“Lead the way, oh wise analytical one.”
“That bothered you?” she asked.
“Of course not, I knew all along you are my perfect companion. I’m pleased Philly agrees since she is also a keen analytical minded lady.”
Moments later, Gillian entered their sitting room then sank down on the settee in front of the fireplace. The fire burned low with only a faint glow. To her surprise, Moreham placed another log on the fire. Immediate warmth assaulted her face. Moreham saw to the fire screen then joined her on the settee.
Moreham watched the fire for a moment before turning toward her. “This is nice. I find myself wishing the circumstances of our union were more traditional. Do you agree?”
“Here we are. Two strangers working to bring down a French plot against the Crown, and you want to have a discussion about our rather unconventional marriage?”
“No, I was trying to have a romantic moment with a woman I am most delighted to have as my wife. You will find in my line of work one must seize each moment as it comes. As you so pointedly stated, we have work to do. We may not get an opportunity to voice our feelings.”
“You have feelings for me? I find that incredulous.” Gillian almost laughed at the thought. She couldn’t fathom Moreham ever having feelings for anyone save his mother. She was surprised to find herself more than a little jealous of the affection mother and son shared. Not that she would ever admit such. She wished her husband of less than a sennight would look at her with the affection he bestowed on his mother at her most outrageous moments.
Moreham touched her cheek. “Believe me, I am as surprised as you are. You are the most enterprising woman I have ever met. No simpering or whining for you. At this moment, I am enjoying the glint of impatience in your eyes. You look ready to burst. You, my darling, have passion. I am a lucky man to witness such emotion.”
Moreham slowly lowered his head then rested his forehead against hers. Gillian gave in, tilted her head upward and captured his lips with her own. All thoughts flew from her head as Moreham moaned and drew her body against his. She eased her arms around his neck and held on. There was no way she would let go of this man. Ever.
Moreham pulled back from her. “I will always regret our unconventional marriage. You deserve to be courted. Dancing every dance to the horror of the gossips, stolen kisses in hidden corners of ballrooms and horridly written love notes. I am most apologetic that we subverted those moments. I wish I could say once we are through here, I will make amends, but unfortunately, there will be another assignment. There always is.”
“Oh, Moreham, don’t worry about such. We will be together.”
He frowned and pushed himself back even further from her. The loss of his warmth chilled her.
“What do you mean we will be together? Why would you think that? The only reason you are with me now is due to your uncle’s troubles and your obstinate insistence in coming with me. Once this assignment is over and your uncle is safe, you will be moving into your own house wherever you choose to live. I will be in residence long enough to stop the gossip.”
Coldness seeped into her bones. She looked at the fireplace to see if the flames had died down to find the fire blazing. Confused by Moreham’s words, she tried to make sense of them. Why wouldn’t he live in the same house as she? Nothing had changed.
“I don’t understand.”
“Gillian, my work is far too dangerous. I keep my distance from society to protect my mother. Now, I must also protect you. My distance will keep both of you safe. You understand what I am saying, don’t you?”
She tried to find the warmth she had seen in his eyes moments earlier. That dear man was gone, replaced by an agent of the Crown. The reality of her marriage sunk into her soul. Moreham would not allow himself to love her. Respect her yes, but love her, never. All she would have would be mere stolen moments never hours or days.
Gillian forced a smile to her lips. Now was not the time to fall apart. Her uncle’s life was at stake. They must devise a plan.
“Of course, I understand. You are most correct in your need to see to our safety.” The mantel clock struck two chimes. “Oh my, we must get busy.”
To her relief, Moreham nodded in agreement. Gillian tucked her tattered heart away once more. She would deal with the pain of not being loved later. First, she had to save her uncle.
Gillian rose from the settee and rummaged through a desk by the door to their bedchamber. The woman had not said one word of argument about his intent to leave her.
How could a woman kiss as she did and not want to enjoy that bit of affection at every opportunity?
Did she care? Maybe a small bit?
He had seen her looking at him with what he thought was affection. Not that any woman had ever gazed at him thusly.
His last years had been spent playing cat and mouse with turncoats. No time for Society’s entertainments unless attending such evenings that garnered clues to assist him in unraveling whatever sinister puzzle he had been assigned.
Gillian returned to the settee with a lap desk. She pulled out a pen and ink well from the bowels of the portable desk along with a piece of paper.
“We have at least three gentlemen who we believe will be killed and one gentleman who we believe to be our assassin. The stranger cannot do away with three men alone. He must have others to help
