Page 71 of A Courtship of Conspiracies
“And if I did want that?”
“Then I would marry you tomorrow and count myself the most fortunate man alive.” He kissed her with the slow, steady certainty of a man who had finally found exactly where he belonged.
She did not answer with words. She did not need to. James seemed to understand, for his smile softened into something breathlessly tender.
“Though I am pleased to now call you my betrothed in earnest”—his voice was low, threaded with something fierce and guarded—“I am counting the hours until I may call you my wife. But for now,” he murmured against her lips, “I shall simply have to call you Raven.”
She ran her fingers through his hair. “Fox,” she breathed before his lips found hers again.
And this time, there were no secrets—or shadows—between them.
Chapter 23
James
James stood in the foyer, tapping his riding gloves against his leg and checking the stairs again. He wanted to see Kate, to be near her. Footsteps sounded in the corridor, and hope stirred, only to fade when Lady Hawthorne appeared to bid them farewell. Westmarch had taken his leave the day before and would meet them in London.
“James, I am disappointed you must leave so soon,” Lady Hawthorne said as she approached, her smile wistful. “But I am so pleased that you and Kate paid me a visit. I hope you both found what you were looking for.”
“You were a gracious hostess as always, Lady Hawthorne, especially with our unexpected arrival,” he replied, trying—but failing—to keep his focus on her instead of the stairs behind her.
Her attention shifted briefly to the stairs, then back to him, amusement glinting in her eyes. “It has indeed been a pleasant visit, and I think you would agree that some things are worth changing plans for.”
He was rewarded for his diligence when Kate appeared at the top of the stairs, luminous in a soft blue gown that complemented her figure. For a second, he could only watch her descend. When their eyes met, the adoration in her gaze nearly undid him. It had scarcely been an hour since he last saw her, yet it felt intolerably long.
“Kate,” Lady Hawthorne said, a surprised tone in her voice, “whyever did you change out of your cream dress? It would have been perfect for the journey.”
Kate glanced at him, a conspiratorial smile touching her lips. “James wanted to show me a lovely prospect at the edge of the park, and I fear I muddied my hem during our walk.”
“Oh, no matter,” Lady Hawthorne said, pulling Kate into her arms for a hug. “You are lovely in any gown.”
“Thank you, Aunt Edith,” Kate said, holding her tightly before withdrawing from the embrace. “For everything.” James executed a quick bow. Kate accepted his offered arm and he led her to the carriage. Heavy clouds loomed in the distance, urging him to quicken their pace. It was only a day’s journey to London, but they could not afford any delays.
He folded his tall frame into the seat beside Kate. Tess sat across from them, and her expression made it clear she had guessed there had been a change between them—and approved. As the carriage rumbled down the lane toward the country road, the maid leaned her head back on the seat with a smile and closed her eyes, giving the two of them what little privacy was to be had.
James took the opportunity to slide closer to Kate, his leg brushing the edge of her skirt. “Whatever wages your father is paying your abigail,” he whispered to Kate, just loudly enough for Tess to hear, “I do not believe it is enough.”
Tess smiled without opening her eyes, and Kate laughed. He reached out and covered her gloved fingers with his, cursingwhoever had decided that gloves must be worn while traveling. He would have to remedy that particular inconvenience.
Kate tilted her face toward him, devotion shining in her eyes, and a profound sense of belonging took hold. He was hers. Completely. “Whatever happens next, Kate, we shall see it through. Together.”
She slipped her arm around his, leaned her head on his shoulder, and let out a small sigh. “Together. I rather like the sound of that.”
For a few blessed hours, they surrendered to the peaceful rhythm of the carriage, content to be together without danger at every door.
The following morning, James stared out at the low, dreary skies of London and the bustle of a city unaware of the threat moving beneath its polished surface. Anxious to begin preparations for the charity ball, he dressed and broke his fast quickly. He had already instructed Jimmy, Anthony, and several other informants to ask discreet questions, hoping to discover if there were any whispers in London’s less respectable corners about the enemy’s plans, but it would take time.
Hurrying down the front steps, he set off in the direction of Kate’s family home, holding his hat to his head before it blew away in the brisk wind that carried the scent of damp stone, coal smoke, and horses. He was eager to see Kate, confide in Hugh, and discuss his friend’s part in what lay ahead. He also needed to return home soon. His mother and sister had arrived while he was in Dover, and he had yet to properly greet them.
The hour was far too early for a typical social call, but nothing about the situation was normal. The butler ushered him into the house, and voices carried from the parlor. Inside, Hugh sat on a low-backed sofa as Kate attempted to adjust his pillows and he voiced complaints at her fussing.
James leaned against the doorway. “It would appear in my absence you still haven’t learned how to follow instructions.”
Hugh pushed himself up on the sofa, the bulge beneath his shirt showing where bandages wrapped around his ribs. “I wasn’t sure what to think when you rode out of here like the devil was at your heels, but thank you for bringing Kate home. She has not told me much of your travels yet, but I trust it was uneventful.”
James turned to Kate, who had already gone pink. He suspected her thoughts mirrored his. The memory of their kisses was never far from his mind. No, they would not be telling Hugh everything that had occurred.
Hugh was too observant to miss the awareness between them. “What is it? What has happened?”
