Charlie’s ears still rang with cries of “Fire!” hours afterward. Anthony’s dirk rested across her knees, in case Stills lunged toward her. She aimed the empty pistol at him to keep him in line. Her arms ached from switching the pistol back and forth for nearly two hours.

The fire hadn’t grown large enough to cause a debilitating amount of damage to the stable. With the recent rain, the wood had been sufficiently damp to ward away the flames. However, the smoke was another matter. The building still hadn’t cleared of it to the satisfaction of the lead hostler. Given the way he hovered over each of the mount’s heads in turn, he worried over their continued health. A local physician examined those brave enough to have plunged into the smoky building to help.

While shouting a warning to rouse the innkeeper and his employees, Anthony had been the very first of that number. Despite his bravery, he’d waved away the physician’s attention in order to ensconce himself in a tête-à-tête with Sir Walter, the magistrate who had recently arrived. How long did it take for him to explain their situation—and their captive—to the older man?

“He doesn’t love you, no matter how he pretends.”

Cursing her inattention, Charlie turned her back on the conversation between Anthony and the magistrate. She fixed her gaze and her aim on Lieutenant Stills once more but didn’t respond.

“He’s a seaman, desperate for female company. The only thing he’s interested in resides beneath your skirts.”

Charlie gritted her teeth. “Don’t be crass.”

“Don’t be a fool. He isn’t the honorable man he pretends to be.”

You’re wrong. Charlie knew that for a fact. This would be the third night they would share a room. The last several times she’d invited him into bed with her, he’d declined and slept on the hard, uncomfortable floor. She expected no different tonight.

Anthony arrived, cutting the conversation short. Two bullish men, one with a squashed nose and the other carrying a lantern, accompanied him and Sir Walter. As they reached Charlie, Anthony offered his hand. She accepted his help to stand, her legs a bit stiff from sitting in one position for so long. Sir Walter’s men took Lieutenant Stills in hand.

The moment Charlie was on her feet, Anthony introduced her to the magistrate and thanked the man for his aid in taking charge of Lieutenant Stills.

Something about the way Anthony clipped off his words told her that he was not pleased with the outcome of this night. Charlie wondered whether it was because his closest friend had been unmasked as the enemy, or because Anthony would rather turn him over to his superiors than a country magistrate. Charlie rankled over not being able to present an enemy spy to Lord Strickland, who could extract better information than their efforts had yielded. However, they didn’t have the time or the resources to transport a prisoner themselves. They had to trust in the local branch of the law to see that justice was served.

“Forgive us,” Anthony said as he clasped her elbow. “It’s been a dreadfully long night, and we must depart early on the morrow.”

Their mission was far from over, but as Anthony steered her into the inn and up the stairs to their shared room, Charlie’s heart pounded with excitement. She didn’t know how she would possibly sleep.

Together, they had captured a French spy. Perhaps she hadn’t played as big a role in the capture as she would have liked, seeing as the altercation had turned physical, but she preferred to think that her bluff had turned the tide of the fight. It certainly seemed to have been enough to keep Lieutenant Stills in line while she awaited the magistrate’s men. Now that they had dealt with that unexpected threat, they would be able to reach Tenwick Abbey without issue. After all, Anthony had doused the fire long before it had reached the horses.

As they reached the corridor above, Anthony dropped his palm to cradle the small of her back. The intimate touch roused a shiver up her spine. Fighting against knees that threatened to turn to jelly, she entered their room and waited for him to follow and shut the door. The moment he did, he leaned his back against it.

Had Lieutenant Stills been right in warning her that Anthony cared for no more than her body? Charlie had encountered many a man who dismissed every part of her save for her beauty. Anthony, however, did not. If he hadn’t thought her capable and strong, he would never have left her alone with a dangerous spy, even one that had been defeated.

However, at that moment, Charlie craved a bit of physical admiration. The gentle kiss he’d given her earlier that day seemed like ages ago. They were together, alone, and he had the opportunity to prove his former second-in-command correct and ravage her. The thin light wafting in from the open window made his eyes gleam with promise.

“Why don’t you strip out of your gown? It must be damp after sitting on the grass for so long. I promise not to look.”

That blasted honorable man. Lieutenant Stills’s pronouncement was nothing more than hogwash. Charlie stifled a sigh and retreated behind the dressing screen to doff her muslin dress and slippers. She removed her stays for comfort. When she emerged again, Anthony had lit a candle and removed his boots. He stood by the vanity, facing the wall.

Since he appeared good to his word and wouldn’t peek at her state of undress, she crossed and laid her clothing over the vanity to dry for tomorrow’s travel. As she straightened, she brushed against him. Awareness of him raised the hairs on her arms.

His shoulders swelled as he took a breath. She licked her lips as she beheld him. Clad in only his shirtsleeves, his muscles rippled beneath the cloth. Unable to resist, she reached out to touch him.

His held breath turned into a groan. “Go to bed, Charlie.”

I will, if you’ll join me. She wasn’t quite that brazen. She swallowed hard before whispering, “Earlier today, you said you kissed me because you couldn’t resist.”

He half-turned but didn’t lower his gaze from hers. For a moment, he did nothing more than look at her, as if he waged an inner war. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Perhaps I wish you wouldn’t try.”

“Charlie, we are—”

“Alone. I know.” She doubted that was what he meant to say, but she didn’t want to hear him hide behind an excuse. Certainly not the mission they shared.

His eyes darkened as his gaze swept downward for the briefest of moments. Color warmed her cheeks at the notion of him seeing her in nothing but her chemise, but she didn’t attempt to cover herself. It would have been in vain, in any case.

She cupped his cheek, her palm scraping against three days of unshaved stubble. “This time, perhaps I’m the one who cannot resist.” Stepping closer, she rose on tiptoe to kiss him.

The moment her lips touched his, his mouth softened. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, as much for balance as anything else. After a moment’s hesitation, he embraced her just as close.

He tried to end with that quick, chaste kiss, but Charlie wasn’t ready to part from him. She nipped at his lower lip, demanding more. With a groan, he cupped the back of her head and gave it to her.

Sensation flooded her as she surrendered to the kiss. He pressed her intimately against him. A moment later, he slipped his hand beneath her bottom and lifted her. Her chemise, which ended just below the knee, rose higher over her thigh as she wrapped her legs around him to keep from falling.

Her world teetered, and next she knew, her back pressed against the mattress. Anthony continued to kiss her, resting the bulk of his weight on one forearm. As he traced the contours of her figure, she melted against him, ready to follow his lead.

Unfortunately, it ended too soon. As he reached the dip in her waist, he stiffened and drew himself away. He grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and held it between them as he rose.

“Anthony?”

“Goodnight, Charlie.” His voice was gravelly as he retreated to the vanity. “Keep the coverlet. I’ll use my cloak.”

He intended to sleep on the floor again. She stifled a sigh. As she sat up, her body still awakened from his touch, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “It wouldn’t kill you to sleep next to me, you know.”

He didn’t answer as he stretched out on the floor with his back to her and his cloak pulled up over his shoulder.

Charlie bit the inside of her cheek as she blew out the candle and slipped between the sheets. Anthony was far too honorable. Perhaps he didn’t love her, but it was clear that he would never take advantage of their predicament.

Staring at the ceiling, she waited for exhaustion to retake her after these long few days. Her heart continued to pound as she thought of Anthony instead.

If she wanted something from him, it appeared that she would have to take it herself.

* * *

Storm clouds brewed to the west, thick froths of darkness churning the air kicked up by the horse’s hooves. The air smelled thick with the promise of rain. Charlie’s arms tightened around Gray’s waist, a sure sign that she noticed the impending storm, too.

Blast! If only they’d had a second horse, they might have made better time. However, as grateful as the innkeeper was for their assistance in saving his stables and apprehending the man responsible for lighting it on fire, he’d had only one horse to offer them in their journey.

The others had been too affected by the smoke to serve as reliable mounts. Therefore, he and Charlie yet again rode two to a horse, necessitating frequent stops and a pace no greater than the occasional trot.

“We won’t make it to Tenwick Abbey,” Charlie shouted above the mounting wind.

Considering that evening would be upon them in an hour or two and they’d yet to halve the distance, Gray had to agree with her pronouncement. However, it didn’t sit well with him—it was possible that Stills had been successful in delaying them too long.

He dug his heels into the mount’s side, urging the horse to a quick trot despite the prolonged pace of the day and heavier-than-average load.

“If we don’t find shelter, we’ll be caught in the storm.”

At the mouth of an offshoot of the road, Gray halted and twisted in the saddle to try to meet Charlie’s gaze. He was only moderately successful. The clouds behind them blotted out the sun, deepening the afternoon gloom until it seemed closer to twilight. The overhanging branches of an unusual, L-shaped tree further dampened his field of vision.

“What do you suggest?” he asked. He had to raise his voice in order to hear it. A gust of wind blew strands of Charlie’s hair into his face. “I can find a hollow and make a lee to shelter us, or we can stop at the next farmhouse we see.”

Charlie pointed toward the tree. “I recognize that tree. We’re near to Lucy’s country estate. When I left with Mama, she was in residence there. It must be no more than an hour’s ride away.”

Gray judged the looming clouds then glanced down the path. Did they have an hour before the storm was upon them? The faint rumble in the distance didn’t bode well.

“Are you certain this is the route to Lucy’s estate?” With his sister’s recent marriage, Charlie couldn’t have been there often, and certainly not from this direction.

“I couldn’t mistake that tree. Lucy called it provenance that her initial was already marking the route.”

Gray chuckled under his breath and shook his head. “You mean to say she didn’t prune the tree to look that way?”

“I’m afraid not. It grew in that shape of its own volition.”

Another, louder rumble growled behind them like a savage beast. They didn’t have a moment to waste.

“Hold tight, then. We must make haste.”

He kicked the horse into a canter as Charlie tightened her hold around his waist.

* * *

By the time Charlie tapped on his shoulder and pointed at the path twining up to a grand manor, they were both soaked to the skin. Gray had insisted she take his cloak, but with the way the wind whipped the rain into them, it didn’t do much good. His shirt was plastered to his back with moisture, and Charlie had been pressed tight against it for the past hour.

“That’s it,” Charlie yelled.

As another crack of thunder split the air, Gray scarcely heard. His ears rang as he turned the agitated horse down the winding path. The sky lit up with a flash of lightning that blanketed the horizon from end to end. It left a purplish imprint on his vision as it disappeared.

The ground churned beneath the horse’s hooves as they battled down the drive toward the stables. The doors were shut tight, but Gray prayed someone was left in attendance to see to their mount. The poor beast heaved with pants, from either exhaustion or fright.

Charlie jumped and tightened her hold on him as another peal of thunder shook the air. “Almost there,” he promised. He couldn’t hear his own voice above the wind.

The moment they skidded to a halt in front of the stables, Gray dismounted and lifted Charlie to her feet. For a moment, her legs trembled, and she leaned against him. At any other time, he would welcome the excuse to hold her. Now, unfortunately, he feared they might catch their death.

He pointed to the manse and ordered her to rouse Lucy and explain the situation. He didn’t know if she heard his words, but she dashed toward the manor nonetheless.

He walloped on the stable door. After a moment, it opened a crack, fighting against the wind. He dug his fingers into the slit and pried it apart far enough to face a young stable boy. Over the roar of the wind and thunder, he explained that he was Lucy’s brother and needed a place to stable his horse. The moment he turned over the steed, he bolted for the manor.

Charlie stood just inside the foyer, shivering and dancing from foot to foot in a widening pool of water. She looked as pale as a ghost as she clutched his cloak to her tightly. Only one person, an aged and stoic man who likely served the household as either a footman or butler, occupied the room.

“Where’s Lucy?”

“He sent a man t-t-to rouse her.” Her teeth chattered.

Hell and damnation. She would fall ill if she didn’t get out of those clothes soon. Unfortunately, he had no warmth to offer her but that of his own body. Although he was just as wet as she, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Her shivers abated as she burrowed against his chest.

When he heard footsteps, he reluctantly drew away. Clad in a flower-printed wrapper, Lucy barreled into the entry. A tall, auburn-haired man in a banyan followed on her heels. The moment she spotted her visitors, Lucy stopped short and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Anthony?”

It was lucky he had released Charlie, because in the next instant, he found his arms full of Lucy. She squeezed the life out of him. He returned the hug gingerly, his ears ringing from her babbling.

“How did you get here? Shouldn’t you be at sea? Why are you with Charlie? Where are your things?”

Relief swept over him. If something had already happened to Mother, Lucy would surely have mentioned it. Instead, she seemed her usual curious self, if not a bit glowy. Gray glanced at the man beside her, her husband, and decided he didn't like thinking about his little sister married, or what this new husband had to do with her glowing. Best not to mention their mission right away. He didn't want to upset Lucy, and since it appeared that nothing had happened to Mother yet, he'd ease into it.

He pulled back long enough to say, “It’s a long story, and it’s been a long journey.” He frowned as he took in her attire once more. “Why are you dressed for bed? It can’t yet be past suppertime.”

Lucy turned as pink as a berry. “It’s so dreadful outside, Alex and I thought we’d go to bed early.”

Lud. He’d forget he’d asked. It seemed the fellow would get his heir sooner rather than later, at this rate. No—Gray didn’t want to consider it when his own sister was the wife.

She turned from him to Charlie. “Dear me, you’re both soaked to the skin. We have to get you both out of those clothes at once. Did you leave your valises at the stables?”

“We have no valises,” Charlie answered. “We were robbed along the way.”

Lucy looked horrified. Before she launched another barrage of questions, Gray held up his hand.

“Like I said, it’s been a long and eventful journey.”

“So it seems.” Lucy insinuated herself between him and Charlie and guided them farther into the house. Their shoes squelched on the floor, but she didn’t appear to notice. “Come, you can both have a hot bath and borrow some clothes from Alex and me. After that, I must hear everything.”