Page 157 of A Perilous Passion

Damn it! He was going to have to search the drawers. It felt wrong to be rooting through a lady’s small clothes, no matter how laudable the motive.

He approached the tallboy and had just pulled open the top drawer when he heard a sound in the hallway that sent his heart into his boots.

The chamber door opened.

Charlotte stood frozen with a hand on the door knob, her face a picture of astonishment.

Feeling like a schoolboy caught stealing cakes, he swung round and faced her in an agony of guilt, not knowing what to do or say.

“Are you looking for something?” she asked, and the ice in her voice made him feel even more wretched.

What could he possibly say to excuse the inexcusable?

All he managed was, “I didn’t expect you to come up so soon.”

Her glare was glacial. “I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you. I came to fetch some scissors—the stems of the wallflowers are rather tough. Perhaps you would favor me with an explanation of why you are here.”

“Forgive me, Charlotte. I was just…” He thought frantically. “I was just looking for a token to remember you by, as our paths may not cross again for a long time.”

She actually snorted. “Flim flam! You’re too unromantic for keepsakes—a pragmatic man who does nothing without practical motive. Besides, if you really wanted a keepsake, you’re more than capable of asking for one.” She shook her head. “No. You were after something else. Please don’t insult my intelligence any further, Rafe. Tell me what it is.”

She was right, of course.

He’d been in the spy business too long, and clearly had forgotten how to have faith in people. If he asked her outright about the letter, he’d just have to trust the veracity of her answer. She had not, in any of their dealings to date, given him reason to doubt her. Well, other than concealing the truth of her parentage, which he’d yet to find hard evidence for.

“I was looking for the letter,” he confessed. “The one you received yesterday that so overset you.”

She blinked rapidly, then drew herself up. “Because you’re concerned for my welfare? Or because you think it’s some secret correspondence that proves me a traitor to my country?”

He held out his hands in supplication. “God, no. Please, it was foolish of me. I should have just asked you what it was about.”

He’d rather face a line of French riflemen than Charlotte’s accusing glare.

“I don’t see that my private letters are any of your business. Nor are they the business of the kingdom, the army, the navy, the militia, or anybody else. You should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself, Lord Beckport.”

Ashamed barely covered it. If the floorboards could have given way beneath him, he’d gladly have fallen through the hole.

But a small part of his mind still nagged at him…

She still hadn’t told him what the letter contained. What was she hiding?

“I’m sorry. My mission is foremost in my mind and I feel I’ve lost valuable time. If you would only tell me what the letter is about, I can be easy.”

Her glare grew even more Arctic. “By what authority do you ask for the contents of my letters? Seriously, Rafe, we’ve taken you in, patched you up, and risked our own safety for you. I’ve even lied to my family to cover for you. And you repay me with suspicion? I’m not impressed, not impressed, at all. I thought we were friends, but I see that’s impossible, for how can there be friendship where there’s no trust?”

Agony sliced through his heart at her frosty condemnation. “Charlotte, please believe me, I am your friend. I do care for your welfare, and I hate to see you upset. If there’s anything I can do to alleviate the problem that letter has presented you with, you have only to ask.”

“Pray don’t trouble yourself on my account,” was the harsh response. “I think it best you leave my room before Mama discovers you here. She’s torn a strip off you once and won’t fail to do so again, no matter how important you are, or how heroic you’ve been. And this time, she’ll be more than justified.”

She swept past him to the tallboy and slammed the drawer shut, then angrily rattled things around on the dressing table before swiping up a pair of scissors, which she waved menacingly in the air.

As she was now firmly stationed between him and the tallboy, he had no alternative but to retreat. Her disapproval felt like a knife between the shoulder blades as he approached the door.

He hated that he’d upset her. It felt as if he’d just kicked a loyal puppy.

As he let himself out onto the landing, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. So much for that relationship.

Perhaps it was just as well they should part enemies rather than friends. He was grateful for all she’d done, but the delicious Miss Charlotte Allston had proved too a great distraction to him. He was making mistakes.