The Way to a Spy’s Heart: A Steamy Victorian Historical Spy Series (Romancing Intrigue Book 1)

by Laura Shipley

  Phillip dodged a punch and dipped to the side. He took a swing and landed the blow into his adversary’s stomach, causing him to double over and curse. The man spoke in Russian. So, his earlier suspicions had been correct, they were being followed. The Russian just recovered from the hit when the horses made the sharp right turn. The carriage swung wide, and at the same time, Phillip charged his opponent with enough strength to push him off the coach.

  That done, Phillip had to get them to safety. The driver was dead, and the reins had slipped off. There was no way to stop the carriage. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw another horseman approach. Phillip wasn’t sure how much more the carriage could take. He withdrew his knife and threw it at the Russian. The knife hit its target, but not before the Russian got a shot off with his pistol.

  A stinging sensation pierced the side of Phillip’s abdomen. The bullet had grazed him, but that didn’t stop him. Acting quickly, Phillip mounted the horse, which was their only means of escape. He reined in the horse to line up with the door of the carriage.

  “Charlotte,” he called out.

  She popped her head out, relief clear on her face. Phillip let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. After hearing gunshots in the carriage, he had feared something might have happened to Charlotte. A glance over his shoulder showed the remaining riders gaining on them. Phillip put his hand out to her.

  “Jump, it’s the only way. We have to try and outrun them.” Phillip saw the uncertainty on Charlotte’s face. She glanced back at their pursuers, then turned back to him. With her jaw set in determination, she took a step back and leaped onto the horse, landing on her stomach.

  As soon as Phillip had her, he spurred the horse into action. They shot off through the forest at a breakneck speed. Their only hope was to lose the Russians in the woods. Phillip wasn’t familiar with the area, but he would worry about that later. For now, they needed to escape.

  Phillip rode with a firm hold on Charlotte. He knew she would be sore from the odd position, but he couldn’t stop. They continued another mile before Phillip checked to see if the Russians had followed them. He could still make out their silhouettes in the distance, but stopped quickly to seat Charlotte in front of him. “We have to keep moving,” Phillip said and urged the horse into action.

  It felt like forever, but only an hour had passed when Phillip next checked on their pursuers progress. They were barely visible beyond the trees. He stopped the horse and dismounted, pulling Charlotte off as well. After seeing Charlotte over to a fallen log to rest, he slapped the horse on the rump, sending it off into the woods.

  Charlotte panicked, “What are you doing? We need the horse to escape.”

  “What we need is a distraction. We are far enough away that they can’t see us. I’m sending the horse off in one direction, and we will go in the other. We need to head west.”

  “Do you know where we are?”

  Phillip shook his head. “We will come upon someone eventually, but we need to move. Are you up to walking?”

  “Yes, I want to keep moving. What if they catch us, Phillip?”

  He heard the fear creep into Charlotte’s voice. She was becoming hysterical; the shock was setting in. Not knowing what else to do, he placed his hands on either side of her face, forcing her to look at him.

  “Listen to me, Charlotte. This will work. I’ve done it before. You must trust me. You are doing well, but you must be strong for a little while longer. We must run as fast as we can. Can you do that?”

  Charlotte nodded. Her eyes were clear, and her breath, which was ragged a moment ago had evened out. The woman was stronger than she knew, and he was proud of her in that instant. He laid a quick kiss on her lips.

  Phillip grabbed Charlotte’s hand, and they ran hard. After thirty minutes, he stopped and listened. There were no sounds of horses. Not wanting to take any chances, they continued to run a fair distance before they let up. Charlotte was gasping for air when they stopped again. Phillip surveyed their surroundings. He didn’t see or hear anything to make him think the Russians had followed them.

  They rested to regain their strength. Phillip wasn’t sure how long they would have to be on the move until they found somewhere safe. They still had a few hours of light left. Hopefully, it would be enough time to ensure their escape. Phillip sat on a rock to give his legs a break and felt a burning pain on the side of his torso. In all the chaos, he had forgotten about being shot. He removed his jacket and saw that blood had seeped through his shirt.

  Charlotte cried out, “Did you get shot?”

  “It’s fine,” he assured her. “It’s a minor wound. I will be fine.”

  Charlotte bent over and grabbed the edge of her skirt. It puzzled Phillip until he heard the rip of fabric and she stood up with a strip of her skirt in her hand. “Unbutton your shirt,” she demanded.

  Phillip did as he was told. Charlotte wrapped the fabric around his torso. When she tightened the knot, he winced in pain. The dressing would slow the bleeding for a little while, but they would have to get a proper dressing soon.

  Satisfied with her work, Charlotte nodded, “That will do for now.”

  Phillip buttoned his shirt and shrugged on his jacket. Again, he surveyed their surroundings. He didn’t want to be stranded outside after dark. Not just for Charlotte’s safety, but who knew what lurked around at night. He looked at Charlotte and realized he had underestimated her. She was as stubborn as hell, but he knew that already. She was also soft, as evidenced by the way she felt in his arms. Now he could add resilient to her growing list of attributes.

  Charlotte could have given in to hysteria, and crumbled under the fear making it difficult for them to escape. Instead, she had pulled herself together and did what was necessary. On top of it, she had helped with his wound when she didn’t have to do so. The lady continued to surprise him.

  For now, Phillip’s main concern was finding food and shelter for the night. “Come on. We had better get moving. We don’t know how far we have to go.”

  Charlotte followed, and they hiked through the woods.

  After a long stretch of silence, Charlotte spoke, “They know who we are.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “One of the men came into the coach and said they would see what I had to say.”

  It’s what Phillip had hoped to avoid. Somehow the Russians had found out about them. He worried that the remainder of the group would follow or get reinforcements. They had to get as much distance between them as possible while avoiding the main roads. It would be impossible to know who was friend and who was foe. He didn’t know anyone in the area and prayed that the first people they came upon would be sympathizers for their side.

  They walked for two hours before taking a short rest again. Phillip knew he was pushing Charlotte hard, but she didn’t complain. At times she fell behind but would catch up. Not once did she question where they were going or how much longer it would take. He wondered if she trusted him or only followed him because there was no alternative.

  Phillip wanted her trust. Hell, he wanted more than that. Those kisses, although short, had set something off inside him that continued to smolder. He tried his best to suppress lustful thoughts of Charlotte, but it was difficult. Even with all the stress they were under, her cool head and perseverance made her irresistible to him.

  In the past, a pretty face and a few compliments had easily persuaded Phillip. As he got older, he had wanted a woman with substance, which he thought he had found in Lisette. Her intelligence and professed affection had fooled him. Love had blinded him to her conniving and ruthless ways. He didn’t realize she would sell her soul to the highest bidder. She justified her actions as patriotism, but whatever she called it, it had cost him two months of his life. Phillip had learned his lesson. No matter how much he wanted Charlotte, he couldn’t let her in.

  They continued to trek through the rocky, uneven terrain. Charlotte stumbled on occasion, hindered by her sk
irts, but took everything in stride with a stiff upper lip. Evening approached, and Phillip watched the sun make its slow descent past the horizon. If they didn’t find a place to take shelter soon, they would be out in the elements all night.

  Behind him, Phillip heard a grunt of frustration. He turned to see Charlotte make her way over a boulder. He went over and offered her his hand. When she accepted, he hoisted her up. The momentum threw her against him and into his arms. Charlotte’s face glistened with perspiration, and she was out of breath. In Phillip’s eyes, she still looked beautiful. Some of her raven-colored hair fell out of hat, making her all the more alluring.

  Charlotte laid her head against Phillip’s chest, catching her breath. He heard her whimper. He put two fingers under her chin and lifted her head. Unshed tears threatened to escape. She had reached her breaking point, and it broke his heart. Phillip wrapped his arms around her in comfort, and she returned the embrace. He had to find shelter for the night. Glancing around he noticed they were headed toward a hill. Perhaps, they would have a better viewpoint at the top.

  “If we make it to the top of the hill, we may be able to see if there are any lights from houses. Can you make it?” Phillip encouraged her with a smile. Without a word, she allowed him to lead her onward.

  It took another half hour until they crested the hill. Charlotte sat on a nearby boulder while Phillip studied the area. He scanned the surrounding woods and noticed a small clump of lights, due west, which appeared to be a village. Hopefully, there would be an inn or someplace for them to seek shelter. He took Charlotte’s hand, and they made their way toward the inhabitants.

  The last rays of the sun faded as they came to the outskirts of the small town. Phillip was pleasantly surprised that it was larger than he expected. As they entered the village, he made inquiries, and they were led to the village’s only inn. They entered and were met with a dozen curious stares. He could only imagine how they must look as they stood there, covered in dirt with their clothes ripped. Luckily, his jacket hid his blood-stained shirt. Phillip asked the innkeeper for a room. He explained that thieves had robbed them of their luggage, and they needed a place to stay for the night. All they wanted was a warm bed, a hot meal, and some warm water to wash up. Phillip paid the man, and he led them to their room.

  Charlotte sunk into a chair by the hearth. Phillip’s plan was to procure horses for the next day. They would have to keep to the back roads and woods in case the Russians were still looking for them. There was a knock at the door, and a maid came in with fresh, warm water and towels. She promised to return shortly with their supper. They washed up for dinner and waited in silence until the maid returned with their food.

  Phillip placed a table between two chairs, and they ate their supper. He wanted to give Charlotte some time to compose herself, but he also wanted to know what had happened in the carriage. Earlier she had mentioned one of the Russians had been inside the coach and had spoken to her. He needed to know all that was said and all that had happened. In his line of work, any detail could be important.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  Charlotte nodded her head, finishing her bite of chicken. “Yes, I’m tougher than I look. Thankfully, I have always enjoyed a good walk. Although, today was certainly more than I had bargained for.”

  “I’m sorry for what happened.”

  “It’s not your fault. You warned me it could be dangerous. But you also promised to keep me safe, and I trust you. So far, you have kept your promise.”

  Of course, she would say that. He was the only thing between her and capture or worse. Phillip was sure she didn’t trust him any further than that, and why should she. Circumstances had thrust them upon each other for this mission, and that was all. After this, they would never see each other again. The thought of not seeing Charlotte again bothered him. He was attracted to her, and he wanted more. She had an inner strength and fortitude, which he saw in himself. Charlotte had alluded to personal hurt in the past. Perhaps she was as afraid of losing her heart again as he was.

  Lost in his thoughts, Phillip didn’t hear Charlotte until she repeated herself. “I should see to that wound properly and redress it. You need not catch a fever or worse. Take off your shirt.”

  Phillip hesitated a moment before complying, afraid she would see his back. He positioned himself so she would not need to walk behind him. The bastards who had jailed him had given him a permanent reminder of his folly for trusting Lisette. No need for Charlotte to see the freakish map of scars on his back. He couldn’t bear to see the pity in her eyes. She would treat him differently, and he didn’t want that.

  Phillip would distract her with conversation. “What happened in the carriage?”

  Charlotte stopped what she was doing and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “I heard gunshot after I left to go to the coachman.”

  “I told you I knew how to fire a gun. I hit one horseman, but I don’t know if I killed him.”

  So, Charlotte had hit her mark. She hadn’t lied when she said she could fire a gun. “Then there must have been a second rider in the carriage. You said he spoke to you.” He inquired.

  Charlotte removed the original dressing and turned to wet a cloth before answering, “He got into the carriage and said a few words. He tried to subdue me, but I saw my chance and took it. I grabbed his gun. Luckily, it was loaded, and I shot him. He fell out of the carriage.”

  Phillip fell silent, picturing the scene. He closed his eyes and sighed, “I’m sorry you had to do that.”

  “It was necessary. Otherwise, the Russian would have done worse to me. I don’t feel bad about what I did. My life depended on it. When my brother taught me to shoot in self-defense, he said I needed to be prepared for the consequences. He said I needed to know if I could live knowing I had taken another person’s life. I did not think much about it at the time. I figured, what were the odds of that ever happening? Now that it has, I feel no remorse. Does that make me a bad person?” She asked with a frown.

  He knew how she felt. The first time he had taken a life, it had taken awhile to realize it had been necessary. After all these years, it had become second nature to him. He had forgotten how difficult it could be, especially for a woman.

  Phillip smiled at her, “No, you are not a bad person Charlotte. You did what you had to do to survive. Remember that.”

  Charlotte smiled and appeared settled as she cleaned Phillip’s wound. He winced when she rubbed the area, trying to clean it the best she could. She turned and lifted her skirt again, and he heard the familiar rip of fabric. He should have asked the maid for some bandages, but it would have raised more questions. At this rate, she wouldn’t have any undergarments left — another image he had to get out of his head.

  Charlotte rewrapped Phillip’s wound. The silence was comforting. It had been just the two of them for the last several days. It was the new normal for him, and it was pleasant. She ripped the end of the cloth and made a knot. Suddenly, she gasped. Phillip didn’t realize she had gone behind him to tie the ends. Now she would see the deformed monster he truly was.

  Chapter 6

  Charlotte was so intent on tying the end of the bandage she had noticed nothing else. When she finished, only then did she see Phillip’s back. It shocked her to see jagged lines that marked his entire back. She couldn’t imagine what Phillip had endured. The lines crisscrossed his back in multiple directions. The scars were flesh-colored, which suggested they were not fresh. Without thinking, she put her hand out and touched his back, tracing the line of one scar to its end.

  Who would have done such a thing? Impulsively, she leaned over and placed a kiss in the middle of his back. Phillip tried to pull away, but she wrapped her arms around his torso and laid her head on his back. The heat from his skin permeated her core.

  They stayed that way for some time before Phillip placed his hand over hers. Charlotte wanted to cry, not for what she saw, but for the pain he must have endured. Over the
last few days, she had found it increasingly difficult to stop the attraction she felt for Phillip. Even with all that was going on, in the middle of their dangerous journey, she dreamt every night of the man who slept next to her.

  Now, instead of being frightened or disgusted, she was more fascinated than ever by this man. But had she not promised herself to never allow another man to fool her into believing he loved her? What did Phillip have to gain by pretending to be attracted to her, she asked herself. There was no reason for him to pretend, unless it was part of a plan to gain her trust during their journey. Was seduction part of his arsenal of tricks as a spy, she wondered.

  He had kissed her twice and seemed to enjoy it. Charlotte knew men wanted two things from a woman, their money, and their bodies. She wondered if Phillip was interested in her body. She shouldn’t care, but she did. Her mind searched for answers to her questions, but she found now. The man continued to baffle her.

  Even though Phillip was sometimes aloof, there were instances when he showed a tender side. Charlotte questioned whether he had feelings for her or if she was imagining things. Perhaps she had created a fantasy to get her through this ordeal. He probably only cared about protecting her so she could relay her information to the proper authorities. She was merely an assignment to him, and once he was finished, he would move on to the next mission.

  The idea saddened Charlotte, she wanted to know more about Phillip, but she knew she had no right to question him. For now, she would enjoy the contact she had with him. As she embraced him, she felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Her left hand rested near his heart, and it beat against her palm; strong and true. She would cherish this moment forever.

  Phillip took her hand and brushed it against his lips. He did it with her other hand, as well, and then placed them back on his chest, her fingers entwined with his own. Charlotte’s pulse raced, and she ached for more.