Jerome woke to something softly brushing his ribs. He grunted and swatted at it, unwilling to drag himself from warm sleep.

But instead of halting the ticklish contact, his swat elicited a giggle.

His eyes shot open as the events of the previous eve rushed back. Elaine.

He found her curled up next to him, her fingers lazily tracing the muscles on his side. Her hair was a love-tussled mane of burnished copper, her creamy skin flushed a bonny pink. Her bright blue eyes were earnest and merry, her lips curving with pleasure as he caught her hand to cease her exploration.

“Morning,” he rumbled, dropping a kiss onto those rosy lips. He was rewarded with an even deeper blush.

Damn it all, he was a fool—for her. Things had gone much further than he’d meant last night. He’d come into their chamber with the intention of telling her he was sending her back to Scotland, and instead they’d ended up making love. He would never regret it, but hell if it didn’t make everything more complicated.

Still, he’d meant what he said and he would not go back on it. They were in this together, now. Elaine was right, too. They had accomplished far more together than he could have alone. And of course there was no bloody way in hell he was going to let her go after what they’d shared last night. Which meant some tough decisions lay ahead.

“We need to talk,” he said gently, releasing her hand.

The teasing glow from her eyes faded and her smile faltered. “About…last night?”

Shite. Without meaning to, he’d made her doubt herself. But of course she was innocent—or had been—and though he’d taken every care with her physically, he’d been too spare with his words.

“Last night was incredible,” he said. “I’ve never kenned a woman like ye, Elaine.”

That pretty blush was back. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

“With the right one, it can be, so they say—and after last night, I am inclined to believe them.”

Her eyes warmed at that, but there was still much left unspoken between them. Jerome had been so set against giving in to his feelings for Elaine that he hadn’t considered what would happen if he did.

In fact, naught was as he thought it would be. Instead of threatening to ruin his mission, Elaine’s presence was a boon. They were closer than ever to unraveling this scheme against the Bruce. But what could come of their deepening attachment? And what would it mean to care for—love—another after so many years alone?

He shook his head to clear it. Whatever de Soules and Balliol were up to still had to remain their focus.

“What I meant was, we need to discuss what comes next. I willnae send ye away, but I damn well need to ensure yer safety however we proceed.”

Her russet brows arched. “I’ve actually come up with a plan.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. While you slept.”

Jerome would have cursed himself for his laziness if he weren’t so occupied with admiring Elaine’s ingenuity. “Tell me.”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and his gaze lingered there despite himself.

“You aren’t going to like it,” she said with a frown.

He propped himself on one elbow and waited, watching her.

“It would mean getting Kieran involved,” she began. “And abandoning your mission to deliver the King’s declaration to the Pope.”

Jerome jerked upright. “What?”

“Hear me out,” she said, clutching the coverlet to her chest to keep it from being yanked away by his abrupt movement. “I believe he can be trusted. And you said yourself that it was only a matter of time before he pieced together the truth.”

“And what of me forsaking my mission?”

“I’m sure the Bruce would gladly forgive you if it meant thwarting his overthrow.”

Jerome grudgingly eased back onto his elbow, eyeing her. “Go on.”

“We cannot let de Soules continue on to Avignon, for who knows what other scheming he might do. But without hard proof against him, nor can we confront him yet—if we did, we’d risk his cohorts catching wind and scattering, and then the Bruce would never know who—or how many—are in on this Balliol plot.”

Jerome urged her to continue with a curt nod.

“Therefore we must keep him here in Paris, but we cannot let suspicion—either for him or for what he schemes—to spread. He must be forced to remain at court for some innocuous reason like falling ill. I believe Lady Vivienne can help with that.”

“Then where does Kieran come in?”

She worried her lower lip for another moment before going on. “You will give him the Bruce’s declaration and he will continue on to Avignon. We’ll tell him what we’ve learned so far, for I doubt he would accept such a change in plans without good reason, but for the rest—including King Philip—I think it would be best to keep our motivations secret.”

“And us? Where will we be?”

Elaine drew in a deep breath. “We will go to Balliol’s estate and learn whatever we can of his plot. It is dangerous, to be sure, but we can’t return to Scone with only a hunch of what Balliol and his supporters are about. De Soules, de Brechin, and whoever I heard him speaking with have infiltrated the Bruce’s court all the way to its inner layer. We must learn more of what they plan, and when, if we are to protect the Bruce.”

Jerome raked a hand through his hair. Elaine was right—he didn’t like it, but they needed to gather more information before sounding the alarm. Continuing on to Avignon would only draw them farther away from Scotland—and Balliol. And they couldn’t keep up the ruse with de Soules forever, especially now that they knew he was only a middle-man between Balliol’s supporters in the Bruce’s court and the would-be usurper himself.

“What will we tell King Philip? And Balliol, for that matter.” Even as he asked the question, he knew he would acquiesce to Elaine’s plan. It was bold, and risky, but damn it all if it wasn’t brilliant as well.

Her lips twitched with mirth. “Tell King Philip that we are having another lovers’ quarrel and you’ve decided once and for all to see me returned to Scotland. It will be enough to explain why we’ll leave his court riding north rather than south. Or better yet, tell him that you’ve decided to make an honest woman of me and need to get me back to Scotland to secure my father’s permission before we wed.”

Though she smiled, he sensed a question in her eyes. Without thinking, he spoke from the heart.

“The truth is always better than a lie. I’ll tell him I’m desperate to keep ye as my own, then. And Balliol?”

She blinked, struck speechless for a moment. “I…yes, Balliol. This will be the most dangerous of all, but I believe we can sell him on it. We’ll pretend to be supporters, part of de Soules and the others’ scheme. He might just let something slip if he thinks we are sympathetic to his cause.”

Damn, if Elaine were a man, Jerome had no doubt she’d be leading armies with a mind that strategic and daring. “Aye,” he said slowly, working through each part of the plan. “That just might work.”

Elaine opened her mouth to respond, but a soft knock on the chamber door interrupted her. She squeaked in surprise and yanked the coverlet all the way to her chin to hide her nakedness beneath, despite the fact that the door was still securely closed and bolted.

Jerome rose and padded toward the door, snatching up his plaid as he went. Elaine scrambled from the bed and slipped into the dressing robe she’d worn last night before diving under the covers once more. He looped his plaid around his waist as he lifted the bolt and eased the door open a crack.

Lady Vivienne stood on the other side. She remained perfectly composed despite Jerome’s state of dishabille, her features trained into polite blankness.

“I brought Lady Elaine a few gowns I believe will fit,” she said, holding up a folded stack of brightly colored silks and brocades. “The one she arrived in is still being cleaned.”

Jerome opened the door enough to lift the dresses from her hold, but the lady-in-waiting’s perceptive blue gaze slid past him into the chamber.

“I trust you found everything suited to your needs last eve,” she said, a little too knowingly for Jerome’s liking. He glanced over his shoulder to find Elaine blushing to the roots of her russet hair in their tousled bed. He was about to close the door with a curt dismissal when Elaine called out.

“Jerome, wait.” She fixed him with a searching look. “Mayhap…mayhap now is the time to speak with Lady Vivienne.”

He would have preferred more time to chew on their plan, but time was one of many luxuries they no longer had if they meant to stop Balliol. Jerome opened the door wider and ushered Lady Vivienne inside. She blinked in confusion but stepped in, glancing between Jerome and Elaine.

“Thank you again for confiding in me yesterday about where you’d seen Sir William,” Elaine said to the lady-in-waiting. “We have a favor to ask, one that will sound most…strange, until you hear us out.”

Lady Vivienne nodded hesitantly, and once Jerome had closed the door, Elaine began to explain everything to the Frenchwoman.