He wanted to feel nothing but confidence that his mission was almost finished, but all he could think about was Charlotte.

  Their affair had gone well beyond sex and into a mingling of their souls. She hadn’t asked for anything, but in her eyes he saw the softness of a woman falling in love.

  He hadn’t ever wanted to see that again.

  Yet—it did not alarm him as much as it would have with another woman. Because this was Charlotte, brave, beautiful, strong enough to overcome everything that monster of a husband had done to her.

  What would Nick do when he had to leave her?

  He found Sam behind the ruins of a medieval dovecote, with a perfect view of the stables and the back entrance of the manor.

  Nick hunched down beside him, fully expecting Sam to leave. But Sam seemed to study him in the shadowy darkness.

  “What?” Nick finally whispered.

  “I’m just trying to figure you out,” Sam said softly. “You’ve bedded Charlotte, haven’t you?”

  Nick hesitated, but he’d known Sam too long and too well. “Yes. And it’s none of your concern.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  When Sam leaned toward him, Nick was surprised and sat back.

  “I helped you take that girl hostage,” Sam said angrily.

  “She’s not a girl.”

  “Then she’s a young woman, naive about men—”

  “She was married!”

  “And that makes her an expert on men like you?”

  Nick tamped down his cold fury. “What the hell does that mean? She knows more about me than any woman ever has. I told her how things would be between us, but she wants to continue.”

  “As if she had a choice, once you worked your wiles on her.”

  “You make it sound as if I forced her!” Nick took a deep breath, reminded himself to whisper.

  “A seduction of an innocent isn’t far from it. You’ve taken advantage of her. She’s spent every moment with you, and obviously she’s never met someone of your experience and adventure in staid old London. What else was she supposed to do?”

  “Are you trying to say she’d fall into the arms of any man who took her hostage? I hope you don’t think she’s that stupid.”

  Nick kept his anger in line and watched Sam study him. He was not going to feel guilty about what he and Charlotte shared, not when it was so freely offered.

  Sam finally sighed. “I don’t even think you realize what you’re doing.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean!”

  “You…have an effect on women. There’s something about you. I don’t know if it’s your wounded air—”

  “Wounded air!” Nick echoed in quiet outrage.

  “Like I said, you don’t even know you’re doing it. But you’ve been hurt, Nick, and some women want to make it all better. I don’t know if Charlotte’s like that. I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

  “I do,” Nick said firmly. “She had a bad marriage.” He stopped himself before saying anything more.

  “So you’re trying to heal her,” Sam said cynically.

  “Yes—no! Stop trying to figure out what this is between Charlotte and me. Even I don’t know.”

  “That’s what has me worried, Nick. With that attitude you’re going to hurt her.”

  Nick ran his hand tiredly over his face. “I’m trying not to, Sam. I’ve explained everything to her. I can’t stay here and be a husband to her.”

  “You can’t?” Sam asked gently. “Or you won’t?”

  Nick opened his mouth but nothing came out.

  Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “Just think about this and try not to hurt her. I’m going to go over here under those low trees and get some sleep. Wake me when it’s time to leave.”

  Charlotte came awake at dawn, alone in bed, confused about what had awakened her. She heard another quick knock on the door. Wrapping a sheet about herself, she walked to the door and called, “Who is it?”

  “The coachman, ma’am,” called Mr. Cox. “I’ve orders to make sure ye’re awake. Mr. Black’ll be back soon, I expect.”

  “Thank you. Could you send up some toast and tea?”

  She dressed and ate breakfast slowly. She felt lethargic and hollow, and tears threatened to flow.

  She couldn’t do this anymore. She’d told herself that she’d be happy to let Nick have her on his terms. And partially that had been true. She’d loved how cherished he made her feel, how right everything was when she was in his arms. She’d never had that with her husband, and thought that alone would be worth anything.

  But it wasn’t.

  Nick didn’t love her, didn’t want to love her, and it was the latter that hurt the most. She didn’t blame him; he’d made it clear from the beginning that his mission was the most important thing in his life.

  How could she not be grateful that there were men like him to protect their country and keep them all safe?

  But she selfishly wanted him for herself, and she could delude herself no longer. She had to let him go. Better now than later, when she might love him so much more.

  He didn’t trust her even now, and he’d proved that by tying her up again. She kept telling herself these things didn’t matter, that this secret hurt he bore could remain his own private pain. But he didn’t trust her enough to share that either. She sensed it had much to do with the man he’d become, a man who wanted no close personal relationships. He seemed to feel…less a man, because he cared about her the way he did.

  But he’d said he needed her, and inside she’d rejoiced that maybe she could help him somehow. But if it was only going to be a sexual relationship, it would be hurting them both. She couldn’t bear to make him unhappy, not when he’d already taught her so much about herself.

  Minutes later Nick strode in, all purpose and concentration.

  “Are you ready?” he asked as he picked up his portmanteau.

  She held up her own packed bag and tried to smile. “Today is the day?”

  He hesitated and seemed to study her, but she kept up her cheery front. He would be too focused on his mission for her to discuss her decision with him.

  “It should be. It’s easily a day’s ride to Leeds. I’ve sent Sam to guard the rear, and today we’ll lead the way. Sam will let us know if Julia’s going somewhere else. But I don’t think so. She’s down to only one loyal man. She’ll need to get to Hume and make sure he can’t betray her.”

  “Would she truly…kill him?”

  He shrugged as he opened the door and followed her into the hall. “If he’s a threat to her. And he’s holding the proof of treason, so I think she’ll be motivated to stop him.”

  “You won’t let her,” Charlotte said as they walked out into the blue-sky day that promised to be beautiful.

  “I’ll try to stop her,” he said with mock seriousness.

  They rode for several hours in peaceful solitude—or so it must have seemed for Nick, who dozed most of the time. They finally stopped for a midday meal, which he told her they’d be eating on the road in order to stay ahead of Julia.

  When she alighted from the carriage she looked around at the small buildings built around an acre of village green. There were children chasing chickens near a stream, and plenty of adults milled nearby, seeming to be dressed in their best clothe
s. Charlotte was intrigued, but Nick took her arm and firmly steered her inside the two-story tavern.

  She retired to the room set aside for ladies, and when she emerged a few minutes later, Nick was ordering their meal. She stood at his side near the public dining room and watched a dozen couples parade past them, talking and laughing as they headed up the staircase.

  An older man at the end of the line stopped before them. He let go of his wife’s arm and said to her, “Go on up, my dear. I’ll be but a moment.”

  Charlotte could tell from Nick’s stern face that he didn’t want to be disturbed, but she couldn’t help smiling at the gentleman in his plain country clothes and cravat tied in an outdated fashion.

  “Good day, ma’am,” the man said, giving her a short bow. “Good day, sir.”

  Charlotte curtsied, but Nick only nodded. She watched him glance impatiently at the door leading to the kitchen.

  “You are newcomers to our fair village,” the man said.

  “We’re on our way north, sir,” said Nick, using his best clerk attitude, “and my wife thought this a fine place for our meal.”

  “Aye, it is, sir,” said the man, rubbing his hands together. “Today we celebrate the harvest with a village meal. All are invited to the assembly room. You are welcome to join us. Just tell them that Mr. Draper invited you.”

  Nick smiled. “Thank you for the kind invitation, Mr. Draper, but I’ve already ordered our meal, and we’re in a hurry. It wouldn’t do to keep my wife’s mother waiting on us for supper.”

  Mr. Draper raised both hands and nodded. “Of course, of course, we must stay in good graces with family. But if you change your mind, please join us.” He gestured to the stairs, gave them a last bow, and then ascended to the assembly room.

  “That was kind of him,” Charlotte said. She saw Nick’s expression and quickly added, “But of course my mother would be worried sick if we were late. You remember what happened last time.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. Before she could create a memory out of thin air, Mr. Cox stepped through the door, looked about until he spotted them, then rushed forward.

  “Mr. Black,” he said loudly, tugging on his hat brim, “there’s a problem with changin’ the horses.”

  “Perhaps I should speak—”

  “No!” the coachman interrupted. He looked about, then leaned closer and lowered his voice. “She’s here, sir.”

  Charlotte understood his reference, and she clutched Nick’s arm more tightly than necessary. He abruptly turned them about, facing away from the door.

  “Is she passing through the village?” Nick asked softly.

  “No, sir. This bein’ the only tavern, her carriage has stopped here.”

  “She mustn’t see us,” Charlotte said, then winced at her obvious statement. “Did she see you?”

  “No, Mrs. Black. But she’s on her way inside.”

  “If you can avoid being seen,” Nick said, “take the carriage around back to the stable yard. Mrs. Black and I will join the villagers in the assembly room upstairs. Keep watch on Julia, and let me know when it’s safe to leave.”

  After Mr. Cox departed, Charlotte found herself escorted up the staircase by Nick, who wore a grim expression. She knew he was anxious to capture Julia, and this was one more delay he didn’t need.

  When they entered the high-ceilinged assembly room, Mr. Draper and his wife crossed to greet them and began introducing them to other couples and families. Nick remained at her side, holding her arm firmly, his smile as engaging as ever. Though Charlotte noticed his occasional glances at the open doorway, to others he appeared the epitome of the solicitous husband. He fetched her lemonade and held her plate of refreshments. She knew she was the envy of every lady there as Nick watched her with warm eyes and occasionally let his hand linger on her waist. This saddened and distracted her, for she couldn’t help remembering her resolve to end things between them.

  As they answered questions about their life in London, she was shocked to hear Nick using details he’d taken from their marriage conversations. He created a second house in the country for them, where “Mrs. Black” could retire to escape the hectic social calendar of London.

  When he started in about their four children, she couldn’t help thinking, so much for his talk about preventing pregnancies. Deep inside she felt the pain of wanting children, the desolation of knowing that such a glowing life would never happen with Nick. Conversation grew harder as every false emotion took a piece of her soul.

  Then Nick glanced over her head, and though she saw nothing in his pleasant expression, she felt his hand tighten at her waist.

  “Mrs. Black,” he said, taking her drink from her hand and setting it on a nearby table, “as much as you’d like to stay, I am really quite concerned with the time. We can’t keep your mother waiting.”

  Charlotte wanted to look over her shoulder to see what he’d seen, but she knew better. It must be Mr. Cox, come to tell them that Julia was gone.

  The young couple they’d been conversing with understood their haste, and Charlotte followed Nick’s lead as he began their good-byes with several villagers along the wall—the wall closest to the door.

  “Nick?” she whispered, before they reached the next couple.

  “Julia’s here,” he answered between his teeth. “The sociable Mr. Draper found another guest.”

  It was truly awful to keep her back to the enemy. She felt as if her skin itched from being stared at. Nick was surely the tallest in the room, and Julia knew him as intimately as Charlotte did. Though every step they took brought them closer, the door still seemed so far away. She felt as if she was perspiring, but when she looked at Nick, his pleasant expression never wavered. His calm settled over her.

  She could hear Mr. Draper’s voice as he escorted Julia into the crowd behind them. There were only three more people to pass before they reached the door. Charlotte could have sworn she heard Julia laugh as if she was right behind them.

  Then Nick gripped her hand, dragged her behind the last two villagers and down the stairs to freedom.

  They found Mr. Cox in the entrance hall, and he bowed his head and sighed when he saw them. “This way, Mr. Black,” he said, leading them through the tavern and into the dirt yard behind.

  Charlotte practically jumped into the carriage, and Nick fell onto the bench at her side. Silently they swayed as Mr. Cox climbed up into the coachman’s box, then jerked backward as the horses began to trot.

  She covered her face with trembling hands. “That was too close.”

  “But exciting,” Nick said.

  At the laughter in his voice, she frowned at him, and with dismay she watched as his gaze traveled down her bodice.

  He loomed over her, his thigh riding hers. “All this talk of marriage makes me think of the fun part of having a wife.”

  “It’s all just a game to you,” she whispered, holding back her tears of disappointment.

  “Sometimes it has to be,” he said slowly, sitting back, “or I’d never be able to function.”

  “This—this thing between us, it’s not a game to me.” When he would have spoken, she held up a hand, wanting to get everything out in the open. “I know our relationship can be nothing more than it is. I’ve appreciated your candor. I thought it would be acceptable to me…but it’s not.” She bit her lip and sighed heavily.

  “So what are you saying?” he asked slowly, impassively.

  “I can’t lie with you anymore. It hurts too much, because it makes me think there’s a future for us. You don’t want that—”

  “Charlotte—”

  “No, it’s all right. But you must understand that the longer we’re intimate, the more I’ll risk falling in love with you.” It was too late; she already had, but she couldn’t tell him that. She thought of the children he’d just pretended they had, and she wanted to sob.

  He took her hand and she allowed it, trying to pretend that her heart wasn’t breaking. She would have to go
back to that false society life, knowing that there could have been so much more.

  “I never wanted to hurt you,” he murmured, drawing her hand up to kiss it.

  “I know. But it’s happening, so I have to protect myself. I was never able to do so before. You’ve given me the courage for that.”

  “You had it inside you all along.”

  He sat back, and she watched painfully as his expression closed off, distancing himself—protecting himself. He was good at that.

  “I can’t leave to take you to your father’s,” he said.

  Her gaze flew to his in surprise. “I wouldn’t ask that of you! I’m a part of this, and I need to see it through to the end.”

  He nodded. “But you’ll do exactly as I say.”

  “Of course.”

  He turned to look out his window, and she turned to look out hers. She didn’t see the countryside; she was blinking furiously, trying to rid herself of tears. It was over.

  Had there been a hidden, optimistic part of her that thought he’d protest? It only proved she was even more a fool.

  They reached Leeds by the dinner hour, staying ahead of Julia and Sam. Charlotte watched Nick, who must surely feel some satisfaction that Julia was where he wanted her. Nick continued looking out the window, betraying neither worry nor triumph. She wondered if the fact that she’d ended their intimate relationship even bothered him at all.

  Because keeping up a normal front was agony for her. She was already grieving for him. She had had no idea how strong her love for him was, how difficult it was going to be to leave him. Her departure was close now, and she almost thought it would be better not to see him anymore.

  Because now she found herself staring at him when he wouldn’t notice, memorizing the lines of his face, the cocky way he smiled. She watched his hands, so large, so gentle. She would never know their touch again. She so desperately wanted to cry, but now was not the time. Instead she fought the stinging of her eyes and tried to seem interested in Leeds.

  The town was bustling with carriages and wagons, surely the largest town they’d visited since they left London. Factory chimneys belched smoke over medieval churches and poor children begged for pennies, the sad part of civilization. She sat back on the bench with a sigh. The reality of life in a town was terrible for many people.