drawing.
Their first action as a team, and they had succeeded without a word.
Surely, that was significant.
But there was no time for victory or exhilaration over it, as much as he was relieved by her immediately understanding of what he needed her to do. They were in character at all times in public, at attention whenever they could be observed, and there could be no discussion of anything in any way sensitive when they could be overheard.
They hadn’t exactly discussed their characters, though. There hadn’t been time, and the evening before had been one of hastily delivered instruction and advice. He’d been up half of the night going over what he had been told and running through coded puzzles he used to train himself before any significant project began. His mind needed to be quick, quicker than it had ever been, and his eyes needed to see everything he could possibly see.
His wife had been sleeping in the next bedchamber over.
It had never once occurred to him that their wedding night ought to have been spent together. Until this moment, it hadn’t occurred to him that the night before had actually been his wedding night. The marriage was a legal arrangement, nothing more.
And yet, all they had in this mission of theirs was each other. From all accounts, they would have little by way of allies in France, apart from what lay in the information contained in Hal’s portfolio. The only person he could be absolutely certain of in this whole affair was Hal.
His wife.
Surely, they could set aside old grievances, pitiful though they were.
She was outspoken, and every professional situation they’d met in had displayed that. He’d never reacted well to that, preferring to commence with the business at hand, and they’d had a few minor spats about it. Thankfully, they rarely worked together directly, even if they were both involved in the same mission. Now, they were literally side by side, and their combating natures had to be amended.
He, for one, would take a woman who could annoy him and grate his every nerve with exactness and put his life in her hands, and he would take her life in his own hands, though she likely thought him dull, arrogant, and proud.
Personal opinions could no longer matter where they were concerned.
Only the mission.
If she would not come to him and start them off, then he would take the first step.
Craning his neck against the impossibly tight, yet thankfully simple cravat at this throat, John moved across the deck of the ship towards Hal. She sat, strangely enough, on a large coil of rope as though it were an ottoman in any given drawing room in London. Her bonnet, once perfectly perched and tied atop her head, sat on the planks beneath her, the ribbons draped over her half-boots, her fair hair bared to the sunlight and glinting with it. A few curls danced free from the simple yet fashionable chignon she wore, and added much to the picture she presented, sprigged muslin, blue pelisse, and all.
His fair wife.
He wouldn’t have called her fair yesterday; there was no denying, however, that fair she was.
She was busily, determinedly, sketching away.
John nodded at a passing crew member, and continued in Hal’s direction, lifting his chin. “Sketching away, my dear? What, pray tell, has captivated your attention?”
A very slight smile crossed her lips, but she did not look up. “Why, you, husband.”
“Me?” He did his best not to rear back and came to her side instead. “Why me?”
Hal glanced up, one brow arching. “Why not? I am fascinated by mysteries, and you are more a mystery to me than anyone.”
“True enough, I suppose,” he murmured. “May I see your progress?”
She shrugged and turned the paper towards him. “If you like. I’ve only made a start.”
She had done a great deal more than that. John could not believe what he was seeing. Yes, the drawing was not complete, nor close to it, but its incompleteness only made the likeness all the more startling. She had captured his scowl, his jaw, the set of his shoulders, even the spacing of his eyes. He could have been looking at himself in the mirror, and no portrait his mother had commissioned had ever resembled him so accurately.
And she was not finished with it.
He’d heard rumors of the skills and abilities of Hal, but some corner of his mind had always dismissed them as elaborations.
This was proof of his folly, and it was uncanny.
“Good heavens, Hal.” He shook