Page 34 of Lord of Mistrust

“What ails you? Not caught a chill from being bound in that damp mill, I hope?”

“Nay.” She flushed, averting her face. “Just a bit of dust from the road, I expect.”

Robert glanced at the sky, and she stole a glance at his handsome profile. How easy it was to love him. How desperately difficult, too—she knew so little about the man.

“We’re going to take a shortcut through this wood,” he told her. “I don’t like the look of that grey cloud bank heading our way. If it rains, the trees will at least give us a little shelter.”

As she turned her mount off the road, Chloe discovered that the trees grew so close to the path, it wasn’t safe to ride three abreast. Robert elected to remain at her side, forcing Tilshead to take up the rear.

“How do you fare? Are you warm enough? You look worried.”

Nay, just full of yearnings she was struggling to control. He probably shouldn’t have kissed her. She probably shouldn’t have let him.

He edged his horse closer. “Have no fear. Do you smell that smoke?”

She nodded.

“That is the smell of a charcoal burner’s fire. And you can see all around you the heaps of hazel wands and logs. These woods are well-managed, and full of normal men going about their business. No brigands or traitors here. You’re perfectly safe.”

She returned his smile, and saw his eyes soften. Mayhap now would be a good moment to question him.

“Tell me about these traitors, and about Walsingham. You promised that you would.”

“And a gentleman never goes back on his word, does he?” Robert’s eyes sparkled, sending a delicious shiver up her spine. “I cannot tell all, however, as the information I have is of huge import. You already know, I’m sure, of the schemes devised to topple Elizabeth from the throne. The Ridolfi and Throckmorton plots posed the greatest threats, since foreign powers were invited to intervene. No patriotic Englishman—or woman—would want to see French or Spanish troops rampaging around the country.”

Chloe nodded her understanding. “Is the plot you’re dealing with of similar importance?”

“Alas, I cannot tell you that. I ought not, even though I know you can be trusted.”

“But it involves the Spanish, for sure. I recognized the accent.”

He pressed a finger to his lips and held her gaze. “Pray speak not of that, to anyone but me, Whiteley or Tilshead. It would not do to panic the populace.”

Robert’s mission must be vital, indeed. Surely, if he told her more, she could help?

“So, what is your role in all this? Are you a spy, a messenger, or a soldier?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes, it seems I am all three. But when you met me in Southampton, my role was principally that of messenger. I cannot have been as circumspect as I’d hoped, since our enemies evidently knew my identity and stole my dispatch. I deeply regret that I gave them any cause to imagine that you were involved with me. You would be safely back with your family by now had I acted differently, had I trusted you and taken you at your word. I fear I am my own worst enemy.”

“But there are still things you can do to stop those traitors, aren’t there?” He’d shown himself a courageous and resourceful man. He must have some plan of action.

“There are, but I won’t endanger you further by telling you anything more—you’re too precious to me. I pray, ask no further questions, my dove. We are coming back onto the road now, and who knows who might overhear us? But be assured—Walsingham is a clever man, and his agents are willing to risk their lives for him, and in the cause of our queen. No further harm will come to you.”

At that moment, their path rejoined the highway, and Tilshead rode up beside them. The opportunity for more questioning—or for any further indication of Robert’s feelings—was lost.

Whiteley rendezvoused with their party shortly before they reached Chloe’s home in Moorgate. He entered into a heated discussion with both Robert and Master Tilshead from which she was, to her annoyance, excluded. As a result of this, it was Robert and Master Whiteley who accompanied her home, while Tilshead headed off to fulfill his duties.

Chloe’s mind had worked feverishly during the rest of the long journey back to London. There were some challenging tasks ahead of her—she must soothe the ruffled feathers of her aunt and uncle and confess she’d met her mother and knew her sire’s identity. She must also admit to having had a couple of hair-raising adventures in the company of Sir Robert Mallory. All of these revelations had to be made without revealing any state secrets.

The explanations she needed to give to her astonished but relieved guardians ought to be accomplished with a serious and penitential mien. This would be the hardest thing to achieve, however, since Robert’s kiss had elevated her to another plane of existence. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, nor his enticing, glorious nakedness. She’d been through so much and survived, that she now felt more alive, more confident, and more certain of what she wanted. This made it a struggle to wipe the smile off her face and look duly chastened when she embraced her aunt and uncle.

Having introduced himself and Master Whiteley, Robert took up the story, leaving out the more salacious details, of course. Between them, the gentlemen managed to play down the degree of peril in which she’d been placed, and give the impression that they—and their helpers—had always been in command of the situation.

Aunt Philippa and Uncle Matthew were left—Chloe hoped—with the understanding that she’d made a foolish journey to see her mother, but had fortuitously met the noble Sir Robert, who’d appointed himself her protector. No mention was made of traitors, spies, recusants, or Mary, Queen of Scots, and the villains who’d abducted Chloe were reduced to the status of regular footpads.

Aunt Philippa fanned her face with her hands. “My heavens! I’m quite overcome. Best we finish this in the garden—I need air, gentlemen, if you please.”

Chloe dutifully stepped forward to take Philippa’s elbow, helping her outside and through the arched gateway to the walled garden. She settled her aunt onto a bench and indicated a couple of turf seats for the gentlemen.