But it was real.
The feelings he’d stirred in her chest, the way her body physically responded to his proximity as if they recognized one another from another life, another time. She shut her eyes against the onslaught of thoughts and sensations as she recognized the truth.
She had feelings for him. Maybe even...loved him.
It was madness and it was insanity. And it was the truth.
She gulped, no longer even trying to keep up the pretense that she was fine, because she was not fine. She stared down at her feet as the world spun around her.
She’d found a man who saw her, who saw every part of her, and he loved what he saw. He was the same as her in some way that she could not name. And he understood something in her that she’d dared never address. Had never so much as wished to acknowledge because all it seemed to bring was heartache and grief.
It was the part of her she’d inherited from her mother. The part that had always seemed so wrong. So off.
But Marcus did not think so.
He seemed to think she was perfect, flaws and all.
She shook her head. But he did not know her. Not really.
But I should like to know you.
His words echoed in her ears even as she tried to shut them out.
He might want to get to know her, but she did not know him. Tears pooled in her eyes even as a smile tugged at her lips. But I should like to know him. Very much.
She lifted her head to see that Roger was not paying attention to her, thank goodness. She was not certain how she would hide her tears if he were to glance down. If he were to look at her...to see her. But he wouldn’t truly see her.
He never had.
But Marcus saw her, and he liked what he saw, and he wanted her to go with him.
And he would leave without her.
She would have to let him go.
The thought was sobering, and her heart felt as though it might be crushed as Roger spun her in endless circles.
“Now where is he going?” Roger mused idly, but the question brought her back to the moment with a start.
“Who?” she asked, following his gaze toward a back entrance that was nearly hidden by a worn and faded tapestry.
“Eddleston.” Roger’s voice held that tolerant amusement that he so often used with her, though this time that paternal indulgence seemed aimed at Eddleston.
How did she know that name again?
That was right. He was the one who’d heard her shouts the night before at the caves. Her feet stumbled over the steps. What had he been doing out there that night? Even if he’d been patrolling the coast, the odds of a guard passing at just the right moment to hear her shout were slim.
Her brows drew together as she saw the tall young man glance back once as if to ascertain he wasn’t being followed before slipping out the doorway.
He could have been on patrol, of course.
Or...he could have sent out the cry once he’d been scared off from meeting with Marcus himself because he’d heard her in there. Or maybe even seen her with his own eyes if he’d gotten close enough.
What better way to avoid suspicion than to be the one who sounded the alarm?
Her heart lodged in her throat as she resisted the urge to leap out of Roger’s arms and chase after the younger man herself.
Marcus will catch him, she reminded herself. He and Caleb would be waiting for the smuggler at the cave, and all would be well just as soon as they got their answers.
She nibbled on her lip. But would Eddleston talk to them or would he be too frightened?
Minerva did not know the young officer well, but well enough to know that he was little more than a boy. He’d be terrified of Marcus and Caleb; perhaps someone else was behind the smuggling—someone from this town who scared him even more.
“Minnie, are you all right?” Roger asked again. “I’ll keep asking, you know, until you tell me what’s really going on.”
“Oh yes, fine.” Her smile felt absurd, but she was glad to note it was wide and cheerful, and Roger smiled in return.
“Just excited, I suppose,” she babbled. “I’ve never heard the earl speak before.” She glanced over at the crowd of lords and ladies in finery far nicer than anything one would typically see in Billingham. The nobility stood near the raised stage where the musicians performed, gathering, no doubt, in preparation for the toasts to come.
She glanced up to see Roger following her gaze, his eyes trained on the area before the stage. Relief flooded her veins. If he stared at her for too long, she could only imagine what he might see.
Excitement was too weak a word for this heart-pounding sensation, or the way her limbs seemed to vibrate with a new alertness.
Danger, her pulse seemed to say. Adventure is nigh.
She glanced toward that back doorway as the music began to ebb, a handsome young gentleman near the stage turning as if to mount the steps.
Any minute now, the toasts would begin, and the trap would be set.
Oh, how she wished she could see it unravel, this plan they’d concocted.
As the music came to an end, Roger led her back to the refreshments where Abigail was waiting, her eyes bright with excitement. “This is it, is it not?”
Minerva couldn’t answer because Roger stood between them. “Minnie, my dear, you are shivering.”
Minerva blinked. Was she? Yes. Though technically she supposed she was trembling from excitement as the dancing had left her cheeks flushed with heat, and adrenaline had her muscles tensed and ready for action.
“I shall fetch your wrap, shall I?” Roger’s kind features were filled with concern.
She did not need a wrap but if it meant having a moment alone to think, she’d take it. She smiled. “That would be
