Chapter Thirteen

"So what is your plan now?" Joyce asked.

Nate gave up trying to eat the thick porridge that was the texture of nearly hardened tar and just as edible. He shoved his spoon back into it and watched as it sat upright. Patience had taken to helping Joyce with meals and as much as he admired her perseverance, the results were not the easiest to digest.

"We wait," Patience declared.

He nearly choked on his toast. "Wait?"

"Yes."

"You"— he pointed at her —"wish to wait?"

"Yes." She frowned at him as though she could not understand his confusion.

Gone was the putrid pink dress and he hoped he would never set eyes on it again. In its place was the plain white shirt, slightly open at the collar and grey pantaloons. They did not hug her body quite as beautifully as breeches but they were a welcome relief from the eye-singeing gown.

Patience ignored his stare and turned her attention to Joyce. "Pauline has no other relatives, correct?"

Joyce nodded. "We know of no others and it seems these distant cousins are what's left of her family from her letters."

"Pauline is a woman used to a certain lifestyle. I do not believe she would simply run off and live off her wits."

"She might try to find another man to look after her," Nate pointed out.

"She might, but if I were her, I would rather connect with family, particularly after what happened last night. She would be fearful of being spotted again. It's easier to hide with family who know of her situation."

"So you think she shall go to her cousins?" Nate asked.

"But does she even know they're gone?"

Joyce shrugged. "Who can say?"

Patience nibbled on the end of her thumb. "If she has not come here yet, she must have concluded they are out of town and that the house is being let."

"So she will remain in Falmouth until they return."

Patience sent him a smile that had his heart beating oddly. "Precisely."

It was her hair that did it he concluded. She had left some of the curls in and it had a softer look. He wanted to tug on one of those curls like a naughty boy teasing a girl he liked. It brought out the plumpness of her lips and framed her face perfectly.

"Nate?" Patience stared at him expectantly.

He blinked and forced his attention away from her lips. "Yes?"

"What do you think then? Shall we do it?"

"Uh. Yes. Definitely."

Joyce clapped her hands together. "Excellent. I shall spread word that you are leaving and the Smiths will be returning shortly. Then we just have to make it look as though no one is here. Either she turns up while you are supposedly gone, or we make it look as though the Smiths have returned and she searches them out then."

Nate tried to digest this. "How will we make it look as though no one is living here?"

"We cannot come and go, we shall have to leave the fires and lights unlit. Just for a few days," Patience said. "If she has been watching us at all, she will think we've gone."

Nate lifted his coffee cup in a mock toast. "Sounds like we have a plan."

∞∞∞

Pain burst through Nate's knee. "Goddamn this bloody plan." He glared at the offending table leg that had decided to get in the way of his knee. With only a little light from outside seeping into the drawing room, he could hardly make out the offending object.

"Language," Patience scolded.

"Where are you?" He squinted into the dark to make out a huddled shape tucked up on the sofa.

"Over here."

"Over here," he mimicked. "Like I know where ‘over here' is."

"There's no need to be so grouchy."

He made his way cautiously over to her voice, hands out to prevent any more accidents. It wasn't the first. They had been in hiding for two days while Joyce had spread word that they were leaving and she was closing up the house until the Smiths returned. In the meantime, Nate's limbs and toes had managed to find every bit of furniture in the deuced house. By the end of this, he would be covered in bruises.

"Nate, careful."

Her warning came too late. His shin struck the edge of the sofa and he toppled.

It took him a moment to realize quite what he had fallen on. His face was surrounded by something soft. So soft. And generous. Two shapes that seemed to cup his head.

"Nate."

"Just a moment," he murmured to her breasts.

"Nate!" Patience tried to push him off.

He finally eased away and found a spot on the sofa to sit on. "My apologies," he muttered, not feeling at all sorry. That was the nicest thing to have happened to him in days.

"It doesn't matter."

"Your night vision must be better than mine."

"I have been sitting here for a while. My eyes have adjusted."

He eyed her until the shape of her grew more visible. Wrapped in a blanket, she had her legs tucked up on the seat.

"What were you doing?"

"Trying to stay warm mostly."

It was odd not to be able to see her expressions. He did not much like it. He had not realized how expressible her face was until he could no longer see it.

"You should go to bed. Joyce has I believe."

"Joyce is a sound sleeper. Have you heard her snoring?"

Nate laughed. "I have." Despite there being a floor between them, the woman managed to wrack the rafters with her snoring at times.

"She can get to sleep no matter what. I am too... I'm not sure... I just feel like I am waiting."

"Yes, I know what you mean. It's hard to rest when you know something might happen."

"I hope so. I hope all this sitting about freezing is worth it."

He reached out tentatively, hoping he didn't get a handful of breast, as much as he would like it. Luckily, he found her hand and indeed her fingertips were freezing. She was so small, it was no wonder.

Nate edged closer and put an arm around her. She made no protest and lifted the blanket so it covered them both, which was a clue to how cold she had to be. Patience burrowed close. His heart felt as though it had doubled in size. All these strange heart movements and flutters were getting tiring. Why Patience brought out the protective side of him, he did not know. The last woman to need protecting was her. She was the toughest woman he'd ever met.

"Do you think this will work?" she asked, her head resting in the crook of his arm.

For a moment, he could not reply. She fit so perfectly there. It was as though he understood precisely why she had never grown tall. It was all because she was intended to fit against him.

Shaking away the foolish thoughts, he cleared his throat. "It's worth a try. You were right about her being a clever woman. I think you could be right about this."

"I hope so. I would hate to go home and tell everyone I failed."

"I know your brothers, they would not think you had failed. Besides, Jacob was asking a lot from you. Even trained operatives get things wrong."

"He asked a lot of you too but you don't seem concerned about failing."

He shrugged. There was no need to mention that he had more experience in the area of espionage than she realized. Of course, most of it was more to do with sneaking goods into the country but he had met plenty of spies since he and his brother had started smuggling. The amount of men and information they had snuck in and out of the country was too many to count at this point.

"I don't doubt we will find her."

"I wish I could be as confident."

"You should be. Together we will find her, we will get that information and we'll return home triumphant and if that does not make your brothers proud, then they are simpletons."

Patience yawned, a long, loud yawn that she failed to smother. "Forgive me, I am not used to being up so late. I'm normally an early riser."

"I tend to stumble into bed whenever I feel like it. Though once my brother marries Hannah, I have a feeling things will change."

"Will it be strange living with a married couple?"

"It does make me consider renting a house nearby. Breton Hall is available I believe."

"Does Lord Redmere know you wish to move out?"

"Not yet. I shall tell him once the wedding plans are finalized. He has a lot to worry about at present."

"And he worries for you," she stated.

"Too much. He forgets I am no longer a young man with no mother or father to look after him. Perhaps if I set up house on my own, he will realize."

"It seems we both have things to prove to our brothers."

Nate laughed. "Brothers, eh? Who would have them?"

"I do love mine dearly but I wish they would see me for what I am, especially Harry."

"And how do they see you?"

"As a child, I should imagine."

"I cannot see how they could not see you as a woman. After all you are extremely—"

"Do not even say it," Patience warned.

"Mature," he finished. "I was going to say—"

Patience cut him off by slapping a hand over his mouth.

"I was not being rude," he protested, the words muffled.

"Shhh. Did you hear that?"

Her hand still clapped over his lips, he forced himself to listen. There was a squeak, then a clatter.

"Could it be her?" Patience whispered.

"Mmmf."

"Oh." She removed her hand from his mouth. "Sorry."

"It might well be. I think it's coming from the kitchen."

"Yes." She scooted forward and stood. "Quickly," she ordered. "We must catch her."

With as much speed as they could manage in near pitch dark, they made their way down to the kitchen. Nate would have preferred to go in front but Patience would not let him take the lead. She paused in the doorway to the kitchen. With no curtains, it was the lightest room in the house with the basement windows dropping enough pale, shimmering moonlight for them to be able to see the layout of the room.

Nate peered over Patience's head into the room but could see nothing. Patience turned to press a finger to his lip, as if he could not be trusted to stay quiet. He was sorely tempted to nibble on that fingertip to teach her a lesson. Had another clatter not sounded from near the pantry he might well have. A shadowed blur zipped past them and Patience near jumped into his arms. She gripped him so tightly that he could feel her heart pounding against his chest.

"A rat," he hissed. "A damned rat."

"Shit."

He smothered a laugh at her unladylike expression. But before he could tease her for it, the rear door to the kitchen squeaked. Unwilling to let Patience take the lead any longer, he urged her back behind him and edged toward the door. It eased open, letting in a blast of frigid air. A figure stepped in and Nate positioned himself flat against the wall. Patience followed suit. Once the person had come fully into the kitchen, Nate moved to lock the rear door. The intruder spun at the sound of his footsteps.

Pauline's features were clear to see in the nightlight. She sighed. " Merde ."