Catherine’s gaze cut to Sebastian’s former ward, a fresh wave of humiliation burned its way up her neck and into her cheeks. “My apologies, I forgot myself.”
Cora smiled. “Mrs. Fox, please set the tea tray on the table next to Mrs. Ashcroft. She can do the honors.” After the housekeeper withdrew, she nodded toward the tea. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Catherine appreciated the distraction. It would give her something to do with her hands besides worrying a hole in the chair’s upholstery.
“None for me,” Danforth said. “I will raid Somerton’s stash over there.”
Catherine lifted her gaze to Cora. “Sugar?”
“No, thank you,” she said. “A spot of cream only.”
Once they had their respective drinks, Catherine and Cora perched on matching chairs while Danforth kept watch.
“Catherine,” Cora said after a short silence. “Your life in Showbury will be much altered now. Surely, you realize that.”
“I have no doubt the events of the last fortnight will haunt my thoughts for some time,” Catherine said. “But I don’t see how that fact will affect my living here.”
A low groan sounded from the window. “Ladies, I am going to walk the perimeter.” Danforth lanced his sister with a severe look. “Stay put, or I will haunt you—headless and all.”
“You ceased intimidating me when I was twelve, brother,” Cora said. “Save your threats for your elusive cloaked savior.”
His lips thinned. “Can you not do as I ask just this once?”
Cora laughed. “This coming from the King of Rogues? From a man who takes the solitary path more often than not?”
From the thunderous look on the viscount’s face, Catherine thought he might do his sister bodily harm. Instead, he jabbed his finger in the air. “You’re Helsford’s problem now.” Then he stormed from the room.
“Rather lacking, as comebacks go, wouldn’t you say?” Cora asked in an amused voice.
“Should he be left to his own devices?”
“Do not let our sparring upset you,” Cora said. “It’s our way.” She set her teacup down. “Do you love him? Somerton, I mean.”
Catherine could do little more than stare. Like Sebastian, Cora dipped and swayed from one topic to the next, making it impossible to anticipate the woman’s next question.
“You think me too bold?” Cora asked. “I don’t blame you. It is no one’s business but your own.”
“Thank you.”
Cora sent her an admonishing look. “I ask only because I want for Somerton what I have with Guy. As agents, we’ve devoted our lives to this fight against Napoleon, never taking for ourselves. Somerton more so than the rest of us. Until now, I never knew the sacrifice mattered to him.”
Shock jolted her heart into an uncomfortable rhythm. “Surely, you’re not suggesting that Lord Somerton holds any meaningful affection for me.” Then she recalled the fleeting expression that crossed his face when he thought Silas was about to kill him. Catherine swallowed back the lump of joy.
“You are surprised by the notion?”
“I am appalled by the notion.”
That stiffened the younger woman’s back. “I can’t think why you would be.”
Catherine’s unease with their conversation grew with each word uttered. “Did Lord Somerton explain the full nature of our association?”
Intelligence gleamed behind the woman’s sharp gaze as she assessed Catherine’s words, then the sharpness softened into comprehension and, even worse, empathy.
“Believe me, when I tell you,” Cora said, “if there is one man in all of England who would understand your motives, it is Somerton. He might even be more drawn to you because of your warrior instincts.”
“You do not understand. I deceived him in the worst possible way.”
“Did he not deceive you by keeping the manner of your husband’s death to himself?”
Catherine stood. “It’s not the same. I made love to him to obtain a list!”
“Of suspected traitors?”
Catherine turned her burning eyes on her.
“To save your daughter?”
Her breathing became more difficult.
“Do you not think England’s greatest spymaster would do the same in your stead?” Cora rose and moved to stand in front of her. “No need to answer, for I will. He would. That, and a whole lot worse.”
“Our association has been built on suspicion and betrayal,” Catherine said. “A poor beginning.”
“One does not make love to obtain information,” Cora pointed out. “One does something altogether less pleasurable.”
“You sound as if you speak from experience.” Not for the first time, Catherine wondered how the agent came by the scar on her cheek.
“I do.” A shadow crossed Cora’s face. “And that experience tells me the two of you have much more to build on than the awful circumstances that brought you