from the carriage and then turned to give her a knowing smile. “For us both, of course.” He shut the door but held her gaze as he accepted the reins of his horse. “Adieu, Mrs. Ashcroft.”
The carriage jerked forward, jostling Catherine as it regained a more even rhythm. She hardly noticed. Her mind spun so fast it felt like the large terrestrial globe that used to take up a good deal of space in her father’s study.
Around and around, her thoughts revolved, but they failed to land on anything that would help her understand the events of the last few days. What she’d hoped would be a sleuth-like bid for justice had manifested into an immersion of spies and intrigue.
One thing was for certain, though. Her rather mundane country existence was about to become a good deal more interesting.
Two
August 10
Sebastian’s chest rose high upon seeing the gray stone walls of his childhood home. Unlike him, Bellamere Park, with its clusters of square chimneys and expansive gardens, had changed little in the four years he had been away.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled the earthy scent of newly shorn grass and crisp air, never realizing until that moment how much he had missed spending time in the country, where a man concerned himself with putting food on his table, rather than preventing the next attempt on his life.
The last few months had challenged his intellect, his endurance, and his long-held beliefs on a level that frightened even him, a man jaded by intrigue and ruthless when it came to the pursuit of his objectives. Never before had he wondered if all his sacrifices, and those of his men, had been worth the price.
Not until recently.
Sebastian tried to hold on to the unusual tranquility pouring over him, but he was unsurprised when it dissipated into the biting afternoon breeze. Shrugging off his disappointment, he opened his eyes and kicked Reaper into a trot for the final quarter mile of their journey.
As he descended the low rise, he glanced to the east, toward the Ashcroft estate, and felt a sense of foreboding. Dealing with death, in all its many forms, had become part of his life. Although he could still experience remorse, pity, and sympathy, he never allowed himself to linger in the emotions for long. He could not afford to.
But the Ashcroft situation was different, more complex. More gray than black or white. His duty, first and foremost, was to England, to the security of its borders, and to the safety of its people. The needs of one woman and one little girl were secondary. They could not factor into his actions. He released a steadying breath. Not at all.
Reaper tossed his big black head and broke into a gallop. The powerful thrust forward pulled Sebastian out of his ruminations, and he tightened his grip on the reins again and loosened his thighs. His mount obeyed instantly and slowed his gait back into a trot.
He could wring Jeffrey Ashcroft’s neck for sending those letters to his wife rather than to him. He understood his caution, and the agent’s plan had been ingenious. Who would ever suspect a man of sending his wife coded messages intended for another? Ashcroft had known his wife well. Had known it was only a matter of time before she brought the letters, dotted with Sebastian’s title, to him.
The too-intelligent fool’s only mistake had been in not keeping abreast of his wife’s activities, or he would have realized she wasn’t at Winter’s Hollow to receive his correspondence. The delay had likely cost the young agent his life. Another secret to keep.
But as Jeffrey had known she would, his Catherine had traveled to London with the damned letters, and Sebastian had been forced to pretend nothing was amiss. It was a role he had played a hundred times before, though this time proved more difficult.
Every instant she turned those big brown eyes on him, he had come close to telling her everything. She had always had a disturbing effect on his control. When her husband was alive, he had found the wherewithal to fight her pull. Now that Ashcroft was dead, no more physical obstacles stood in his way. Only a ghost.
Sebastian shoved aside his pointless musings and halted Reaper outside of Bellamere’s wide double doors. An instant later, a liveried footman emerged to hold his master’s exhausted mount. After several hours in the saddle, Sebastian’s endurance had also waned. He wished now that he had sent word ahead to