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Even after thanking Mr. Shellings several more times for the tour and his counsel, Gwen was reluctant to leave the orphanage. It wasn’t just how impressed she’d been by the facilities, either. The handful of children she’d met had reminded her of those back home at Heartwell House, and she didn’t want to say goodbye.
“We can come again,” Avery reassured her as they ventured back into the chaos beyond the orphanage walls.
Gwen nodded with grateful relief. “I’d like that.” She cast a final glance at the orphanage before facing forward again. “Did you enjoy the tour?”
For reasons she didn’t want to identify yet, she hoped Avery had enjoyed himself as much as she had. Especially after seeing him talking with one of the boys with such ease and comfort that it seemed as though the two of them had known each other for years. It was in that moment Gwen realized with a heartfelt pang that Avery Winfield would make a wonderful father someday. If only he were willing to risk his heart.
“I enjoyed it very much.” His smile held nothing but sincerity.
“What were you and that boy Edmund talking about?” Hopefully her question wouldn’t reveal she’d been paying as much attention to him as she had to listening to Mr. Shellings.
Avery shrugged and glanced away. “Nothing much.”
“Who’s not being forthright now?” she teased.
He chuckled, but he still looked slightly embarrassed. “All right. If you must know, we were having a rousing discussion on . . . religion.”
It was Gwen’s turn to laugh. Only Avery didn’t join her. “Oh. You actually did talk about religion?”
“We did.” The chagrin in his expression changed to thoughtfulness. “Edmund is rather wise for his age. Sort of like someone else I know.” He threw her a meaningful glance, his brown eyes gleaming with amusement. “He answered all of my questions with aplomb, and I promise you I was not interrogating him. The boy started the questioning.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.” His arched look inspired another light laugh from her. “Honestly. You both looked as if you were enjoying your conversation.”
When they reached the main street, Gwen allowed herself to draw in a full breath. The air wasn’t crisp and clean here either, but at least it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been closer to the orphanage.
“Will you tell me what you and Edmund said?” She genuinely wanted to know, especially after seeing the intense contemplation on Avery’s face as he’d spoken with the boy.
He regarded with a kind expression. “I will someday soon, Gwen. I promise. Right now, though, I want to show you the boat traffic on the Thames.”
She felt only a flicker of disappointment. After all, Avery had promised to tell her soon—and she trusted him to keep his word.
“To the boats, then,” she said, giving him a smile.
Truthfully, she didn’t care what she and Avery talked about or where they walked. She simply enjoyed being with him—and not just to report what she’d discovered about Mr. Hanbury, though she’d been bursting to share that information for days. More than that, she’d greatly missed time alone with him and the way he encouraged her to be herself.
“Edmund does remind me of myself as a boy.”
Gwen raised her eyebrows. “Really? In what way?”
Avery shared a few stories from his boyish adventures on his family’s estate as he led the way toward the nearest bank of the famous river. It wasn’t Gwen’s first glimpse of the Thames, but it certainly felt different viewing it up close, at her own pace and not from inside a carriage. Vessels large and small moved along the water’s surface or sat moored along the various docks. Workers transferred cargo from ship to shore or loaded the boats with freight bound for other ports. The sounds and smells were nearly as overpowering to Gwen’s senses as those by the buildings and alleyways near the orphanage.
“It reminds me a little of home.”
Avery glanced at her. “Do you miss New York?”
“I miss my father and I miss being at Heartwell House.”
“And yet . . .”
Gwen wasn’t surprised he’d heard her hesitation. “There’s a lot about London that I’ve come to enjoy too. More than I thought possible.” Especially her time with him.
“I’m glad you’re here, Gwen.”
The intensity in his gaze was as welcome as it was confusing. “Because I’m such a good”—she lowered her voice—“spy?”
“That isn’t what I meant,” he said, his voice devoid of any teasing.
How she longed to ask what he did mean. But doing so would only drudge up hopes and expectations that would not be met. Instead she had to keep things light between them. It was the only way she could be with Avery and not get caught up in the emotions he stirred inside her.
“Let’s take a look at that large ship there.” She gestured a short distance down the waterfront.
To her relief, he didn’t argue or try to press his point further. He simply fell into step beside her, matching her pace with his own. Unlike many others, Avery never showed any sign of impatience at her limping walk. It was something else Gwen appreciated about him. Something else that made it difficult not to feel more than friendship for him.
They were nearly to the ship when Avery abruptly stopped and looked back the way they’d come. “Do you recognize that carriage?”
“Which carriage?” Her gaze had been on the boats and the river—at least when it wasn’t surreptitiously on Avery.
He frowned. “It turned the corner, but I thought it looked like Lord Whitson’s.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug and motioned for Gwen to continue. “Likely my mistake. I can’t think of any reason the earl would be driving around down here.”
The ship was even more impressive up close than it had been down the wharf. “Have you ever travelled beyond England?”
Avery shook his head. “I haven’t, no.”
“Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”
His expression turned reflective. “To the Continent, perhaps. Maybe even New York.”
“Oh, really?” At his emphatic nod, she laughed. “If you ever do, I’d love to show you around the city.”
The merriment faded from his handsome features. “If you marry a titled English gentleman, as your mother wishes, you won’t be in New York to show me around.”
“You’re right,” Gwen conceded, the admission bitter on her tongue.
She looked away, unable to face whatever she might see in his eyes at that moment. Across the street, she caught sight of a familiar lean figure, strolling in the direction she and Avery had just come. “Avery, look. Isn’t that Mr. Hanbury?”
“Will you look at that?” He grinned. “I imagine there’s reason for his interest in the river traffic, and it doesn’t stem from nostalgia.” Avery grasped her elbow and stepped into the street. “Let’s follow him.”
A thrill shot through Gwen, though it may have been as much at Avery’s touch as doing something as spy-like as trailing a suspect. “You think he’s gathering information?”
“I do.” Avery led her to the opposite side of the street before releasing her arm. “We’ll stay far enough behind that he shouldn’t notice us but close enough to observe his movements.”
Gwen gave a quick nod and kept her gaze trained on Mr. Hanbury’s back. The man stopped after a minute or two, forcing her and Avery to stop too. Gwen’s heartbeat ricocheted inside her chest. Had Mr. Hanbury seen or heard them behind him? But no, he didn’t turn around, and he seemed more interested in the nearby vessels than anything or anyone else. Could he truly be making mental notes to aid Germany? She didn’t want to believe it of the quiet man, and yet he had a great many reasons to help his native country.
When Mr. Hanbury began walking again, she and Avery did the same. The pattern of starting and stopping repeated itself several more times. Each time, Gwen feigned interest in the sights around her, though she’d already seen this stretch of river. No one would likely guess she and Avery were keenly interested in the comings and goings of a certain gentleman ahead of them.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Mr. Hanbury turned up a side street. “Hurry,” Avery said quietly. “We don’t want to lose him.”
Gwen did her best to pick up her feet, but her limp still hampered her speed. “Why don’t you go ahead and see if you can spot him at the corner? I’ll be right behind you.”
“Are you sure?” He hesitated until she waved him forward.
“Go. I’m coming.”
Avery rushed up the street and soon disappeared around the corner. Gwen limped after him as quickly as she dared. Her foot had already started to ache even before she’d tried to hurry. She paused to rest beside a building that formed one wall of a narrow alleyway. Spy work was certainly not for the faint of heart—or foot. A wry smile lifted Gwen’s lips as she pushed away from the building and started walking again. Hopefully her pace hadn’t prevented Avery from catching up with Mr. Hanbury.
As she prepared to turn the corner, a person sprinted around it and bowled into her. Gwen reached out to steady herself. “I’m so sorry, Gwen.” Avery’s arms gripped hers and prevented her from crashing into someone or something else.
“What’s wrong?”
His face held none of its earlier confidence. “I lost Mr. Hanbury.”
“Oh no. Is there a way—”
Grabbing her hand, Avery tugged her forward before she could finish her sentence. “That’s not the problem, at least not right now.”
“What is the problem then?” Each smack of her shoe against the street sent pain up her left leg as she struggled to keep up with him.
He threw a frantic look over his shoulder without slowing his pace. “I believe our ruse is up. Mr. Hanbury must have seen me—or us. I don’t know. But we’re the ones being followed now.”
“What?” Her pulse raced wildly with panic. “By who?”
“A pair of miscreants with knives.”
Her fear expanded as she stumbled. “Avery, I can’t walk that fast.” She glanced back the way they’d come, but she didn’t know whose faces she needed to fear seeing. “You’ll never outrun them with me at your side. If you go on ahead, perhaps they’ll leave me—”
“I won’t leave you here alone, Gwen.”
The firmness in his tone and the determined set of his jaw brought her a glimmer of relief. She wouldn’t be forced to deal with whatever was coming on her own. “Then what do we do?”
“We’ll try and elude them another way.”
He squeezed her hand, then led her into the same alleyway she’d rested alongside earlier. However, a wall of bricks blocked their escape in that direction. Gwen let go of Avery and rattled one of the door handles. “It’s locked!”
“So is this one,” Avery said, his expression more grim than she’d ever seen it.
He eyed the street behind her, but Gwen didn’t need to turn around. Any moment now, the men with knives would find them standing here, helpless and trapped.
Gwen sent a short but earnest prayer heavenward before Avery grasped her shoulders. “I have an idea.” He drew her closer to the wall, her back still to the street behind them. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she whispered without hesitation.
Dipping his head in a somber nod, Avery held her gaze as he settled his hands on either side of her waist. Then he brushed her lips with his own. Surprise and pleasure tumbled through Gwen. Though featherlike, the kiss still had the power to commandeer her pulse and cause it to trip with something entirely different from the alarm of moments ago.
How long had she imagined kissing Avery? For some time now.
The breathless feeling inside her grew and blossomed as Avery kissed her again, with gentle fervor this time. Fear fled Gwen’s thoughts. She wound her hands around Avery’s neck and let herself fall into the shared kiss. It felt new and exhilarating, yet at the same time, comforting and natural. Underpinning everything was a strong sense of familiarity too—as if this weren’t the first time they had kissed.
When Avery inched back, his masculine mouth still a hairsbreadth away, Gwen wasn’t sure if five minutes or five hours had passed. “Gwen,” he said softly as if her name were the most precious utterance he could voice.
“Yes?” Would her heart ever beat at a steady rhythm after today, after such a kiss?
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I . . .”
At a shout from the street, Avery lifted his head and peered past her. “I believe they’re gone.”
“Gone?” The word slipped out before her thoughts caught back up with her. The moment they did, she blushed with embarrassment. He was talking about their pursuers, the ones with knives and ill intent.
Avery smiled and stroked her cheek. “Yes, we successfully eluded them. We should be safe now.”
The pleasure she’d felt at his touch, at their kiss, splintered as reality crashed upon her. Avery had kissed her as a means to hiding them from their assailants. Not because he’d been longing to kiss her.
It was a brilliant plan, really. No one would suspect the couple locked in an affectionate embrace inside the alleyway to be a man and woman fleeing for their lives. And yet Gwen couldn’t be the only one who’d felt the wonder, the rightness, the familiarity of their kiss. Not since the night of the opera had she experienced such a strong connection to another person . . .
No. Gwen fell back a step, unable to meet Avery’s gaze now.
He couldn’t be the injured man from the box. She’d asked Avery to help her learn the identity of that man and he had said nothing. He would have told her if it was him, wouldn’t he? But the more Gwen considered it, the more it made perfect sense that he and her mystery gentleman were the same person.
What kind of man sustained a knife wound while attending the opera? A spy intent on finding other spies. She also hadn’t met Avery after that performance, but she had met Mr. Hanbury. Gwen pressed her back against the rough wall of the alley, her hand massaging her temples. Confusion eroded her strength and the loveliness of their kiss. Their second kiss.
“Gwen, are you all right?”
She managed a wordless nod, unable to answer out loud.
“We aren’t in danger of them finding us anymore.” When she didn’t react to his obvious attempt at comfort, he added, “I can see if they’re gone, if that would help.”
He believed she still feared their assailants, and Gwen didn’t bother to correct him. Besides, now that the frightening ordeal was over, she felt shaky with the frenzied energy of their escape.
Avery strode past her to peer out the alley’s opening. After a moment, he turned toward her. “I don’t see them. We can go meet the carriage now.”
Nodding, Gwen pushed away from the wall. She folded her arms against a shiver as she walked slowly toward Avery. “I—I’m coming,” she said through her chattering teeth.
“You’re cold.” He approached her and, wrapping her in his arms, held her tightly against him. Warmth seeped pleasantly into her, and Gwen welcomed it. Whatever his true feelings for her, Avery had broken no promise regarding a future together. He’d been honest with her about his feelings toward courtship and marriage. He’d also likely saved their lives today. For all of those things, she could be grateful.
“Th-thank you.”
His chin rested lightly against her hair. “You have nothing to thank me for.” His tone was full of censure, but she sensed it was at himself. “I’m sorry, Gwen.”
“For kissing me?” she couldn’t help asking. She shifted so she could see his face, though she hated the thought of seeing the regret in his brown eyes.
“What? No.” Avery frowned. “I wasn’t apologizing for that.”
She glanced away in confusion. “You mean you don’t regret kissing me?”
“Seeing as it kept you safe, I don’t regret it for a moment.” He waited for her to look at him again, and when she did, a gentle smile lifted his fine mouth. “Truth be told, I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since . . . Well, for a while now.”
His admission soothed her disappointment, and yet it couldn’t mollify it completely. Gwen wanted more from him than friendship and stolen kisses. She wanted a commitment she knew he’d never give. But even if she couldn’t have that, she at least wanted him to tell her himself that he was the man she’d helped in the opera box.
For a moment, she considered asking him outright if it had been him, but there must be a reason Avery hadn’t yet shared the truth with her. And for now, she would respect his wish for anonymity.
“Then what are you apologizing for?”
Avery rubbed her sleeves with his hands. “For dragging you along to follow Hanbury and nearly being accosted by armed ruffians. And for assuring you that you wouldn’t be in danger by helping me.”
“I agreed to help you spy and to follow Mr. Hanbury, Avery.”
“Be that as it may, I don’t think you should go anywhere with him alone. Not even with your mother accompanying the two of you.”
Gwen was more than willing to concede to that plan. She didn’t wish to be alone with Mr. Hanbury either. “I won’t. Do you still need me to gather information on him?”
His hands stilled on her forearms, his expression somber. “No. There’s still a chance that Hanbury saw you with me, and you questioning him might make him respond . . . unpredictably. But even if he didn’t see you, I think it’s best if you don’t make any inquiries of him or anyone else for the next week.”
“All right.” She nodded. “I suppose we don’t need to meet to exchange information, then. At least for a while.”
Avery looked surprised. “We could still meet as friends, couldn’t we?”
Before she could answer, he released her and ran his hand through his hair. Somewhere in the shuffle earlier, he’d lost his hat. “I know I kissed you, Gwen, and I meant it when I said I don’t regret doing so. My only regret is that there wasn’t time to ask for your permission.” Agitation saturated his entire demeanor as he paced beside the opening of the alleyway. “In light of that, I understand if you no longer wish to be friends.”
“We’re still friends, Avery,” Gwen said, stopping his distressed movements with a hand to his arm.
She only wished she could feel the same relief that lit his handsome face. “Thank you. Shall we go?” He held out his hand to her.
“Yes.” She locked her fingers with his. Proper or not, she needed the tangible reminder that she was well and safe, and she guessed Avery did too.
As she followed him back toward the direction of the orphanage, she struggled to keep her threatening tears at bay. She and Avery might still be friends, but everything else had changed for Gwen. Her hopes and dreams of a love match with the man from the opera would remain just that—a dream. Even though she was now certain of his identity, he would remain as unreachable and mysterious as he’d been that night. A man who had captured the feelings of her heart but who would never be free to return them.