neck warned Sebastian that he had become the focus of determined feminine attention. He glanced longingly after the other two men.
“Do you love her?” Cora asked in a soft voice.
Having no intention of answering her question—for he didn’t know the answer—he sent her a withering glare, which she ignored.
“If you do,” she said, “don’t lose her to this cause. One lifetime is not enough.”
She would know. Of all his agents, Cora would be most familiar with that particular sentiment. “In case you have forgotten, she is newly widowed and not in a position, nor I doubt inclined, to accept the suit of another man.” He speared the crystal decanters a glance.
“Then wait for her.”
Sebastian set his jaw, irritated with himself for even engaging in this fruitless conversation. “I have not acted the gentleman with her.”
“Start over,” Cora pressed. “Court her as you would any potential wife.”
Wife. The word caressed the rough edges of his soul. “We are too far beyond courtship.”
A charged silence followed his statement, and Sebastian saw the two women share a glance.
“There’s nothing for it then, my lord.” Dinks smacked her thigh and marched over to stand in front of the decanters filled with amber temptation. “You must seduce her. To do that, you’re going to need all your wits.”
“You go too far, Dinks.”
She braced her hands on broad hips. “You can give me the boot after you woo your lady. Until then…” The maid widened her stance, and her gaze became even more defiant.
“Dinks is right.” Cora broke into the pair’s visual duel. “Keep Mrs. Ashcroft in bed until she promises you forever. From the looks she was casting your way today, I would say she’s already halfway—if not entirely—in love with you.”
In an uncharacteristic move, Sebastian tunneled his fingers through his hair. “Even if that were true, Cora, she wouldn’t have me.”
“Why on earth would you say such a thing?”
“Because her marriage with Ashcroft was nothing short of disastrous, and any union with me would be ten times worse. Not only that, anyone associated with me becomes a target, or worse, leverage.” He caught her gaze. “As you well know.”
“Dinks,” Cora said, “would you give us a moment?”
“Certainly.” The lady’s maid sent Sebastian a warning glare before hastening from the room.
“She does understand that I pay her wages, right?” Sebastian asked.
“She’s worried about you. As am I.”
“There’s no need.” He moved to the opposite side of the room from the brandy.
“More than likely, our enemy has already discerned your affection for Mrs. Ashcroft. There is no safer place for her than by your side.”
“Where did you learn to be so ruthless?”
“I was mentored by the very best.”
He sighed. “Let us focus our attention on how we will keep the Ashcroft ladies safe until this is all over, shall we?”
“What will you do?” she asked. “When it’s over?”
“Return to London.”
“And what of Mrs. Ashcroft?”
Her intrusive questions made him think about things he had no wish to think about. Catherine and he had an agreement to end their affaire once he returned to the city. Nothing had changed to alter their plans. Nothing. “I suspect she will continue on as before.” His stomach cramped into a tight ball.
“Have you never considered giving up the Nexus?” she asked.
Every day since returning to Bellamere. “Why would I surrender my only sense of purpose?”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” The words emerged harsh. “I have no other interests, no hobbies or expensive peccadillos. I live, eat, breathe, sleep this fight against Napoleon’s domination. Someone with my specialized talents is of little use anywhere else.”
“I disagree, sir,” Cora said, rising. “For I have always known you were meant to be more than a mentor or guardian or even a chief of the Nexus.” She gazed upon him with gentle, loving eyes. “You were meant to be a father and a husband.”
Twenty-two
Catherine rubbed the growing ache in her stomach. It was stronger now, verging on nausea. At first, she thought the unpleasant sensation was nothing more than nerves. After all, a country mother could only handle so much deceit, death, and threat before falling victim to such feminine frailty. But she was not experiencing a bout of anxiety. No, these symptoms were darker, graver. They bespoke foreboding and danger. Death. The warning flashed through her mind, sharp and clear.
She buried her nose in the thin layer of linen covering Sebastian’s chest and inhaled. His familiar scent, his silent strength, and his willingness to just hold her for the last hour had done