Chapter 6

After his conversation with Benjamin, Harlan was feeling the pressure to succeed in a mission that couldn't be rushed. But considering he was at the mercy of higher powers in London, that were going to start being demanding of answers after what Benjamin had said, Harlan had no choice but to bend to their will. It might chafe to do so, but it would be a relief to put an end to this latest charade once and for all. At first, he'd thought donning the guise of a highwayman would be effective. Now it was just a cumbersome frustration, especially when he wanted to look upon Miss Lindquist with nothing between them.

He had been honest when he'd mentioned to Benjamin that he wasn't ready to release her just yet. It made him sound like the worst sort of tyrant, but he'd never felt this way about any other woman before. Leah was unique in spirit and personality, and he yearned to know more about her. The moment he claimed she was free to go, he knew the illusion would be broken. Before that happened, he wanted to see if what flowed between them was worth exploring further. Perhaps after the spy was captured, then he might retire from the Home Office and pick up a scythe and become a boring farmer, trade in one field for another, one that was fraught with less peril.

It was worth some careful consideration, to be sure.

"You seem to be walking with intent." He glanced over at Leah as she spoke. He noted that her hair was pinned up and he yearned to see it flowing freely down her back once more. But that was courting an entirely different sort of trouble. "Are you leading me somewhere specific? If so, should I be concerned?"

He hadn't realized he'd been walking back to Windmill Hill, but it was only fitting since that was where he generally found his steps took him when something was on his mind. This time, he decided he wanted to show the lady at his side something quite spectacular. "I thought you might enjoy seeing the windmill and all the secrets it holds inside."

She laughed. "How very mysterious. No wonder it is someplace that you like to visit."

Chuckling in return, Harlan found it had been some time since he'd allowed himself the freedom to do so. He had always imagined a gallant lifestyle, fighting honorably for his country, but perhaps it wasn't what he was meant to do for the rest of his days, until he could no longer lift a weapon to defend himself properly.

Perhaps it was time he learned if he was meant for more.

He paused at the entrance to the large windmill and glanced at Leah as her mouth went slack, her expressive, brilliant eyes were riveted on the slow turn of the massive blades overhead. "It's amazing," she breathed.

"I'm glad you approve." He opened the door and waved a hand for her to precede him.

Once inside, he watched her face as she continued to look about in awe. He tried to view his surroundings through fresh eyes, or at least, recall the first time he'd walked inside an area that had become almost a hallowed place. Stairs led all the way to the top of the structure and a large, wooden beam stood in the center to support the overall design, while giant, metal wheels assisted the turning and breaking of the blades on the outside. "That is the windshaft," he explained. "Depending on the sort of windmill design, it can be used for grain, or in this case, energy from the river. It's very similar to the ones in Holland."

"How fascinating." She moved about the structure, extending a hand to brush against the sides of the sturdy wood. "I always thought that if you could touch something that was nearly lost to history, you might be able to feel the sentiments of the past." She blinked and then shook her head. "I'm sure that sounds very silly."

"Not at all." He smiled, and he knew it was a genuine one. "I should think many people want a glimpse into the past, whether it was thirty or a hundred and thirty years ago. It is probably why there is a specific devise in here to showcase the land where we are standing."

Her eyes lit up and he could feel his chest swell with pride that he'd offered her something so worthy. "Truly?"

"Yes." He walked over to a door near the side of the structure. "I should warn you it is normally dark in here, but for good reason. Inside is a devise referred to as a camera obscura."

"I have heard of that," she murmured. "But I have never gotten to witness how it works."

He shut the door behind them and the room was instantly filled with a fission of wavering light. "As you can see, today is a perfect day for viewing."

Leah quickly realizedthat the small pinhole where the light was reflecting wasn't simple sunshine at all, but rather a view from the lower part of the valley and the river flowing silently by. The difference from seeing it from outside is that the image was inverted and it shimmered on the walls around them like a fantastical daydream. "This is… magnificent. How could anyone contrive something so unique?"

"There have been scientists and mathematicians for centuries that have strived to make our world a better place. Or, at least, allow us to see the world from a different view."

Leah extended her hand and allowed the reflection of the day to envelope her. She smiled at the slight waves upon the water that, in turn, shimmered on her hand. "Remarkable."

There was a slight pause, and then she heard Harlan reply, "That isn't the only thing that is remarkable in this room."

With her heart abruptly in her throat, Leah turned to him. He was dressed casually again today, but with the light catching the glimmer in his eyes, she found herself daring to reach out and lightly touch his strong jaw. She had been captivated by him the night before when they had shared a bed together, but in the light of day, he seemed even more seductive, more virile.

"What is it that you want of me?" she whispered.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing lightly. "I'm not exactly sure, but I know that I can't let you go. Not yet. Not until I can understand this." He hesitated and reached out a thumb to trace the lower part of her mouth. "Until I can understand this overwhelming appeal for you."

Leah wanted him to kiss her, more than anything else. But she refused to do so while he still wore the mask, while he still held himself back from her. She had too much pride in herself to allow anything otherwise.

Regret became a heavy cloak around her, for she was quite sure that in another time, another circumstance, they might have had a chance to truly love one another. She stepped back from him. "Thank you for showing me the mill, but we should be returning."

She turned to go, but he grasped her arm. "Don't leave. Not yet."

She closed her eyes, making sure to keep her back to him. "Whatever you think you can persuade me to do, don't ask it of me. I can't allow my emotions to become entangled with someone like you, someone I can't fully trust, and certainly one who won't trust me."

There was a defining pause. "You don't understand. This is something I have to do. "

"Then, as I see it, there is little more to discuss."

Leah held her breath, as the hand on her arm slowly decreased.

She walked outside and was grateful for the full light of day to shine on her face. It was the return to reality that she had been needing. In the darkness, it was easy to get swept away by desire and illusion, but with the dawn, the spell was broken.

She heard Harlan moving closer, so she continued forward without waiting for him to join her. However, with each step that she took, she could sense the continued tension swirling between them. It made her heart pound and her hands flex anxiously.

Leah had to stand by while Harlan unlocked the cottage, but as soon as it was safe to do so, she headed for the seclusion of the bedchamber. She had no idea what she might do to occupy her time for the rest of the afternoon, but she wasn't going to sit in the parlor and keep going over the same conversation, because she knew it would change nothing.

She was grateful that he didn't try to waylay her as she walked into the room and shut the door behind her. After leaning against it a moment for temporary support, she pushed off and walked over to the solitary window that overlooked the river. She put a hand on the glass and had to wonder if this prison was any better than the one she faced when she arrived in Birmingham. If nothing else, she should write to her brother and inform him of the situation she currently faced. She doubted that he would be overly concerned, but at least she would have done her part and absolved her conscience.

She walked over to the desk and spied various writing implements. She supposed that was one good thing about staying in a small cottage. Things were easy to find when you needed them.

Sitting down, she dipped the quill into the inkwell and started to write. Once she had written a brief account of events, she read it over a second and a third time and then folded it neatly before sealing it with a dollop of wax.

She held it in her grasp and considered giving it to Harlan but decided that it would be best if they didn't speak again right then.

Setting the letter on the desk, she went to the bed and lay down. Without anything else to do, her eyes fluttered closed and she fell into a weary sleep.

Harlan tappedhis fingers against his thigh as he sat in the parlor. He despised this inactivity. Generally, when he was waiting for word about the next carriage to intercept, he would make some inquiries of his own. But with the lovely Miss Lindquist staying here, he found himself with more time on his hands than he had originally anticipated.

After a quarter hour passed and she didn't emerge from the bedchamber, Harlan ripped off his mask. It was starting to wear on his patience, but more than that, it was a constant reminder of all that he stood to lose should he offer his devotion to the wrong person. He had already convinced himself that she had no part in the current unrest in London, but he still couldn't allow his guard to slip for an instant.

Nevertheless, he was finding it difficult to remain with this constant restlessness, this uncertainty about what to do next. With the spy he was trying to capture. And Leah.

After another thirty minutes had passed, Harlan got to his feet and walked into the hallway. He paused by the chamber door and realized that it was particularly silent inside. Knowing he risked much, he dared to open the door slightly and peer inside. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the object of his fascination on the bed, her eyes closed and her breathing steady.

He glanced about the room, prepared to leave, but spied the folded paper on the desk. Curious, he walked on silent feet to where the letter proclaimed her brother's name on the front. His heart started to hammer in his ears. This might be the very proof that he had been waiting for.

Taking the letter and slipping back out of the room, he returned to the parlor where he opened the missive. It was a simple note that told of her journey thus far. He was relieved to find that she was being truthful about her kind treatment, at least. He should have been quite angry if she'd painted him in a bad light.

As he refolded it, he realized that everything seemed to be just as she'd claimed. Just because she had made her way from France didn't mean that she was involved in anything that would cause concern. Harlan had excused several passengers for the same reasons. Why he was so intent on keeping Miss Lindquist at his side was something he had yet to fully comprehend, but he knew the time was running thin when it came to figuring that out.

Leaning against the settee, he pinched the bridge of his nose and decided that he needed some advice. Considering that Lucas was the most levelheaded of all of his men, he locked the front door behind him as he headed for the village a short distance away. He knew that the lock wouldn't hold Miss Lindquist, but perhaps it would deter her long enough for him to return.

A brief time later, Harlan knocked on the wooden door of Lucas's cottage. His summons was opened by the man he'd hoped to find. At first, his bespectacled ally seemed surprised to see Harlan standing on his front step, but he recovered quickly enough and opened the door wider for him to enter.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Appleton." Harlan nodded a greeting to Lucas's wife, who was holding their two-year-old daughter on her hip while she went about the cottage with a cleaning rag.

She glanced over at him and offered a polite nod. "Mr. Mathis."

Once the pleasantries were exchanged, Harlan turned back to Lucas. "I was wondering if you might grant me a moment in private."

With a quick glance at his wife, Lucas nodded. "Of course. Shall we talk in the back gardens?"

Although most of Harlan's men lived within modest means, they were not suffering from poverty. He had ensured that when he'd agreed to work for the government and choose a group of trusted men to work with, whom he'd known for many years. He'd long had a fascination for the village of Gravesend and spent a lot of time there when he was trying to sort out his life after his father's death. The history of Dick Turpin, one of the most infamous highwaymen to roam England in the eighteenth century, had been of particular interest to him. Thus, the reason for his contrived idea of holding up public coaches in search of a possible spy. Harlan admitted to experiencing a certain sort of thrill every time he'd donned the guise, until recently when it had begun to make him feel like a wastrel, rather than an honorable man who represented the interests of the new queen. He certainly didn't like that Leah looked upon him unfavorably when he found he wanted her approval.

"Has something happened with Miss Lindquist?" Lucas asked once they were among the fragrant flowers of the gardens around them.

Harlan removed the letter from his pocket and handed it to him. "On the contrary, I believe. I retrieved this just before I arrived."

Lucas lifted a curious brow, but quickly perused the letter before handing it back to him. "It seems genuine enough to me."

"No hidden code that you could ascertain?" Harlan asked as he tucked the paper back securely.

"Not to my knowledge, but if we are considering her as a potential suspect, then it could be possible that it is more difficult to decipher than ones previously intercepted. If you like, I can keep it on hand and inspect it further."

"No," Harlan returned tightly. "That won't be necessary. I am under the firm conviction that Miss Lindquist is without offense, that her explanation is genuine."

"Then shall you release her?"

Harlan looked over at a section of bright blooms where a bee was playfully moving from center to center to gain the nectar within. "I am undecided as yet. I was hoping that you might give me some direction along those lines."

"How can I help?" Lucas asked, the sincere note in his voice making Harlan realize that he had come to the right place.

"I should like to keep Miss Lindquist in my care a bit longer, not because I believe her to be party to what is happening in London, but because I find myself…" He paused, unsure of how to phrase the feelings that had erupted the moment he'd laid eyes on her.

"Besotted?"

He snorted. "Indeed. I suppose that is a good a word as any."

"Then perhaps you should start by telling her the truth."

Harlan frowned. "And if I am wrong about her involvement? The last thing I want to do is put any of you in danger because of my current inability to look the other way when confronted with a pretty face."

"How the lady looks does not always matter," Lucas countered. "If you are hesitating, then I should say they are feelings worth exploring further, but I would confess everything to her and see if she might feel the same. That is the best way to determine your next course of action. If she is disinclined to remain, then I feel you will have your answer. It ultimately has to be her choice. Not yours."

Harlan blew out a heavy breath. "I knew you would be the one to make sense of the matter."

Lucas smiled and pushed his spectacles up his nose. "No man is prepared to have his heart put in jeopardy, but the right woman can make it easier to bear. You just have to decide if she is worth it."

Harlan inclined his head. "Thank you, Lucas. I will consider your council."

Feeling a lightness in his step as he left Lucas's cottage, Harlan was on his way back to the cottage when he heard the sound of thundering hooves behind him. He turned to see Hugh coming upon him at a fast clip.

Harlan tensed as he waited for him to come abreast. As he pulled back on the reins of his mount, Hugh looked at him with concern lining his features. "What is it?" Harlan demanded.

"Not here." Hugh glanced around, which caused Harlan to do the same. "I was coming to speak to you in private. Go to the windmill."

Harlan nodded sharply and continued walking while Hugh went on ahead.

Shoving a hand through his hair, Harlan wondered if his life would ever get easier. On the heels of that thought, he pictured Leah, sleeping so peacefully in his bed, and he had to consider if it would be fair to draw her into this world of deceit and secrecy. Or whether he should spare her the anguish it would surely bring.