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“Do I still have your word that you will keep my secret?” she asked, looking up at him with large green eyes.
“I do not even know what your secret is,” he replied, his gaze moving to her pert lips. He wanted to kiss her; he wanted to do more than that, but he had already done too much. He had gone against his principles and better judgment for a minute of pleasure with her, and it would cost him if he did not stop.
“And I cannot have you know it. Will you keep what happened tonight between us?”
“If you will allow me to return you home.”
She chuckled. “Must we always bargain, Rhys?”
He nodded and smiled. “Yes, we must.” She stood then, and something fell from her cloak. She did not see it as she moved to pick up her empty tumbler to pour more port, but Rhys immediately recognized the folded sheet to be a news sheet. He picked it up and discovered it was the piece Myers had written the day before. It should not surprise him that she had it with her, but everything about her tonight was suspicious, and he began to suspect Myers was the reason she was out at this time.
“Elizabeth,” he said, holding the sheet up as she turned. Her eyes immediately widened when she saw it, telling him that his suspicions might be correct. “Do you know Johnathan Myers?”
She swallowed but quickly composed herself and took the sheet from him. “No, but I am looking for him like everyone else.”
Rhys did not believe her. “Who was the tall man at the pier?” he asked again.
She turned away. “Please, do not make me tell you.”
“He is Johnathan Myers, is he not?” Rhys stood and placed his hand on her shoulders, turning her to face him. He had suspected she knew more than she had let on about Myers during their discussion in the carriage after her father had told them that some people were trying to discover Myers’ identity. She had looked concerned, and she wore that same expression now.
“Did you see his face?” she asked with a slight tremor in her voice.
“No, I did not,” he answered. “The two of you were not exactly standing beneath a lamp, so I could see your faces.”
Her still shoulders relaxed somewhat. “I help him with stories,” she confessed.
“Oh, my God, Elizabeth!” He shut his eyes for a moment. “That man is the most controversial man in England, and you work with him? Do you not fear his enemies?”
She shook her head emphatically. “He tells the world about my ideas and opinions. No one knows of my involvement.”
“Then you are more naive than I thought. England outwardly accepts him, but he has angered many. I know some lords that would want his blood.”
Her eyes widened, and her hand went to cover her mouth. “I did not know,” she whispered, sitting on the sofa.
“I would not expect you to, and I do not mean that in a condescending manner. You are a lady, and from what you have told me, your communication with him was mostly through Stella.”
She nodded. “You are right. I did not think that those he might have offended could be a danger to me.”
He went to sit beside her, taking one of her hands. “What you told me about him not recognizing you is false, is it not?”
“I thought I could trick you,” she said sheepishly, her lips curving into a smile.
“I am more clever than you think,” he replied.
She chuckled. “This sort of overbearing pride does not become you, Rhys.”
He raised his face and regarded her down his nose. “I rather think it does. How do I look?”
Elizabeth laughed and poked his arm. “Like a fool.”
He flinched and brought his hand to his chest. “Why do you wound me so?”
“Why do you stand in the path of fire?” She bit her lip to keep from laughing again but failed, and Rhys laughed with her. She was lovely when she was not spitting fire at him, and he could watch her without growing weary.
“Elizabeth,” he murmured. “Will you stop working with him?”
“I suppose I have to,” she whispered then sighed.
