Chapter Fourteen

Patience took full enjoyment of the lit fire in the drawing room. The sweet warmth licked into her bones as she eyed their bounty.

Pauline Fourès had fared well considering she'd fled the safety of her protector's home not long ago. Ever elegant, her pale pink pelisse and gown were perfectly pressed. Whatever she had been doing since they saw her last, she had been well looked after.

"I remember you," she said, her accent making her words sound almost lyrical. "You were la fille in that awful pink dress."

Patience glanced at Nate who was clearly suppressing a laugh.

"Yes," Patience said through gritted teeth. "That was me."

"I did not realize you were hunting me down," Pauline said with a huff.

She sat on the sofa, slightly reclined as if she did not have a care in the world. Her dark hair was carefully braided around her head and held up with a silver comb. It was as though she was at a party instead of being held by two strangers. A pang of envy rolled through Patience. How could she be so calm, so self-assured?

Pauline peered at her nails. "I suppose you want something from me?"

Nate nodded and strode forward. He set himself on the chair opposite and leaned forward, elbows on knees. Even Patience's heart did a little flutter at the movement of his lithe body and the intense expression on his face. Goodness knows how Pauline felt being on the receiving end of such a look.

"We want to protect you," Nate told her.

The woman peered at Nate for some time before straightening a little in her seat. Whatever magic Nate was wielding, it was working. Patience should have always let him take the lead on Pauline—after all he was quite the expert on women, she thought bitterly.

Pauline waved a hand. "I had protection."

"Sir Magnus was already tiring off you."

She snorted. " Oui , the fool. He hardly knew what to do with a woman. I had strong suspicion he was…well…you know." She smiled.

Patience frowned. "Was what?"

Nate shook his head. "It does not matter."

Pauline gave her a sympathetic look. "Poor, sweet girl. You are an innocent thing are you not?"

"Hardly," Patience protested, feeling innocent indeed.

Next to this vivacious, beautiful woman, she felt like a short, stumpy, ugly pig. No, make that a boar. A hairy, stunted, grunting boar. Each word out of her mouth felt stupid and nonsensical and every movement was awkward and bumbling. And Patience had hardly said a word or moved an inch yet!

"Where are my cousins?" Pauline asked.

"Out of town," Patience said firmly.

"And they will be gone for long?"

Nate nodded. "As long as we want them to be."

Pauline adopted a pout. One that made her look more attractive rather than sulky. The sort of pout that made a man want to fix all her woes for her. Patience caught herself pressing her own lips together in imitation and quickly straightened her mouth.

"You English are devious."

"Yes we are," Nate agreed, a gleam in his eye.

That gleam—the sort of wicked one that always made her want to slap him as well as fling herself against him—had a similar effect on Pauline. She seemed to rise to attention that little bit more.

The atmosphere grew thick. Patience tried not to grind her teeth. A long look ran between the pair and it took all her willpower not to jump between them and do something foolish. Thankfully Joyce entered before Patience sprang into action.

"Tea, my dears," she declared. "Tea and sandwiches. No warm food yet but I am working on that." The housekeeper's face lit up at the idea of being able to cook a proper meal. "I am sure you are all looking forward to that."

"That we are, Mrs. Rowley, that we are," Nate agreed.

"Well, I shall leave you to it," Joyce said, leaving the tray on the coffee table and backing out of the room.

Pauline leaned forward, her gaze on them both and poured herself a cup of tea. "I prefer coffee. Tea is so English."

Regardless of her dislike of tea, she sipped away quite happily before helping herself to a sandwich. Patience's stomach grumbled loudly enough for everyone to hear and her cheeks near boiled with embarrassment.

Pauline smothered a giggle and motioned to the food. "I shall not eat it all. I have to watch my figure."

Patience had never watched her figure in her life, unless it was to grumble with it in dissatisfaction at being so shapeless and short. There was little point. What help was a womanly figure when bounding across fields after one's brothers or going on a hunt? Pauline, however, used her assets to full affect, and Patience could not help wonder if she should not have spent more time wearing corsets and eating carefully—though with her height she could likely starve to death and not change one bit.

Ignoring the offer of sandwiches, Patience met the woman's gaze head on. She would not be intimidated by her. Not by her elegant figure or by her beautiful clothes. Not by her braids nor her long arching neck. Not even by the way she appeared as though she owned the place. They had a mission to complete and nothing would stop her. Heck, she had faced down the most brutish of men in her attempt to find Pauline. She had nearly been crushed by a carriage. She had lived in the freezing cold for several days and survived it all. No, there was no need for her to be intimidated by this woman.

"We want the information you have on Napoleon, Pauline," Patience said bluntly. "You are being watched. You have been watched for some time. You will not be allowed to leave until you give us that information."

Pauline eyed her for several moments, her lips pursed. "I like you," she finally concluded. She motioned to Patience's pantaloons. "You look better in those."

Patience opened her mouth, unsure how to respond to the sudden reversal in attitude.

"Will you help us?" Nate pressed.

A flicker of amusement teased the corners of Pauline's mouth. "Perhaps. What is in it for me?"

"Protection."

The woman laughed. "That information was my protection. Am I to trust the English with my safety?" She said English as though the very word pained her to say.

Patience finally sucked up the courage to sit next to Pauline and forget how inelegant she felt next to her. "You are being watched. Your letters were being read long before you came to England. There will be no escape for you until you give over the information."

"So I am to betray my fellow countrymen?" Pauline asked dramatically.

Patience fixed her with a look. "You were betrayed by Napoleon, were you not? And your husband? They do not deserve your loyalty."

A flicker of pain echoed in the woman's dark eyes before it vanished. She drew in a breath and released it loudly enough for them all to hear. "They do not, that is true. But how can I be sure I will be safe when this information is in the hands of the British? Napoleon will surely want me dead after I have betrayed him."

"Napoleon has enough to deal with at present. He will not bother himself with you," Nate assured.

"And even if he did, we can ensure you are safe," Patience added. "There are many places in Britain you can go. You will no doubt be richly rewarded for your service to your new country."

Pauline flicked her gaze between them both then leaned back in the chair. "I do not know if what you say is true but I want the English to stop following me, to stop reading my letters. If you can promise me at least that much, I shall tell you all I know."

Nate nodded. "That we can promise with ease."

"Very well." Pauline eyed her fingernails for a moment. Only the pop and crackle of the fire sounded. "I do not know anything myself. It is all in documents. Letters and suchlike. I left them at Magnus' house for safekeeping."

Patience blinked. "You left them behind?"

"Well I left in a hurry, did I not?" She gave Patience a pointed look. "But I was planning to get them back. If you let me leave I shall have them back to you with ease."

"No." Nate stood. "You will stay here until we know we have everything we need."

"We can get the information ourselves," Patience agreed, "just tell us where it is."

Pauline sighed and offered another pout. "You do not trust me I see." A smile played on her lips. "Very well, it is in his library. There is a book— Candide by Voltaire—you know it?"

They both nodded.

"You will find the papers in that book."

Nate rubbed a hand across his chin. "All of them? It's a small book."

"You shall find all you need," replied Pauline, jutting her chin up.

"I suppose I had better contact Sir Magnus. Let us hope our little display on our last visit did not frighten him off." Nate shot Patience a look that reminded her of the fact that she had chased off Sir Magnus's mistress and caused quite a to do, particularly when she had returned to the party looking more than a little flustered with no explanation as to why she had done what she had.

"If you are planning on attending another dinner party, you cannot send her in that pink dress again." Pauline nodded toward Patience. "I have some fine gowns in storage. She can wear one of those. That pink dress should be burned." The woman gave a mock shudder. "It is an insult to fashion."

"Perhaps I have other dresses, nicer dresses," Patience protested.

Pauline ran her gaze up and down her and shook her head. " Non , you do not. You shall wear one of mine," she said firmly.

Patience looked to Nate for him to come to her defense but he merely shrugged, an amused smile upon his face. Apparently she was going to have to wear yet another dress and there was nothing that could be done about it.