“What if I enjoy my life here? What if I don’t want to go to Switzerland?” A pregnant silence filled the room, and she knew, quite suddenly, that this was the moment she had been waiting for. She held her breath with anticipation, willing him to say the words she wanted. If he couldn’t say I love you perhaps he could show her.
“It’s only for a few years. We would return...”
He was still speaking, but she wasn’t listening any longer. He wouldn’t even offer to forgo his plans for her. She wouldn’t have made him give up his ambitions, but she would have known that he was willing to make the sacrifice. If he only cared for her that much, then she thought he might fall in love with her, given time. But he was like every other man, thinking himself better and more important than any woman.
Better to remain a spinster, a bluestocking with a shocking expertise in weaponry, than trade her soul for a warm body beside her night after night.
“Out,” she said, pointing to the door. “Take your coat and go.”
He lifted his coat as though it was laden with bricks. “Eliza, please.”
“We’ll have to meet elsewhere to discuss the mission from now on. Don’t come here again.” She opened the door.
She thought he might bow his head and scurry away. Instead, he stepped into the corridor and looked her directly in the eye. “This isn’t the end.”
She closed the door on him and locked it. “Oh, yes, it is.” She was done behaving as a foolish girl would, hoping he would come to love her, hoping he might change. She had to stop being swayed by her baser instincts. He’d certainly learned new bedsport, but marriage was more than a romp in bed. She had to remember that. Most important, she had to forget the promise of all the other tantalizing talents he’d learned.
Six
Pierce hobbled toward the inn, shivering as he cut through the icy yard. The sky was gray and heavy with low-hanging clouds. It would snow again before the day was through. He was annoyed after spending another night in the stable. The annoyance stemmed, in part, from the ache in his back and shoulders and neck and...well, every part of him ached after spending two nights on that cot.
Pierce also suspected that a reasonable amount of his frustration stemmed from not slaking his needs with Eliza. Why hadn’t he just taken her when she’d offered? Why did he have to be noble, forsaking himself for her pleasure? Why had he tried to speak? He had never been a skilled orator. More often than not, he stumbled over words rather than used them. He’d thought Eliza was different. He’d thought he’d finally found a woman with whom he could be himself, with whom he could share his thoughts and hopes and dreams. But she seemed to want something he couldn’t give.
Perhaps he should simply lie to her and say he loved her, but even though he was a spy (oh, very well, a clerk to spies), he didn’t like to lie. And he didn’t do it very convincingly. That was no way to begin a marriage. If he could just fall in love with her! As he entered the warm inn and removed several tedious layers, he thought that task might be easier were she to allow him to share her bed. Relegating a man to the stables did not engender warm feelings.
He spotted her almost as soon as he took a seat at an empty table. He should have been cheered to find she was up early, looking a bit tired around the eyes. But the evidence that she had not slept well failed to cheer him. He knew her. Her mind was set, and she would not change it. Her only weakness had been pleasure. She was a passionate woman. He’d taken advantage of that part of her nature, hoped to use it to sway her, but now that avenue was closed to him as well.
He should focus on the mission. He’d thought of nothing but Eliza all night, when he should have been planning how to trap Mr. Wilson.
Wilson and his aunt sat together this morning close to the hearth. Mrs. Penter coughed quietly, keeping her handkerchief close to her nose, where she perpetually held it. Did she know her nephew might be the New Sheriff of Nottingham? Pierce glanced at his pocket watch. He had time to break his fast before the first coach arrived, assuming coaches were still traveling this way, considering the number of times the highwayman had struck recently.
When Peg appeared, he ordered tea, toast, and jam and focused on every corner of the room except Eliza’s. But every corner had a sprig of mistletoe in it. Would it draw attention if he ripped them all down and tossed them into the fire?
Best to leave the trappings of Christmas in place. He would ignore them. Langrick and Barber sat at a table with Mr. Dowell. Freeland and Cardy were absent, and Goodman was also not accounted for, although Pierce assumed he was either dining in his room or at the duke’s estate.
Freeland’s absence was suspicious. Wilson seemed the more likely suspect, but Freeland was still a candidate. If the highwayman struck, and Freeland was absent, Pierce would not hesitate to have the man arrested.
As it was, Pierce spent two uneventful days observing Wilson and Freeland as often as possible. The Sheriff did not strike, and Pierce feared not only his relationship with Eliza but the mission as well was lost.
He attempted to speak to Eliza. He even tried to walk with her, but when she saw him coming, she walked the other way. For a short woman, she could walk quickly. When he endeavored to have a conversation with her, she answered briefly
