Page 24 of When the Duke Met His Match

Disbelief scattered across her face and made her blink back at him, watching as he looked under the table and reached beneath it. She was too stunned to form the suitable questions that should’ve been asked at that moment.

He pulled out a big bag and dropped it on the table. Unclasping it, he retrieved a uniform like his own. He handed it to Odette.

“Put this on,” he murmured when she didn’t take it right away. “It will draw less attention to us when we go.”

She took it gingerly and looked down at the navy blue uniform in her hands. She unraveled the trousers first and noticed how much extra material there was. She furrowed her brows at him. “This is two sizes too big.”

Theophilus gave her a sarcastic look. “My sincerest apologies, I didn’t exactly have the time to stop at the modiste while I was planning your escape.”

She narrowed her eyes at him in return, but he shrugged her off and passed the matching cap over. “We don’t have time. Put this on.”

Odette hesitated as she gazed at the officer before her, who was surely making a grave mistake or perhaps trying to trick her. She whispered, “Why are you doing this for me?”

He stopped rifling through the bag and met her eyes, his gaze softening the moment there was a small invisible pull between them. “They are going to ship you out to France tomorrow. I can’t stand by and let that happen.”

Color dusted her cheeks as if that declaration was a confession in itself, and she swallowed against the lump in her throat. Between the thought of being sent away without much notice and the way he was willing to throw his life to the wind for her, her skin tingled with that familiar uncertainty.

“Why?” she asked again.

She asked a straightforward question, but it carried a weight of emotions - fear, curiosity, and a desire to abandon caution and fully embrace her feelings for him. Whatever decision she made, there would be no turning back.

Theophilus moved closer to her, studying her face with tenderness and admiration. He gently touched her cheek and asked, "What do you think?"

The pink in her cheeks deepened, and her heart pounded in her chest. The proximity of his face to hers filled her head with a pleasant haze, yet she tried to shake it away. She grasped for the words that crawled to the surface. “You will be branded a traitor, and they will never stop coming after us. You will be treated no better than I am. This is madness, Theophilus.”

While she wanted to appear outraged by his willingness to abandon everything he knew and loved for a traitor girl, the careful stroke of his thumb against her cheek made her melt into him.

He looked down at her like she was worth abandoning his comforts and responsibilities to be with. “I don’t care.”

His mouth parted as if he had more to say, but nothing else came out. Instead, he searched her eyes and made Odette wonder what he was thinking.

The small distance between them was dizzying, yet it became almost suffocating the moment Theophilus pulled her even closer and brushed his thumb against her lower lip. The breath was stolen from her chest, and she tried her hardest not to completely collapse beneath him.

Despite being on opposing sides, she had never felt so drawn to anyone before, especially not to a man she was supposed to hate. He couldn't understand the pain of losing what she had lost.

It made her curious as to why he was willing to risk his own life to save hers. After all, she was just a prisoner, seen as a criminal and a traitor to the English crown. She had even funded his enemies and fought against him at every turn.

She refused to give in to his interrogations and give up her countrymen, yet it seemed there was no way to avoid surrendering herself to the deepest longings of her heart.

He was mere inches away from her lips, so close that she could almost feel the soft pressure of his mouth on hers already. The tension between them was tangible and gut-wrenching. She wanted nothing more than his most passionate touch before her impatience could get the best of her.

A scuffle outside the small room made Theophilus retract his touch and pull away, his eyes wide from the reality set out before them. He swallowed hard, mirroring her frantic expression.

Odette nearly crumbled from the lack of his touch, but she urged herself to forget about it. There were more pressing matters to attend to.

“Get dressed. We only get one shot at this,” he murmured, turning his back to offer her enough privacy to swap her clothes.

Sighing, she stepped into the trousers, shimmied them up her legs, and pulled her old dress over her head. It was a relief to pull on clothes that didn’t smell like body odor and old straw.

While she continued to get ready, noting just how baggy the uniform truly was, she couldn’t ignore how the garments smelled heavily of Theophilus and his familiar scent. It was an added comfort she would surely need while they slipped out of prison.

Somewhat soothed by the thought and accompanied by the man she’d slowly begun to trust, Odette took a deep breath and gathered herself.

As he said, they only had one chance. Their lives depended on it.

Chapter Fourteen

THEOPHILUS