horse himself with the efficiency of a cavalryman. A few minutes later he rode out into the street, looking in each direction for Kate. But she was nowhere to be seen, not down any street he passed riding through Bath, nor down any street he passed on the way home. He hoped she hadn’t gone too far, but it was a nice day, excellent walking weather. She could be on top of Beechen Cliff for all he knew; she’d told him all about her walks there with Cora Fitzwilliam. He had to see her before he left. If nothing else, he had to tell her her letter had borne fruit. He tied the horse in front of the house in Queen Square as Carter trotted up.
“Bragg sent word you needed me,” he called, touching his hat brim.
Gerard nodded, still glancing about for his wife. “It may turn out to be a blind end, but I would be very glad of your company.”
Carter laughed. “Well, the army’s left me well practiced at chasing down blind ends. I am at your disposal.”
“Thank you, Carter.” A flash of blue caught his eye. There—there she was, at the end of the street. He turned to go to her as Bragg came out to join them, leading his own horse and lugging bulging saddlebags for Gerard’s horse over one shoulder.
“Captain, ’tis an hour,” his man called.
Gerard just waved irately at him and continued on his way, eating up the distance with long strides. She saw him coming and her own steps slowed—a bad omen if ever he saw one. He muttered a curse, then almost stopped dead in his tracks as his mind blanked. What would he say to her? He felt stunned anew at her admission—she loved him! It was still soaking into his brain. The usual reply to such a declaration of course was a like one, but those words wouldn’t come. What did that mean? Hard on the heels of that question followed shame that he had coerced the admission from her, and in such a manner. What sort of man used desire and passion against his wife? He didn’t deserve her love even if she still felt any for him.
By the time they finally met, each was moving so slowly it seemed time had paused. Gerard stared at her pale, composed face and felt like a tongue-tied boy.
“Did your visitor provide any help?” she asked. Aside from the shadows in her eyes, there was no sign she was uneasy or upset. He wished she would show some emotion, any emotion. He would feel much better if she screamed at him, or even cried.
“Perhaps.” Now he not only didn’t know what to say, he was acutely conscious of the public nature of this conversation. Wasn’t Lady Darby’s house the one behind him? And another gossipy old lady no doubt lived in the one before him. God help either lady if she was listening at her window now. “He believes he can, that is.”
Kate nodded calmly, as if they spoke of the weather. “I am glad to hear it.” Her eyes flickered to something behind him. “Are you leaving?”
“Ah, yes.” He cleared his throat. “Nollworth claims to have some ledgers that may prove illuminating. He won’t just sell them to me but insists I come fetch them. They might be rubbish, of course. But hopefully they’ll be valuable,” he added quickly, realizing too late he was denigrating her efforts.
“I hope they will help.” Her deep blue eyes were so steady and dark, the way they used to be just a few weeks ago. As if she’d pulled back from what happened around her and didn’t want to discuss it any more than he did. Which surely meant he was making a dreadful hash of things.
“I have to go see if he has anything,” he said, giving up any hope of a meaningful conversation or farewell. “I’ll be back in two days.”
“Of course. I understand.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Behind him Bragg and Carter were waiting, pointedly facing away from him and Kate. In front of him she waited, contained and cool, for his response. A river of words—explanations, half-understood feelings, and other thoughts—rushed through his mind until they dammed themselves up inside his head. He needed more than an hour to think this through. He sighed. “I will see you then.” He wanted to pull her close for a proper kiss, public street or not, but her pose wasn’t welcoming; he couldn’t do