Blake took in Lucy’s exhausted and relaxed form. He loved the feel of her in his arms. “You never told me where you were headed earlier.”
She jumped up and began donning her clothes and fixing her coiffure. “Oh my, I totally forgot. I have to go to the Lone Dove right away.” Gone was the lethargic woman, and before him stood a determined Lucy.
He leisurely sat up and searched for his shirt, waistcoat, and jacket. “The Lone Dove? Isn’t that a tavern?” he asked and then added, “Lucy, you are not going there alone.”
She gave him a look that should have him cowering. Apparently, she did not care for his tone or edict. “John and Evan are to accompany me. I never go to that part of Town without them. I’m not a ninny.”
Blake captured Lucy’s face between his large hands and kissed her nose. Releasing her, he said, “We are to marry, so let me be perfectly clear. First, I would never consider you a ninny. You are the smartest person I know, without a doubt.” He gave her another quick kiss on the forehead this time and continued, “Second, it will be entirely up to you if you continue to have an association with the Home Office.”
Yes, to have a life with this woman and the challenge of eliciting the look that graced Lucy’s features at the mention of the Home Office was all he needed.
“Third, I love you, and I will always be by your side, so if you are off to the Lone Dove, I’m going with you.”
“Did you just say you love me?” she asked, a little dazed.
“Yes, with all my heart.” Blake was so happy he had at last admitted his feelings. While he had hoped she would return the sentiment, he was well aware she was still in shock. Taking in her appearance, he turned her around so he could do her buttons and tie her laces.
“Blake, you need to pull them tighter,” Lucy said as he left her laces loose.
“Tighter? How are you able to breathe with ease and move about? Wouldn’t it be better to have them a little loose?”
Lucy turned and purposefully rolled her shoulders, allowing the loose gown to gape. Wide-eyed, Blake turned her once more and promptly pulled her laces tight.
“Blake! Now I can’t breathe. Oh, good heavens, where is Carrington?”
Blake released his stranglehold on her laces. “Please take a deep breath so I can determine the correct tension.” With a frown, he finished his task and gently placed his hand on her elbow and guided her to the door. “Shall we be off?”
At her hesitation, he said, “I’m going with you, and that is how it shall be, always with me at your side.”
He escorted her to the awaiting carriage, and he rapped on the roof of the carriage to indicate they were ready to leave. As the carriage lurched forward, Lucy was jolted into Blake’s side. Putting his arm around her, he turned to look at her and smiled. He liked what he saw, a woman who had the look of having been thoroughly satisfied in bed, her lips swollen from his kisses and her eyes still a little glazed over. He couldn’t help but be a tad proud of himself for being the one to make her feel that way.
He leaned closer to her and asked, “Are you feeling all right, my sweet?”
“Yes. I’m trying to process everything. Did you say that should I decide I wanted to continue to work with the Home Office, you would support and respect my choice? That once you are my husband, you will not dictate or forbid me from choosing? Did you say I was the smartest person you know?”
Blake grinned and quietly whispered, “Yes.”
Lucy reached out and pinched him hard on the arm.
“Ouch! What did you do that for?” Blake rubbed his arm and then twisted so she faced him again.
“This must be a dream. A man willingly giving me all the freedoms I’ve ever wished for who still wants to marry me. You cannot exist. I’ve never heard of a man being so reasonable.” She put her forehead to his and took a deep breath. “This is just too good to be real. Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming.”
A multitude of images of pinching her in various places raced through his mind, but Blake decided to just playfully pinch her waist.
Lucy sighed. “You are real, and I am going to do everything to make you happy, as happy as you make me.”
Her declaration was music to Blake’s ears, and the only thing that would have made it perfect was if she had admitted she loved him too.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Lone Dove. Blake exited first and then turned to help Lucy down. They made their way into the inn and to a table in the back.
As they walked, Lucy glanced around the room, and then her eyes rested on the man in the corner holding a cup with a red handle to indicate he was the one she sought out. The man became visibly nervous when he noticed Blake with her.
Lucy swiftly said, “I need to meet with my associate privately before he leaves. Please wait here.”
Blake nodded and remained seated. To Lucy’s surprise, he made no complaint about her leaving his side. There had been a flash of recognition in Blake’s eyes. Did he know her contact? Uncertain if the missive requesting this meeting had been issued by the Home or Foreign Office, she was highly suspect of the man.
She made her way along the back wall to the corner. At seeing her approach alone, her contact had remained in place. She nodded to several of the tavern’s occupants as she passed them. They were all friends and would no doubt come to her assistance if need be.
As soon as Lucy was close enough, her contact spoke in a rushed voice. “Lady Lucy, I’ve been asked to establish contact with you regarding your brother.”
Matthew. Was he hurt? Fear of what the contact might share had her sitting abruptly in the chair next to the man.
“Your brother has sent word that he believes Lord Devonton was captured to assist in completing a map of sorts. Lord Harrington anticipates he will be remaining on the Continent for an extended period as he hunts Addington down.”
Matthew had confirmed what she and Blake had been able to decipher upon their voyage. By remaining on the Continent, he was placing himself at risk. How had Archbroke known?
Breaking her train of thought, the informant said, “My superior is fully aware of the burden this will place upon you. I have been assigned to act as your steward and assist you in whatever manner is deemed necessary during his absence.” He was definitely from the Foreign Office. Archbroke would have handled the matter in an entirely different manner.
Not knowing who exactly she was dealing with, she questioned the real intent of the offer. Lucy was not at all familiar with practices or internal operations of the Foreign Office. She had on occasion heard various Home Office agents speaking about the Foreign Office, but mostly they were grumblings as to the obscurity of its leader. She also recalled Matthew’s comment that the two offices sometimes did not agree on a mission strategy.
With a smile plastered on her face, which was contrary to the steel edge in her voice, she informed her contact, “Please thank your superior for the offer. However, I will decline assistance at this time. My brother has many extremely competent stewards already in place to oversee the estate, and I have acted on his behalf in the past and will have no issue doing so again. Please advise your superior I do expect updates and direct correspondence from Matthew during his time abroad—not details, just reassurance of his health and well-being. I trust you will be able to convey my message accurately.”
“Yes, Lady Lucy. Should you ever need my assistance, please do not hesitate to leave a message for me here addressed to Mr. Atkins. If there is nothing else I can do, I bid you a good evening.”
“Good evening, Mr. Atkins.”
Her eyes narrowed as she made her way back to Blake. He had revealed his knowledge of her association with the Home Office, yet he had not confirmed his association with the Foreign Office. She should confront Blake. She had to trust he would tell her the truth. If she didn’t trust him, she should not be marrying the man. If she wished to continue to work for the Home Office and he the Foreign Office, could a marriage between them thrive? She feared the answer. It had prevented her from asking him directly in the past. Would she have to choose between the work she loved and the man who fulfilled all her wishes?
As Lucy cautiously approached, a range of emotions flashed across her features. Was she agonizing over Mr. Atkins and his message?
What concerned Blake the most was the looks of uncertainty in his direction while she had spoken to Mr. Atkins. Since he was aware of her work for the Home Office, it was only fair he should inform her of his association with the Foreign Office; he was just not sure of how best to approach the topic.
Lucy stood next to the table. When Blake pushed out the chair opposite him with his foot, she stared at the seat and then her mouth fell open. He definitely liked it when he took her by surprise. He wasn’t one to always follow convention, and Lucy had an independent streak he loved and would encourage. Anticipating her needs and desires would be challenging, especially if he wished to do so before she even expressed them.
“I t has been a long day, but I do believe I feel like celebrating our betrothal. Let’s have a drink before we leave. Would you care to celebrate with me?”
She slid into the chair and braced her elbows on the table, steepling her fingers together. “Is this what life will be like with you? Constantly surprising me to the point that I become speechless?”
“Perhaps. What will it be, scotch, brandy, or perhaps sherry?” Blake had raised his hand to get the attention of the serving maid.
“Brandy.” The woman was bold, and he loved her for it. He could foresee their marriage would be a happy one. It would be imperative for him to remember to always treat her as an equal, a true life partner, not just a possession.
After Blake had ordered her a brandy and a scotch for himself, he leaned back in his chair and turned to face her. “So, Lucy, what did Mr. Atkins want?”
Eyes narrowed, Lucy asked, “How are you acquainted with Mr. Atkins?”
Would she ask him directly to confirm his association with the Foreign Office? No, she would be circumspect. Blake retorted, “Are you always going to answer my questions with a question?”
“Are you?”
Catching her gaze, Blake answered, “I believe we both belong to the same association.”
Lucy nodded as if satisfied with his answer. What a smart girl to have figured out his connection to the Foreign Office.
She shared, “Mr. Atkins has been assigned to assist me with the estate should I need it while Matthew is on the Continent. He advised me that Matthew sent word while we were homeward bound that your trip was coordinated in an effort to establish a map.”
“I’m glad our theory was confirmed. Addington?”
The maid delivered their drinks. Lucy sipped on her brandy like it was a cup of chocolate. Before she brought it to her lips once more, she said, “Matthew is still hunting.”
Blake could count on Harrington to sort the matter out. The possibility that Lucy could be with child meant he had other immediate issues to tend to—getting her to the altar, quick.
His wife-to-be sat eyeing him over the rim of her glass, entirely in her element. She was more at ease here among a varied cast of tavern patrons than at any ton event where he had seen her. It may take more than one lifetime to determine what would bring Lucy the most joy.
But as Blake took mental pictures of his intended, he surveyed their surroundings. These people and her work were the keys to her happiness. Once they were married, they would just have to find a way to manage their individual associations and perhaps even bridge some of the animosity between the two critical government departments. For with one glance he was certain his lady would not be giving up her work with the Home Office anytime soon.