She nodded. This was not the full partnership she wanted, but it was a beginning.
He held out his hand, the gesture seeming to carry more weight than just their current mission. She hesitated for only a heartbeat before accepting it.
“Come on, Kate. Time to be bold.”
They moved through the darker streets, their earlier argument lingering between them even as her hand remained in his. James set a careful pace, pausing twice to listen before urging her forward.
As they neared the warehouse, a raucous laugh burst through the still air. Kate startled, and James pulled her with him toward a brick building. A watchman approached from the end of the street, a drunk in tow who seemed vastly amused by his own predicament. The watchman’s focus was on the drunk. For now. One glance and he would see them. They could not afford to be seen or remembered.
Kate searched frantically. There was nowhere for them to hide.
James guided her back against the shop front and stepped in front of her, blocking her from view. His sudden proximity demanded her full attention. “Do you trust me?”
He had asked that before. She did not know what he had planned, but her answer was the same. “Yes.”
The laughter drew closer. James set down the lantern and placed his hands on either side of her head. He studied her as the rowdy voice grew louder, then bent his head. Anticipation flooded through her. The sheer warmth of him made her heart race.
When his mouth was a mere breath away from hers, he lowered his head to her neck, brushing the tip of his nose against her skin, up along the sensitive line of her throat. His lips were not touching her yet, but her blood had already turned to ice and then fire. She was aware of James’s strength, of how little space remained between them, of his mouth near the hollow beneath her ear.
“Kate.” The name was a ragged whisper against her skin, more breath than word. She closed her eyes at the brush of his lips on her neck, so soft she might have imagined it. James shifted, and his warmth was replaced with a shock of cold.
“Kate.” Why did he keep saying her name? “Kate.” She blinked at the streetlamps’ glow. James was watching her withan amused, slightly dazed expression. Only then did she notice the departing figures.
“We had better hurry. Sunrise will be here in a few hours.” His mouth curved. “Though I would not object if circumstances required such a performance again.”
He urged her forward and they quickened their pace toward the docks, avoiding the main streets until they reached the warehouse. The streetlamps in the distance threw a pale wash of light across the side of the building as James drew her into the shadowed recess beside the neighboring warehouse.
She tilted her head in question. “Guards,” he whispered, just as she spotted a looming figure pass by the door of the building and disappear around the corner. It was dark, cold, and they might be walking into danger, but she could not deny the flush of exhilaration that ran through her. Yet beneath it, guilt stirred, cold and heavy, for the truth she did not yet dare reveal.
After several tense minutes, the same guard completed another circuit of the warehouse. James squeezed her hand once, then moved. They hurried toward the warehouse door, the scent of wet timber and brine thick in the air. She reached out to push the door open, but it did not budge.
Disappointed, she turned to James, wondering if they should search for another entrance, but he was already pulling a leather pouch from his pocket, opening it to reveal several small metal tools.
He removed two of them, inserting an L-shaped one into the lock followed by a thin metal rod. Dumbfounded, she watched his practiced movements. “What are you doing?” she whispered. He was an earl, a gentleman, yet he handled the lock with unnerving ease. This was not the skill of a clumsy schoolboy. He had done this before. He flashed her a smile, returning to the lock as he worked the thin rod within it until there was a faint click.
“In we go.” His hand settled at the small of her back as he turned the knob and ushered her inside. “The guard will return any moment.”
Once inside, he cautiously shut the door behind them. Darkness enveloped them, the smell of tar and spices potent, the floor cold and gritty beneath her half-boots. She jumped at a rustling nearby that sounded a lot like a small rodent scurrying away.
Moonlight filtered through the high windows, giving only enough light to make out shapes. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, her mind whirled with what she had just seen. Was James some sort of criminal?
No. She knew enough of his heart to reject that thought immediately. He would never. But all the pieces she had seen of James refused to align.
The library. The alley. The bridge. The way he moved through the streets. The lock. All the secrecy.
Could he possibly be working as an agent for some government official? The thought seemed absurd, and yet she was currently standing in a dark warehouse in an itchy cloak searching for evidence against a shadowy organization. Anything was possible.
She felt rather than saw him draw near. His hand found hers in the dark, but she resisted his pull. “How did you know how to pick that lock?”
He stilled before answering. “I will explain, Kate. I promise. But not now.”
She gave a short huff. “Fine. But I shall hold you to that.”
“I would expect nothing less from you, though you may find I have more surprises than you wish to uncover. Now, can we return to our task?”
She nodded, determined to make sure he kept his promise. It seemed she was not the only one keeping secrets.
“We need to search the offices belonging to the clerk and manager,” he said. “They are typically upstairs, away from the main warehouse floor.”
