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And his kiss! Dear Lord, it had made her feel things that couldn't possibly be good for her sanity. He had leaned toward her, and she'd simply frozen, mesmerized by his heavy-lidded stare. If he hadn't upset the moment by calling her Carlotta, heaven only knew what she would have let him do.
The most amazing thing had been that he had seemed to enjoy the kiss as well. Percy had always said that she was the third-ugliest girl in all Hampshire, but then again Percy was a fool and his taste had always run toward buxom blonds …
“Caroline?”
She looked up sharply.
James's lips were curved into an amused smile. “You're woolgathering.”
“Oh. Terribly sorry. I was just going to say that Mr. … er … I mean Blake already talked to me about helping you arrest Oliver. I must say, it's rather disconcerting to know that he may go to the gallows as a direct result of my involvement, but if, as you say, he has been conducting treasonous activities …”
“He has. I'm sure of it.”
Caroline frowned. “He is a despicable man. It was beastly enough of him to order Percy to attack me, but to endanger thousands of British soldiers … I cannot fathom it.”
James smiled slowly. “Practical and patriotic. You, Caroline Trent, are a prize.”
If only Blake thought so.
Caroline let her teacup clatter into its saucer. She didn't like the direction her thoughts were taking regarding Blake Ravenscroft.
“Ah, look,” James said, standing up rather suddenly. “Our errant host returns.”
“I beg your pardon?”
James gestured toward the window. “He appears to have changed his mind. Perhaps he has decided our company is really not so bad as all that.”
“Or it might just be the rain,” Caroline retorted. “It has begun to drizzle.”
“So it has. Mother Nature is clearly on our side.”
A minute later Blake stalked into the drawing room, his dark hair damp. “Riverdale,” he barked, “I've been thinking about her.”
“She is in the room,” Caroline said dryly.
If Blake heard her he ignored her. “She's got to go.”
Before Caroline could protest, James had crossed his arms and said, “I disagree. Strongly.”
“It's too dangerous. I won't have a female risking her life.”
Caroline wasn't sure whether to be flattered or offended. She decided to side with “offended”—his views seemed to stem more from a poor opinion of the female gender as a whole than from any overwhelming concern for her well-being. “Don't you think that is my decision to make?” she put in.
“No,” Blake said, finally acknowledging her presence.
“Blake can be rather protective of women,” James said, almost as an aside.
Blake glared at him. “I won't have her getting killed.”
“She won't get killed,” James returned.
“And how do you know that?” Blake demanded.
James chuckled. “Because, my dear boy, I am confident that you won't allow it.”
“Don't patronize me,” Blake growled.
“My apologies for the ‘dear boy’ comment, but you know I speak the truth.”
