this marriage on the onset, only entered into it out of necessity for the mission and at the behest of their leaders.
It was so much more than that now. So much had changed, and the idea that it could all go back to the way it was did not sit well with him. Was unimaginable.
Was unacceptable.
Could not be.
Would not, if he had anything to say about it.
So, in the morning hours, before his wife had woken from the limited sleep they would both receive after yet another late night of work, he’d set about on a completely separate project. One that now awaited them and could dictate the whole course of his future.
Clearly, nothing to be concerned about.
She had to love him; she had to. She could not have gone from nearly despising him to kissing him with such ardor and not have it be love. No one was so convincing an actress, especially not Henrietta Mortimer.
Pratt, he reminded himself, a wave of panic hitting him. She was Henrietta Pratt, and he prayed she always would be.
Oh, heavens, what if she didn’t want to be?
He swallowed with some difficulty as they reentered the de Rouvroy home and found the place completely silent.
Odd.
“Ze family ‘ave all gone to Madame Moreau,” the butler explained as he approached, seeing their confused expressions. “All but Monsieur René, who ‘as gone to ze club with his friends.”
“Merci,” Hal murmured, stripping off her gloves and handing them over with a smile.
John said nothing and simply let the man take his hat.
“A quiet house,” Hal mused when they were alone again, smiling in that impish way he loved so well. “Shall we sneak about the house and find all of the places we have yet to see? Perhaps unearth a secret inheritance I have been owed. You could actually receive something of a dowry for marrying me!” She laughed and nearly skipped down the corridor as though she were going to do just that.
He’d die where he stood if he had to endure aimless wandering about the house just to pass the time.
“No,” he said brusquely, wincing in his mind at the tone the simple word adopted.
Hal turned and gave him a surprised look. “I was only teasing.”
“I know.” He tried for a smile but failed miserably. “Forgive me, I am tired, and the rest I received did not make up for the night I passed.”
She smiled with some sympathy and came back to him. “I can understand that. Why not go upstairs and rest? At least get rid of this.” She flicked the ends of his cravat out from his waistcoat, quirking a brow. “I like you better without it anyway.”
John almost groaned and took her waist in hand. “Come with me? You must be fatigued, too.”
“Oh, I am.” On cue, she yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “Pardon me. I am, to be sure. But I am also famished. So, you go on up, and I’ll fetch us a tray of something, then follow presently.”
Heaven and angels, this was surely some test of his will and patience.
But he smiled, nodded, and moved for the stairs to do just that, remembering belatedly that he hadn’t kissed her then.
Damnation, she might read something into that.
There was nothing to do but continue up to their rooms, remove his cravat, and lay on his bed and wait.
Once there, and all that accomplished, he settled in to wait, though rest was far from his mind. His heart pounded with the fury of a thousand thunderstorms, and every sense was attuned to the door of the parlor. Conveniently, that door happened to be in view from his present position, if he kept his adjoining door open wide.
Which it presently was.
At long last, the parlor door opened, and Hal entered, kicking the door shut behind her.
He’d have laughed at such antics if he didn’t feel so frantic at the moment.
“I find the kitchen staff most accommodating,” Hal called as she set the tray down on the table. “I daresay if I asked for a three-tiered cake, one would be produced from a storeroom somewhere. You would not believe what I have… What’s this?”
The rustle of paper on the table sent a sharp pang of anticipation to John’s heart, and strangely jolting something into the sole of his left foot.
“John, what is this?” she asked, her steps coming closer.
He pried open one eye, though in truth they had not been fully closed at any point. “That? Oh, I thought