with the requested items and a few additional things that Mrs. Rambley had thoughtfully included—a hairbrush, hairpins, a nightgown and fresh underclothes.
Mercifully, Sara and Abigail had asked few questions when they found Beatrice and Joshua at the door. Food and baths had clearly been the first priorities. Beatrice had given Sara a summary of events but it was obvious now that Sara was not entirely satisfied.
She regarded Beatrice with a stern air. “You know very well that I am referring to your personal relationship with Mr. Gage.”
Beatrice braced herself. “I thought I explained that Mr. Gage has more or less appointed himself my bodyguard until he can find Clement Lancing. I would not call that a personal relationship.”
“Rubbish. It is evident from the way he looks at you that Gage has appointed himself your lover as well as your bodyguard.”
Beatrice winced and picked up the hairbrush. “Is it that obvious?”
Sara’s expression softened. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Under other circumstances, I would not dream of interfering in your private affairs. You are a woman who has been on her own for quite some time. You are not a naïve innocent. More to the point, you are a Flint and Marsh agent, a lady possessed of considerable talent. You can take care of yourself or you would not be working for us. But Mr. Gage is a man unlike any other you have had occasion to encounter.”
“I am well aware of that, Sara.”
Sara exhaled slowly. “I suppose that is part of the attraction.”
Beatrice smiled. “I suppose it is.”
Upon reflection, Sara’s diagnosis might be the correct one, Beatrice thought. She had been struggling with the question of the attraction she felt for Joshua ever since she had risen from the bed they had shared at dawn.
All morning she had been trying to tell herself that the passion that had flared between them had been fueled, in part, by the excitement generated by danger. In addition she was attracted to Joshua. For his part, there was the factor of that very long year spent rusticating in the country. The two of them had found themselves alone in a bedroom. Those factors had combined to create a volatile brew. The sexual encounter that had taken place at the inn had, in hindsight, been entirely predictable.
But she was not sure that all of those reasons explained the powerful metaphysical bond that she sensed between Joshua and herself this morning. It was as if the lovemaking had established an invisible link between the two of them. She reminded herself that if such a connection actually did exist, it was quite possible that she was the only one who felt it.
Then again, the sensation of an intimate bond might simply be a fantasy that her fevered imagination had concocted to explain her reckless passion. There was no doubt but that she had been struck by a fever of the senses.
“Make no mistake,” Sara continued, “I have always had the greatest admiration for Mr. Gage. But he comes from a very different social world, as I’m sure you realize. He is not yet married but it will not be long before he is obliged to wed for the sake of his family name.”
“I know all this, Sara.” Beatrice tightened her grip on the hairbrush. “As you pointed out, I am not naïve. I am well aware that there is no future for me with Joshua. But I also know that I will never again have an opportunity to experience these feelings and sensations with another man. He is . . . unique.”
“As are you, Bea.” Sara got to her feet and went to the door. “Under normal circumstances, I have no objections to passion. But in my experience, Flint and Marsh agents who make the mistake of falling in love with a person who is connected to a case usually regret it. I advise you to protect your heart while Mr. Gage is protecting you from this madman.”
Thirty-Six
I am well aware that at the moment you have Miss Lockwood’s best interests at heart,” Abigail Flint said.
Joshua had been about to reach for another small sandwich. He paused and cocked a brow at Abigail.
“At the moment implies that at some future time and place I might not have Miss Lockwood’s best interests at heart,” he said.
Abigail fixed him with a grim look. “I do not mean to imply anything of the sort. But I do want to make it clear that Miss Lockwood, although an experienced agent, is, nevertheless, a