Page 58 of A Dangerous Engagement

“Yes, exactly. And how would you like a buffoon such as Ratley running the country?”

“I should not like it at all.” She couldn’t help smiling. But her smile only lasted a moment. “I’m so ashamed when I think how quickly I became engaged to him. Lady Blackstone spoke of him in such glowing terms, and she seemed to think our union was the most ideal thing in the world. And even though I knew little about her, I never suspected she was involved in illegal activities. And Mr.Ratley seemed a good sort of person. But when I think of how wrong I was about his character and motivations ... I was so foolish.”

“Do not be hard on yourself. It is enough that you learned of his unsavory plans and associations before you actually married him.”

“Well, we still have much to do before I am free of him, and before we are sure to escape with our lives.”

“I’m afraid that is so.”

Her delicate brows drew together as she stared thoughtfully off to the side. “The truth is, I do think there is room for reform, for better treatment of our workers and the poor. I can hardly bear to think of anyone going hungry, much less of someone starving to death.”

“Of course,” Philip said. She was so softhearted—just as a lady should be—but also wise and strong.

“But ... it cannot be good, the things they have planned—to murder and assassinate so many people. It’s so barbaric. How can anyone do such things?” She pressed a hand to her forehead and eyes. “But when I think how I have been lying and deceiving and ... it makes me physically sick.”

He wished he could comfort her, but he didn’t want to seem as if he, too, was taking liberties.

“I remember you saying you have a mother and brothers.” She must wish to talk of something else.

“I have a mother and father in Westmorland and three older brothers who were in London for the Season when I left. The oldest and heir to my father’s estate is ...” He couldn’t say much about his brother that was positive. “He divides his time between the estate and London. Another brother is a clergyman in Sussex, and the third is distinguishing himself as an officer in the army.”

“And you? Do you enjoy working in the Home Office?”

“I do. I think my father and brothers did not consider my choice”—how should he put it?—“distinguished enough for them. Their opinion is that I should be an officer fighting in foreign fields, or an orator or statesman, or at least a clergyman making sermons every week. But none of those things appealed to me particularly.”

She was gazing at him, her eyes hardly blinking. She made him feel ... admired. But perhaps he was only imagining things.

“What did appeal to you?” She leaned closer to him.

“I rather craved to be a spy. There is more of a need these days than you might think. So many reformers are tired of trying peaceful methods and think the French had the right idea—killing off the monarchy and those in Parliament and starting over.”

“Not to mention the Americans, who revolted successfully.”

“Yes, exactly. It should be interesting to see how their democratic government turns out.”

She was smiling now. “I cannot help feeling some admiration for the Americans. If they were brave enough to sail across the ocean and start a new life in a wild and savage country, of course they do not wish to be governed by the country they vacated for a better one.”

“Would you ever go to America?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps. Would you?”

“If my prospects were good.” He found himself smiling back at her. He imagined the two of them running away to America, escaping every unpleasant thing about their lives—pressure to impress his brothers, her engagement to Ratley, their lack of fortune and status.

But his thoughts once again were not headed in a direction likely to produce peace of mind or prudent decisions.

“You should get some sleep if you can. I will stay awake and listen for everyone to go back in the house.”

A loud laugh came from several yards away, as if conjured up by his words, reminding her that as cozy and private as their conversation seemed, danger was near.

“That is generous of you,” she said, leaning back against the wall. She stifled a yawn. “I am tired.”

Philip’s mind drifted to the false panel in his trunk and the papers and key he had hidden there. What terrible timing to be trapped here when he should be copying those papers. And yet, he didn’t regret the time spent with Miss Mayson.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Felicity awakened with a start. Someone was touching her shoulder.

A shadowy figure loomed over her.