Page 52 of A Dangerous Engagement

“Thank you for meeting me, Mr.Merrick. I wanted to tell you what I learned from Mr.Ratley today.” She proceeded to tell him about how the insurrectionists all planned to scatter and carry out their plans from different places around the country, and she told him especially about the leaflets and pamphlets.

“Did you know,” she said, focusing on his blue eyes, “that they have a printing press here?”

“Yes. It’s in a building next to the gardener’s shed. They use it to print leaflets with their violent reform rhetoric.”

Mr.Merrick’s brows drew down in that now-familiar wrinkle above his nose, and he tapped the fingers of his right hand against his leg, another little habit of his.

“I have been considering whether I should destroy it so they can’t print any more of their insurrectionist propaganda. It might even delay their revolution if they don’t have enough leaflets.”

“But wouldn’t that be dangerous? They might realize a traitor lurked in their midst.”

“I could make it seem as if it broke on its own.”

“We could do it tonight, then, after everyone is asleep. They run the printing press twelve hours a day, Mr.Ratley said. No one will be running it tonight.”

“You should let me take care of it. If they see us ...”

“If they see you, they will kill you, but they probably would not kill me. Besides, I want to help.”

“There is no need for you to risk your safety. I will take care of it.” He was leaning toward her with that intense look in his eyes.

Felicity realized she’d been holding her breath. She let it out. “Very well.”

He seemed to realize he’d been leaning in, and he took a step back and straightened. She saw him take a breath to steady himself. “Forgive me if I sounded ... harsh.”

“Not at all. You wish to do your job. I respect that.”Although you could accept my help with no extra risk to yourself—or your silly pride.But, to be fair, there would be less danger of getting caught if one should sabotage the printing press rather than two.

“I am grateful to have you for an ally, Miss Mayson. I am only sorry ...” He tapped his fingertips on his leg again.

When he did not continue, she asked, “Sorry? For what?”

“Sorry that you must continue to suffer Mr.Ratley’s attentions.”

Her stomach churned. He’d probably heard their argument about kissing. Her cheeks heated.

“Hopefully it will be over soon.”

“I—yes.” Her face was burning. “I am keeping him at arm’s length as much as I can. I’ve told him we cannot get married until he asks my father’s blessing, and since he isn’t likely to go to London for that purpose ...”

An awkward silence followed. If their situation was not so important to so many people other than themselves, Mr.Merrick would certainly come to her aid. But the thought stirred an ache in her chest, so she pushed it away. She didn’t want to cry and make him any more uncomfortable than he already was. He was obviously a gentleman, so of course he wished to save her this indignity of having to fight off Mr.Ratley’s kisses. Only because he was a gentleman. He did not care specifically for her. And she shouldn’t wish he did. She shouldn’t. But she did.

Philip felt the gut-wrenching pain of Miss Mayson’s embarrassment and relived seeing Oliver Ratley looming over her by the entrance to the shell grotto trying to intimidate her into letting him kiss her. Philip imagined grabbing Ratley’s shoulder, spinning him around, and slamming his fist in his cowardly face. The thought of Ratley’s nose spurting blood was the only thing that kept Philip from doing something that might jeopardize his mission.

He should change their topic of conversation.

“Today I got a letter saying my mother’s illness has worsened, and the doctors do not expect her to recover.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry.” Felicity gasped and pressed a hand to her chest.

“No, notmymother. It is a ploy. A colleague from the Home Office sent the letter, as per our plan, in case I needed a distraction at this point in my investigation. I shall tell Lady Blackstone of the letter—she no doubt already knows, for they open every letter that arrives—and then tonight after dinner I shall use it as an excuse to leave the company early and go up to my room to be alone and pen some letters to my family. I’ll sneak out to the printing press, disable it, and be back inside before anyone misses me.”

He would also use that time to go into Lady Blackstone’s room and steal the papers, but there was no need to divulge that information. He didn’t want her to worry.

“Very well.” She seemed disappointed that she would not be helping him.

“Your information has been invaluable, Miss Mayson. I cannot thank you enough.”

“I am happy for anything I can do. Although I would prefer to have these people apprehended sooner rather than later so that my Aunt Agnes and I can go home.” She smiled, her lips curving symmetrically, her pink cheeks and green eyes delicately enhancing her beauty, and her pale-red-blonde hair framing perfectly arched brows and thick lashes.