Nathaniel mounted again as Caleb looked up at him. “When this turns, and it will, make certain the girl hears the truth from you.”
Nathaniel gathered up his reins. “If she’ll listen.”
Caleb patted the horse. “She will if you give her a reason to.”
He thought of Anna’s eyes, bright with fury and wounded trust. He wasn’t sure reason would be enough.
He rode toward the harbor post as dusk settled over the road, Mrs. Pembroke’s original message still hidden in his glove and Anna’s hatred following him like a second shadow.
By the time he reached the British sentries, he’d put his useful face back on. It was all he needed when he lied to soldiers.And he prayed the woman he wanted safe would forgive him for saving her in the worst possible way.
Anna made it back to the kitchen without running. She considered that something of a miracle. Her legs wanted to sprint while her heart wanted to pound its way out of her chest.
Nathaniel had taken the message. He’d reached beneath her cuff as if he had every right, pulled Mrs. Pembroke’s note free, and hidden it in his hand before the soldiers could see. Then, when they came close enough to search her, he’d stepped between them and sent her back like a foolish maid who’d wandered where she shouldn’t.
She closed her eyes at the thought. That’s exactly what she was. Foolish. Because some part of her had wanted to believe him.
Even when he asked for the message and everything in her screamed not to trust him, there’d been that one terrible part of her that remembered his warnings, his little glances, and the way he’d drawn attention away from her at the ball. She’d wanted him to be better than he appeared.
Anna slipped through the kitchen door, shut it behind her, and stood with one hand against her chest.
Mrs. Fenwick looked up from the table. “Where’s the horehound?”
Anna stared at her.
Mercy, who’d been doing a poor job of pretending to cough, stopped mid-wheeze. “Anna?”
Mrs. Fenwick rose slowly. “What happened?”
Anna tried to speak but couldn’t get the words out. Probably a good thing. Mercy looked frightened as Elias stepped in from the passage with a basket of kindling in his arms.
Mrs. Pembroke appeared in the doorway behind him. One glance at Anna’s face, and all the old woman’s sharp humor vanished. “Morning room,” she said.
Anna obeyed without question. She didn’t remember crossing the hall. By the time Mrs. Pembroke shut the morning room door behind them, Anna’s breath was coming in short pants. “He took it,” she said.
Mrs. Pembroke’s face went still. “Who?”
“Mr. Reed.” Anna pressed both hands to her middle. “The soldiers didn’t search me. He stopped them. He took the message before they could, then gave them another paper. I don’t know how, but he knew exactly where I’d hid it in my sleeve. How did he know?”
Mrs. Pembroke crossed to her. “It’s a common hiding place, dear. Did he give them our message?”
Anna closed her eyes. She hadn’t seen him do it. But she had seen him hand them a paper. She watched him speak calmly to them, all authority and usefulness, while she stood there feeling stripped of every secret she’d tried to protect.
Anna opened her eyes and whispered, “I don’t know.”
Mrs. Pembroke’s expression shifted. Not into relief or fear, but something more complicated.
Anna opened her eyes. “You think he didn’t.”
“I think Mr. Reed is more careful than that.”
She frowned. “He’s a British courier. And you still want to give him the benefit of the doubt?”
Mrs. Pembroke lifted her brows as she put her spectacles on. “I rarely give anyone the benefit of anything, dear.”
Anna turned away, furious because tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Then what are you saying?”
“I am saying you may have seen one thing and understood another.”
