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Anna’s blood slowed and her knees threatened to buckle. “Oh?” Her voice wobbled, but she prayed he saw only the mock surprise she plastered to her expression.

He shifted his feet with a shrug. “Have you heard of this? I ask only because I should like to assist her father in bringing the woman to safety. As now I am on assignment away from the army, it gives me pleasure to help others as so many have done for me.”

“How kind of you.” The sounds that emerged were thin and flat. She remained frozen, her limbs so cold she could not find the strength to move them.

An easy smile etched across his face. “I shall be in town for a few days. If you hear of anything, would you be so kind as to send word?”

Anna’s strength continued to drain in waves. Her voice no longer worked at all. She nodded, struggling to force a smile at her lips.

He bowed low but his vision remained trained upon her. “I wish you good day.”

As he turned and strode back into the downpour, Anna’s spirit surged to life. She leaned back to rest her shoulders against the wood and closed her eyes. Foolish, foolish girl.

If only she had listened to William. She could only pray this encounter wouldn’t pull the thread that dangled between them, threatening to unravel the life they had built. If William knew what had happened he would surely never allow her to leave the house unaccompanied again. Worse, the admission would prove her foolishness and she couldn’t bear such a weight. ’Twas enough to admit within she had done wrong. No need to explain or worry her husband further.

With a heavy breath, she whirled and entered the printshop, fully knowing she could never keep such a thing within.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

William gripped the side of the building near where he crouched, squinting against the rain that flicked his face. A keg of rage ignited as he captured the image before him. From across the street he could discern Anna’s profile—and that of Paul Stockton’s.

William’s shoulders cramped. This could not possibly be mere chance. He rose from his haunches and whirled back, pressing against the side of the building. How long had Paul been in town? Had they known each other before or was this their first encounter?

Deep in the far corridors of his mind the whispering call of wisdom beckoned. You know her better than to believe she would betray you. She knows not even who you are.

He shook his head to disperse the seductive thought. Nay, never again would he be u

sed by a woman. Not when his very life and the lives of his friends were at risk of being party to the scheme. It would mean death for all of them. Paul would see to that.

Careful to keep well hidden, William peered around the corner and his pulse erupted like a volley of infantry fire. Both Paul and Anna had gone. The street was empty. Doubt collided with fear. What if Paul had taken her in those few moments he’d turned away?

Ignoring the driving need for stealth, William hurled from cover and dashed toward the spot where they had stood, the very sinew in his limbs pulsing hatred. He prayed with every stride his enemy would slink from the shadows, that Paul would show himself so this game could finally be ended. But he halted when Anna emerged from Thomas’s print shop.

He stood in the center of the road, puddles at his feet and rain drenching his clothes, while confusion and hurt drenched his spirit.

Anna clutched her cloak at her neck and bolted into the rain then stopped when she saw him, her mouth open and eyes wide. “William.” The large drops plunked on her red-cold cheeks.

He stared, fists round, struggling to calm the turbulent sea of emotion before he formed a reply. “Did you think I would let you come alone?”

She wriggled and looked away before answering. “I suppose I did. ’Twas wrong of me, forgive me.”

Humility laced her voice as a sheen of relief veiled her expression. What had happened? He expected the same indignant woman that had stormed from the house, but the droop of her shoulders and the peek of her lips read of distress more than deception.

He coiled his scorn around the foolishness she pursued in place of his wisdom, but the thin cords gripped as well as rope around a hill of sand. The recollection of his behavior smacked at his pride while his ever-growing affections for the woman with whom he shared a bed urged him to cease the construction of the redoubt between them. William ground his teeth. Could it be possible her seeming rendezvous was nothing more than an accidental meeting?

He offered his elbow, hoping the gesture would pull him from the depths of his thoughts, unprepared for the intensity of her grip. She glanced to him and waited a breath before initiating the return home, dragging him from the trench of darkness that gaped behind him.

She spoke, keeping her face forward. “Thomas was grateful for his supper as he has only half an hour before he is to meet the other Whigs at Fessenden’s Tavern.”

William’s neck corded, his vision trained on the puddles in the road. “The streets are quiet,” he bated, cautiously probing the secret he prayed she would reveal, but in the same thought, loathed to hear. “I suppose you spoke with no one, as I instructed you to do.”

He looked to her, noting the quick rise of her chest and the way her neck muscles twitched.

Pray, do not lie to me…

Anna shrugged and turned her head away, yet her hand gripped harder. The dual message in her unspoken answer tipped his ready accusation on edge. “So you encountered no one, then?” Tell me all.

She stopped and spun to peer up at him. Worry pinched her forehead in the middle and pulled her lips to a firm line. “I did see one man. Spoke with him.” She slammed her eyes shut. “William, I am a fool. I should have listened to you.”

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