Lord Abbott couldn’t have chosen a better morning to forsake his unwilling daughter to wed a man she thoroughly despised. Truth be told, he hadn’t even thought of her that much in the past weeks that they had not seen each other. He poured himself out to the major tasks at hand, which were the preparations for their wedding and his assignment to flush out the traitor among them. It was true that she was a major part of his cover, but it didn’t mean that he had to thoroughly concern himself with her and her thoughts. At the end of the day, although he would not have married her if he were to be asked, she was just a tool that he was using to reach his goals. Just the same, he was a tool that she would use to save her reputation and standing in the society.

Nicholas watched London pass by from his seat in the carriage. His right hand was unconsciously resting over his left side, just below the ribs. It was very painful to move, much more when the carriage jolted as it crossed the uneven streets. He refrained from making any further attempt at communication, and instead concentrated on not wincing or fainting. Besides, his bride was certainly not charmed by his presence. Silence was good enough for him, until she broke it.

“Well, we’re halfway through it,” she said, turning to look at him for the first time. The masquerade would begin again. “When we get there I’ll cut the cake before handing it off to someone else. I, of course, am ready to leave whenever you are, so just let me know. Until that moment I would appreciate no more meaningless whispers of flirting. If you wish to speak aloud to me for show then so be it, but I will not be subject to another one of your charming, breathtaking lies.”

“Breathtaking?” he repeated with a raised brow, but his face remained serious. There was no point teasing her at this state.

“Then after today you can go back to your busy, busy life. Nick, if there is another woman who has your heart, and apparently your time, then fine, I don’t care. You do not have to tease me to play the loving wife at home who doesn’t know. So will you please, for the love of all that is holy, stop acting like you care?” She continued, not even letting him speak for himself. Then her voice broke and her real emotion seeped through a crack in her perfectly controlled calm mask. ”You will not make me cry in front of all these people, Nicholas Rochford, do you understand me?”

He continued to stare at her even as she was finished talking. “Claire, listen to me.” Nick said in a wry tone. “I will never be the perfect husband you might have dreamed about when you were younger, nor will you be the wife I have always hoped to marry. We were both forced into this and now you are my wife and I am your husband. No, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. I don’t want to see you cry.” He cupped her cheek with his free hand and lowered his voice as if he was telling her the deepest secret of his heart. “But I want to see you allow me to be a husband to you. I have nobody else, Claire. Nobody has my heart. My time, yes, but not my heart. I’m not like you.” He swallowed hard, surprised at the words that spilled out of his mouth unintentionally. His day was just getting more and more wrong. Perhaps he should just die and leave all of the mess behind. “I-I mean, I’m not like you-r average dandy.”

Of all the stupid things to say to his wife…

Nick withdrew his hand and looked out into the vast garden of Lord Abbott’s property. Carriages were already lined and he imagined the household was very busy tending to the coming guests, not to mention the bride and the groom.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath, but he couldn’t look at her. Was she glaring at him? Was she crying? Did she want to slap him? Any of those were justifiable, but not in the view of the public’s eye. “We will go through this together for the sake of our families,” Nick added, his voice very serious. “Ms. Abbott, just a few more hours of this foolish masquerade.”

Just in time as the carriage was drawing close to the front entrance to the house, Nick took a breath not too deep as it hurt his injury, closed his eyes then smiled. He turned to his wife and kissed her on the cheek. “Just a few more hours,” he repeated before he braced himself and slowly stepped out of the carriage. Nick nearly stumbled as he descended, but one hand on their vehicle steadied him. When had it been so difficult to step down from a carriage? His vision swam in a pool of colors and distorted images. His flesh felt like it was being forcibly torn. He shook his head to clear it then stood up straight and offered his hand to Claire.

”…I’m not like you.” A pause, at which Claire blinked in surprise, unsure what to say. “I-I mean, I’m not like you-r average dandy.”

Tears swelled in Claire’s eyes as he looked away and muttered an apology. The place where his hand had touched still burned with the urge she’d had to slap it. She had kept her lips sealed, let him speak, and this was what she got for it. “I’m not asking for perfection, Nicholas,” she said still staring at him, “only to be treated as a person, not another asset your family’s money has bought. And as for not being like me…”

Claire looked down at her ring, wishing she could throw it into that stream beneath the bridge at his estate. “Don’t you dare think you know anything about me ever again. If you would stop buying gifts and take a moment to-“ Too late, they were already pulling up to the house. The young woman cursed, dabbing at the corner of her eyes to try and keep her make-up looking fresh despite crying a little. “I asked one thing of you, Nick, and you couldn’t even do that.” How hard was it for a person to not talk so the other wouldn’t cry? For a male, apparently impossible. It wouldn’t have been a problem if he was capable of opening his mouth without the most foolish things coming out.

“Just a few more hours,” he said with a kiss, to which she only looked down and forced herself to not move. She was so angry with him, but was it really all because of him? Claire sighed, wondering if she was simply taking it all out on him because he was the one beside her. No…no, he deserved the cold shoulder, to know how she felt. Claire wasn’t going to be the wife that silently took his silly act and giggled at his jokes.

“My, I married quite the gentleman,” she said with an uncharacteristic laugh, taking his hand as she stepped down onto the cobble stone path. She would show him she was an adult and wasn’t going to ruin the reception just because they were fighting. Afterall, she expected this to be the tone of their marriage for the rest of their lives. Plus this might give him a little insight as to why she was so annoyed by the front he put on with her.

Once inside Claire gushed over every inch of the room, quickly finding her friends and pointing out the cake, how delicious the tea was, the expensive tablecloths, and even the luscious bows tied to the back of each chair. “It’s beautiful, Claire,” one of the women her age that was already married said, both girls coming back to their husbands. “But where are you going after this? You never said! I’m sure Nicholas has the most wonderful trip planned for you two. You know you can whisper it to me, I won’t tell anyone.”

Claire hesitated, looking at Nick before answering. “Elizabeth! You know it’s bad luck to ask.” Not to mention she didn’t think they were going anywhere. At least she hoped not, she had worked to do. “Nick is such a romantic, I’m sure he has something wonderful planned that I will tell you all about when we get back. I plan on having everyone that’s anyone over to see the grand ballroom at our estate as soon as we get back.”

Thankfully her father soon came up to break up the conversation. “What is taking you two so long? Everyone’s waiting for the cake to be cut. You will be doing the honors, yes?” he asked Claire, touching her back.

“Of course, can’t disappoint the people,” she joked, getting a laugh out of her friend. “Come, Nicholas. You know I wanted a white cake with strawberries, one of the few things I asked for and I was told it wasn’t tradition.“ Yes, she was taking a moment in the midst of stress and worry to tell him about the denial of her favorite cake. Everything else was miserable, couldn’t she have a little something she loved? “Instead, we have a dark, rich fruit cake. Or so the chef said.” She sighed deeply as they came to the long rectangular table, her dress train sliding along the floor with each delicate step she took. All eyes were on them as she looked up at him, her smile polite. “Do you like fruit cake?” Claire immediately put a gloved hand to her lips, giving him a look of apology. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk of something so…pointless and silly,” she added sarcastically under her breath. “I know you aren’t dandy or like me.”

As soon as they left the privacy of their carriage, they were once again the happy couple that they wanted everyone to believe. However, Nicholas refrained from opening his mouth to speak to his wife. He focused his attention instead on walking and to the other people – lords, ladies, friends, and the house staff – who greeted the newlyweds as they walked towards the ballroom.

The grand ballroom was as he envisioned it to be. The room was bright with the morning light, the tables were set in perfection with centerpieces so divine and the lined up in precise arrangement. Flowers were present in strategically artistic locations, on columns, windowpanes, and even the ceiling. He had nothing to do with the reception breakfast, but he was impressed by what the Abbotts did.

People were already present and were enjoying their time mingling with each other when they entered the venue. He already saw Tim with one of their associates. By that time, it was already clear to him that he needed help and there was no way of getting any without attracting unnecessary attention. They couldn’t disclose his current situation to the general public in fear that the cloaked man from the other night, whoever he may be, might suspect Mr. Rochford as the blue-eyed disguised noble man from the previous night. It was too risky, which was why Bennett was willing to cancel the wedding that morning if Nick’s ego was not as huge as it was.

Claire was quick to disentangle herself from him to find her friends and relatives. Nick followed close behind, but was intercepted by the Marquess of Bristol and the Baron Ashburton who were among the gentlemen who he gambled with at White’s. A pair he didn’t really want to converse with, but they seemed to enjoy his company.

“Isn’t she a lovely bride, Mr. Rochford,” mused the marquess.

“She is, indeed,” added Baron Ashburton. “If her reputation has not been tainted with the scandal, I might have asked for her hand.”

Smiling weakly, Nick patted the baron lightly on the shoulder. “Ah, my lord. You see how I am favored by fortune not only in placing bets, but also in matters involving women.”

“I heard her father was in a hurry to marry her off. Poor girl, even her family is ashamed of her. You must, Nicholas, keep your eye on that one at all times or she will drag you down.”

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” Nick tilted his head to the side, his smile turning cold. He was a head taller than the marquess, but the noble man clearly had the advantage of his title. “I will have to ask you to stop referring to my wife with such thoughtless remarks or--”

“Nick!”

Timothy walked up to the three of them. “What time will you be leaving with your wife?” Then, seeming to notice the other gentlemen for the first time, he bowed slightly and greeted the two.
“Ah! Timothy. Let me introduce you to Lord Hervey, Marquess of Bristol. And this other good looking gentleman is my fried, Lord Baring, Baron Ashburton.” He stole a glance at Claire who was speaking with her friends not too far from him. “We will not waste the daylight, dear cousin. As soon as she has changed into her traveling dress, I suppose we are ready to leave. Why did you ask?” He narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“The horses needed some rest. Apparently there was a mis--”

It was at that time that Claire called him to come with her. “Much as I would like to stay, my new master calls,” he joked leaving the two lords laughing and Timothy staring at him with a look that says Nicholas was a fool and it was not Tim’s fault if he fell dead before the day ended.

Nick knew that, but he had already started the game, he might as well finish it. One hand pressed on his injury as if for support, he stood beside Claire. His eyes were filled with warmth as he looked at her. “What is it, my dear?” he asked, placing his free hand on the small of her back as he led them both to the wedding cake. “What you wanted is indeed not traditional. I will buy all the cakes you want later, just let this one slide.”

When they reached the table, she looked up at him with a smile playing on her lips. She was smiling, but it felt like she just stabbed him in the heart with a knife. It was better when they were not together, then they could separately pretend to love the other person. It was infinitely more difficult to pretend when they stood so close together. “Do you like fruit cake?” she asked, but immediately took it back as she spoke behind a gloved hand. ”Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk of something so…pointless and silly. I know you aren’t dandy or like me.

Claire said it in a light-hearted voice, but he sensed the venom in her words. Well then. He ignored the last sentences. What he did as a response was to gently take the hand she used to cover her lips and in front of the important people in London, brushed his lips against her knuckles. At the same time, he extended his other hand to the maidservant holding the knife. When he raised his head to look into her emerald eyes, a playful smile was on his lips. Then he pressed the knife’s handle on the palm of her hand and closed her fingers over it. “The cake, Mrs. Rochford.”

No more whispered flirting, she said, which was why he was not whispering. He was flirting with her with his actions. Nick let go of her hand and allowed her to cut the cake then they sat in their designated table to actually have breakfast. Their parents and entourage sat on the same long table with the couple at the center.

“I have planned for us to go to Paris,” he said talking to her, hoping she would answer. “However, if you wish to be somewhere else…” Perhaps she didn’t want to leave too. He hoped she didn’t want to leave London as much as he. There was work to be done in London. They now have one of the spies who needed to be questioned and Nick was excited to hear his secrets.

If Claire had known Nick was defending her to a Baron of all people, she might have given him a little more slack. Since she did not, however, the bride only smiled weakly at the kiss before cutting the cake, handing it off to one of the staff. Once seated she was actually surprised to hear his travel plans. Or their plans, rather.

“Oh. You really planned a trip for us?” she asked with hesitation, watching him with suspicion. “Did you organize it, or did your father?” Claire added with a smirk. Either way, it was in place and she didn’t want to leave. “All the same, I appreciate such a luxurious trip but I would much rather just go home.” Home. Claire looked around, realizing she would never sleep in her own bed again or read out on the balcony, or have supper with her father without her new husband at her side. With a small sigh she tried to not let it affect her; there was enough to worry about. “You really don’t seem like the traveling type with your business. I have plenty to do myself such as arrange all my belongings, work on the landscaping.” Obtaining secret information from British military personnel…

“All I’m saying is I don’t mind if we stay here. No one can condemn us for being busy. If you wish, I could tell everyone I was to blame. Fever or something of the like,” she offered, knowing at this point his reputation mattered much more than hers. They may not get along, but he was the one who owned a business to bring in money and hers was shot at this point anyway. Looking over at him though she frowned, afraid he would take her slight concern as offensive. “Speaking of fever, Nicholas you seem awfully pale. Are you all right?.”

She’d barely taken a few bites, but Claire refused to do one more than against her will today. So without wasting any more time she informed Nick where she was going before heading upstairs to change, along with her maidservant. She came back down in a fashionable spring green and pink dress with a matching hat and white gloves instead of the earlier lace. Again she acted flattered at every compliment given, though she would have much rather moved through the crowd at a faster pace. “Miss Abbot, this has been a beautiful reception, I and my wife have very much enjoyed the company of everyone here,” one of them went on, continuing their conversation. Elijah Paulet, son of the Marquess of Winchester. His rather unpleasantly looking but wealthy wife hung onto his arm as usual.

“Well I’m glad to hear it,” she answered, glancing to the side in hopes Nick would rescue her. She didn’t see him. “This really is all for our guests, of course, it wouldn’t do if you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“Oh, don’t say that, it’s your wedding! It was good of him to put the past behind him and take you as his, wouldn’t you agree dear?” The wife nodded, giving Claire a look of…what was that? Not disgust. More like faked pity. She’d gotten a few of those today, but thankfully not many. Most were just happy to be invited to such a grand event.

“Yes, it was good of him. I will not be forgetting his love and kindness anytime soon,” she said, hoping that if she went along with his sly insults he would let her go.

“I should hope not. A man can only forgive so many times. If my Sofia-“

“Have you seen my husband? It is about time we left,” she said, tearing her eyes away from him to look around desperately for Nicholas. Who knew she would ever desire his company so much. Claire only hoped his commanding presence would get them out of the room, not make him want to stay and join in on the conversation .

“Oh. You really planned a trip for us? Did you organize it, or did your father?”

“Of course I did!” He answered in a matter of fact manner. He did plan and worked out reservations for the two of them. It was supposed to be a short five-day trip to the capital of France, where he was going to exchange information with his counterparts while. However, as the day went on, it was getting clearer to Nick that he was not going to France.

“All the same, I appreciate such a luxurious trip but I would much rather just go home. You really don’t seem like the traveling type with your business. I have plenty to do myself such as arrange all my belongings, work on the landscaping.”

Nick opened his mouth to protest – because a good husband would want to spend the first few days alone with his new wife – nevertheless Claire continued talking. She offered to be their scapegoat, to pretend to be ill, but then she noticed his complexion and commented on it. “I’m quite well, thank you for asking. Paleness is in fashion this season, or so I heard,” he assured her, though he hadn’t touched any of the food on his plate and he was leaning heavily on the cushioned backrest of his chair.

After Claire left with her maidservant, Nick was immediately approached by Timothy. The tall Frenchman crouched from the back of Nick’s chair and whispered, “Nicholas, you are most certainly not looking well. Mr. Bennett is worried.”

“As I am,” Nick whispered back. “I’m afraid I have underestimated the damage of the injury,” he admitted then pushed his frock coat a few inches, just enough for Timothy to see a blotch darkening the material of his friend’s lower left side of the waistcoat. “How is everything going?”

“Hell and damnation! The four of us is here. I was with Jonas earlier, he has engaged his target. Will you stop worrying about our mission?” He looked around at the colorful crowd enjoying themselves at breakfast. Only a few of these people were personally acquainted with Nick and although breakfasts after the wedding were supposed to honor the bride and the groom, it was a generally accepted fact that such gatherings were attended by the upper class as an excuse to socialize. It didn’t matter who the couple were, what mattered was how grand the event. “Will you be able to walk? Let us get you in the carriage. I will ask for your wife as soon as she is done changing. Looks like Paris will have to be cancelled for now.”

Timothy did hand signal for Lawrence Bennett who looked happily conversing with a minor lord. Upon seeing Tim’s signal, the older gentleman excused himself and searched for Lord Abbott.

*************

Mr. Bennett’s news brought a mixture of disappointment and concern to Lord Abbott. He watched his new son-in-law together with his father and cousin as they exited the ballroom discretely, avoiding as much conversation as they could. Nicholas was still popular among the women even though this was his marriage that they attended. The blue-eyed gentleman managed to walk upright, though with obvious difficulty which Lord Abbott failed to notice that morning.

Nick’s father explained that his son earned a bullet to his abdominal area the day before the wedding. Apparently, their personal carriage was robbed and Nick was shot as he fought back against the group who attacked them. They did not really want to disclose the event to the public, fearing that it might cause doubt as to the capabilities of the Rochfords to safeguard their assets.

Then finally he saw his daughter enter the ballroom again now wearing a dress that was in the height fo fashion. She was speaking with two of their guests, but his daughter didn’t appear to be genuinely happy that these people were talking to her. He approached her, but before him, a servant stepped up beside her and passed her a note with instructions to meet with urgency with her contact at nightfall in Belgrave Square. Also on the note was the emphasis not to get out of London in the next few weeks.

“This is from one of the guests,” informed the servant as he held up the folded piece of paper to Claire.

“Claire, will you speak with me for a moment,” The duke requested, ignoring the servant. “My apologies, my lord and lady.”

When they were a safe distance away, he informed her of the condition of her husband and that he was waiting in their carriage.

“He…what?” Claire stared at her father in bewilderment, her thin fingers going to her parted lips. It was enough to make her forget about the note crumpled in her hand. “Wait, why are you telling me and not Nick? I knew he looked pale. Did he already leave?” she asked quickly, franticly looking around for her husband.

“Dear, calm down. He’s waiting for you in the carriage. I think-“

“I have to go. Have the servants bring the rest of my things over this afternoon, will you? Thank you for everything, father,” she said with an apologetic smile before rushing off. He stayed close behind to make sure she made it out of out the door without getting stopped besides quick thank yous to the friends she passed. One more goodbye to him and she ran out to the solid black carriage they came in. As she stepped up and inside with help from the footman Claire realized she still had the note hidden in her fist. Hopefully she would have a chance to toss it before he noticed.

“Nicholas- Nicholas Rochford, I didn’t think I’d need to learn your middle name so soon! I need it so I can properly fuss at you,” she said as soon as she the door was shut. She wasn’t angry though…just exasperated. “You were shot? What kind of evil person would shoot at you just for a little money? My lands, Nick, you could have died!” she said, her voice raising in pitch as she went on. The bride tentatively reached out as she settled into her seat, afraid simply touching him would cause more pain. “Why was my father the one to inform me, that wasn’t a very pleasant way to find out. Nick, I-“ Finally she paused, pity taking the place of anxiety in her tone and expression. “I can’t believe you went through this entire day without saying a word. I’ve been so selfish without realizing it. Here I’m complaining because you haven’t spoken to me recently, and you’ve been bleeding all morning. Can I see where…? At least when we get home if not now?”

Claire eventually sat back, though every muscle in her body was still stiff with worry. “And you were still going to take me to France. That was unbelievably kind, but you do realize there’s no way we’re going.” Honestly, a part of her was a little relieved an emergency like this came up. It gave her good excuse to stay home for quite some time. It was cruel, but he wasn’t going to die, in the end this would work out fine…

That thought made her feel even guiltier. Claire let out a slow, steading breath and put a hand on his thigh. “We may not love each other but you’re not getting up until the physician says it’s all right. Please, your father can attend to the business and I’ll take care of anything else. I…why didn’t you tell me?” she asked quietly, sounding hurt. “No, don’t answer that. Don’t speak, we just need to get you home and in bed.” Despite the grim circumstances Claire grinned, giving him a suspicious look. “You did this just to get off the couch, didn’t you? Fine, you win for now…until you get better, that is.”

“Antoine will have to go to France in my stead,” Nicholas was telling Mr. Bennett. “That is a better idea as he will most definitely not have a hard time blending in. Besides, my French is not very good.”

The gentleman’s graying brows were furrowed as he listened to what his son was saying. He sat on the opposite bench of the carriage while Timothy Gladstone guarded the door. They had just deposited the groom to his carriage and he sat in the most comfortable position that the carriage can provide for him. “You cannot possibly be thinking about our mission at this hour, James,” Tim scolded in a harsh whisper, leaning against his knees. “I don’t want to hear any of this. We will wait for Claire and we will see you rested and tended by a physician. You are to stay out of the operation until our physician cleared you. Do you understand?”

“But we had just gotten in our custody a very probable spy,” the younger man protested, though weakly.

“We shall take care of it. The order is final, James. You will not leave the premises of the property in Kensington until you have been cleared by the physician. Doing otherwise will be grounds for insubordination.”

Bennett didn’t wait for an answer, because he would not accept any answer other than that Nick would comply with the demands of his superior. He stepped down of the carriage and left the injured gentleman to reflect on his actions for the day.

His time for reflection wasn’t that long though, for in just a few moments, his bride came rushing in the carriage. The door was instantly shut behind her and she spoke quick words strung into sentences that were laced with worry. He could see in her face and in her gestures that more than she was upset by him not telling her that he was hurt, she was worried for his well-being. He honestly didn’t expect that reaction from her. With the way she had treated him the whole day, he expected her to be more than happy to hear that her new husband might die on their first day as newlyweds.

“Bradley,” he supplied, on the topic of his middle name. “My middle name is Bradley. You can now properly fuss at me.” Despite the pain and the continuous flow of blood drenching his waistcoat and right hand, Nick’s smile was lopsided and full of mischief. It might be his reaction to her worried gestures, to smile and somehow reassure her that he was fine. He was not fine.

“I can’t believe you went through this entire day without saying a word. I’ve been so selfish without realizing it. Here I’m complaining because you haven’t spoken to me recently, and you’ve been bleeding all morning. Can I see where…? At least when we get home if not now?”

“No, dear wife,” he objected. “It is something a lady of gentle upbringing such as yourself should not see and could not handle. Please leave it to the physicians. Rest assured, I am fine.”

The carriage started moving and Claire settled back on her seat. “And you were still going to take me to France. That was unbelievably kind, but you do realize there’s no way we’re going.”

Nick nodded, looking out the window as the carriage started to move and their guests were coming out of the Abbott’s mansion. “I was foolish to overestimate the capacities of my body. I expected to be able to make it through the day. I am sorry I ruined our wedding day. I should be taking you to Paris by now,” he admitted. He did want to go to Paris himself. London was a beautiful place, but he liked how France was more liberate.

Then he felt her place her hand on his thigh. The slight pressure got his attention and his blue eyes turned to her. “We may not love each other but you’re not getting up until the physician says it’s all right. Please, your father can attend to the business and I’ll take care of anything else. I…why didn’t you tell me? No, don’t answer that. Don’t speak, we just need to get you home and in bed. You did this just to get off the couch, didn’t you? Fine, you win for now…until you get better, that is.”

It occurred to him to cheat to ensure his victory over the bedroom issue, but he figured that she would not win against him in an actual race. The accusation was therefore invalid and only accomplished to turn his polite lopsided smile into a grin. “You can always welcome to join me, Mrs. Rochford.”

The whole house was bustling with activities when the couple arrived. They were not supposed to arrive until after that week because of their honeymoon. Therefore when a servant came running to break the news that their master would come home earlier, every able hand became doubly busy.

Tim and Bennett were first to arrive at the mansion. With them were a doctor, Mr. Bennett, and Claire’s father. However, it was only Timothy who was waiting at the front door. He carefully assisted Nick up to the master’s bedroom. He was a few inches shorter than Nick, and was a bit on the narrow side. He probably weighed less than the taller guy, but Tim carried most of his friend’s weight up the flight of stairs. The physician followed them closely as they entered the room.

Mr. Bennett, on the other hand, stopped Claire when she tried to follow. “The place is not for a lady,” he reminded the bride. “Let us wait here for any news.”

The news came about an hour after. Bennett got to his feet quickly after the door to the master’s bedroom opened. He walked up to the physician, and the two talked in hushed tones. Once they were done, Bennett turned to Claire. “Darling, Nicholas is in no apparent danger. The injury was stitched close again and he should not be exerting too much effort to prevent this from happening again. If you would like to see him, the physician said he gave him something that will help him rest better, but Nick is currently conscious. The medicine might take effect in a few minutes yet.”

“It is something a lady of gentle upbringing such as yourself should not see and could not handle. Please leave it to the physicians. Rest assured, I am fine.”

“Oh Nick, I can handle anything you can handle,” she argued, though immediately gave a sheepish grin. “All right, maybe not anything,” Claire admitted, “but I just want to be here for you.” It was no use. The new bride sighed, temporarily forgetting about her own despair until he called her Mrs. Rochford. At that even her forced smile disappeared, though her hand stayed on his thigh until they arrived at the estate.

It was difficult to wait. If Mr. Bennett hadn’t indicated he would stay outside with her, along with the Duke, Claire would have protested. As it was, she would only be taking up space and of course be no help at all. Just the thought of blood running down his paled side sickened her. While waiting just outside the bedroom Claire couldn’t sit still, despite her father asking her time and time again to stop pacing from window to window. “Father. It is my wedding day and my husband, whether we get along or not, is in more pain that I can imagine. Please for heaven’s sake just let me be!” The Duke sighed, though her anxious pacing was only unsettling him even more.

Finally the door opened. Claire stayed behind Mr. Bennett, waiting patiently for the news to be passed on. It only made things worse how they spoke in such whispers. Did that mean it was news a family member should break to her? Thankfully that wasn’t the case…when Nick’s father let her know he was recovering she let out a sigh of relief, smiling back at the Duke. She would have had a much harder time without them.

If you would like to see him, the physician said he gave him something that will help him rest better, but Nick is currently conscious. The medicine might take effect in a few minutes yet.”

“Of course! Thank you, Mr. Rochford,” Claire said, though she hadn’t even finished before taking steps to get around him and into the master bedroom. The absence of bloody rags and bandages around the bed only made her wonder more how bad the wound was. He seemed so alone in such a large bed, but just as Mr. Rochford had said he was awake…barely. It was a grim sight, seeing Nick without his usual charming smile and a light in his eyes made her stomach turn. Who knew she would ever miss the features she complained most about?

“Hello Nick,” she greeted in a quiet voice, moving a chair someone had already placed at his bedside a few inches closer before taking a seat. Her strawberry blonde curls were falling and out of place from how many times she’d nervously run her fingers through her hair in the past hour. “The physician said you will be asleep soon. May I sit with you until then?” It was understandable if he didn’t want her there, but she still hoped he didn’t run her of. Besides the fact that she wanted to be with her husband in his time of need, there was a tiny detail about tonight that needed to be ironed out before he became unconscious for what might be many hours. “How are you feeling? Is the pain horrible? Be honest now, you know how I feel about you exaggerating, even if you do it for my benefit.”

Claire reached out, slipping her hands around one of his. He was cold and clammy, which didn’t help settle her nerves at all. “Nick, you need proper rest and a bed to yourself. I would be moving around far too much if I stayed here, you know that. Everyone will understand if I stay in a guest bedroom tonight, which I plan on doing. I just wanted to let you know in case you wake up in the middle of the night. I-“ And this was the hardest part, for she did not wish to start off their marriage this way, but it was the only way to assure he would not know she was out of the house. “I think it best if we leave each other be through the night until morning. Every night. Time apart will help the days together become easier to cope with, don’t you agree?” How silly she must seem to be talking of this when he had only minutes to speak with her. Even she felt guilty and almost took it back.

Claire didn’t plan on leaving his side once the sun was up, but telling him that would cause her request to make no sense at all. So she cleared her throat, quickly trying to change the subject. “I truly am glad you’re all right. Can I bring you anything now? What can I do to make this easier?” her question was sincere as she squeezed his hand, even more so with the guilt of her previous words bearing down on her. “Would you like to see your father? He’s right outside, I can fetch him.”

The tending physician was a middle-aged man named Francis McQuerin. He was a military doctor who was a dear friend of Lawrence Bennett. Needless to say Dr. McQuerin saw through the masks these gentlemen wore and he was definitely not new to Nick’s risk taking.

“I did tell you to stay put, Mr. Rochford,” he scolded, pulling bloody gloves off his hands. “And you had to go the extra mile to defy my mandate. Did I fail to mention last night that one or more of your vital organs might have been pierced by the bullet?”

By the time the procedure was completed, Nick couldn’t find it in him to argue or disagree with anybody, most of all, his doctor. Nicholas coughed then winced at the unexpected pain from the injury. He remained as still as possible, allowing the assistant to finish wrapping the bandage around his middle section. The doctor confirmed that his liver was indeed injured, but he need not worry because if it were fatal Nicholas would already be dead. The thought was not reassuring, and Nick was certain the doctor didn’t mean for it to be reassuring, especially after he referred to Nick’s bloody clothing which were at the foot of the bed.

“I believe this is not your first time being shot at?”

“No doctor,” he answered truthfully, though weakly. “However, I can say that this is the most painful injury I had so far.”

The doctor smirked and looked his patient down from his spectacles. “I do hope you learn something from this ordeal, Mr. Rochford. The blood you carelessly threw away is a significant amount. Had you not conceded to return to the manor, I believe you shall die by your own foolishness alone come nightfall.”

He just nodded, like an obedient schoolboy, as Dr. McQuerin’s assistant helped him to lie down on the bed. “Drink this,” the doctor instructed and Nick did as was told. It was one of the rare moments when such obedience was observed from Nicholas, but then every ounce of energy seemed to have left his body after enduring the procedure. His remaining strength was wasted by listening to the doctor lecturing him about his health and decisions.

“I will now leave you and fetch whoever wanted to see you,” he said after his assistant and he finished cleaning up the room. Clean sheets were pulled up to his chest, covering his unclothed skin, except for his arms.

“Would you please ask my father to come in?”

The doctor nodded before he was out of Nick’s sight. He needed to talk to Bennett about what to do next, his plans and where he had scribbled them down, who were the people to talk to, and where to find these people. There had to be someone to do the job while he was restricted by the damned injury. Nick was therefore both annoyed and pleased when it was Claire who sat beside the bed and not Lawrence Bennett. He was annoyed because he bloody needed to speak with Bennett. On the other hand, he was pleased to see his wife loom over him with concern on her face. He may not love the woman, and she may not love him, but she did care for his well-being. That was enough for now.

He smiled weakly at her, though he reached out and pushed some stray strands of hair behind her ear. “It doesn’t hurt as much. Do not worry over me,” he lied. As he placed his hand down to the bed, she reached out and captured it in hers.

“Nick, you need proper rest and a bed to yourself. I would be moving around far too much if I stayed here, you know that. Everyone will understand if I stay in a guest bedroom tonight, which I plan on doing. I just wanted to let you know in case you wake up in the middle of the night. I-“

The smile slowly vanished from his face. He was feeling groggy, but he fought against the strong urge to just shut his eyes and fall asleep. He had to hear what she was proposing.

“I think it best if we leave each other be through the night until morning. Every night. Time apart will help the days together become easier to cope with, don’t you agree?”

“Every night?” he repeated, though she quickly changed the topic and asked him what she could do for him. Nick shook his head, his brown hair was ruffled and somewhat wet. “If that is what you want, Claire,” he answered sounding defeated. Even an argument with Claire was not enough motivation. He looked up at her emerald eyes. “I cannot blame you for not liking me. I have led you on and then left you alone for two weeks. Two weeks without a word or a note. And then when I finally show my face to you, I start saying the most foolish of things.” He closed his hand over her fingers and tightened his hold. “I am sorry. I apologize for my behavior, and more than that I’m sorry that you had to marry me. But one day – someday – I will make it up to you.”

Nick used his elbows to push his body up from the bed. He bit back a wince when his side protested, but pushed onward until he was sitting. His free hand cupped Claire’s cheek then he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. He leaned into her, tilting her face up so he could have better access to her soft lips. Then his hand buried itself in her blonde hair, pulling pins and liberating her long locks.

When he pulled away, his eyelids were extraordinarily heavy, but he planted one last kiss on her forehead before he let himself lie back down. “And now I can die happy,” he said with a smile before closing his eyes.

“I cannot blame you for not liking me. I have led you on and then left you alone for two weeks. Two weeks without a word or a note. And then when I finally show my face to you, I start saying the most foolish of things. I am sorry. I apologize for my behavior, and more than that I’m sorry that you had to marry me. But one day – someday – I will make it up to you.”

Claire swallowed hard, unsure how to respond to such a heartfelt apology. She actually wondered for a moment or two if she could perhaps believe him this time. When she had finally found her words Nicholas started to sit up, alarming her. “You can’t- that’s not good for you,” she protests, but quieted as soon as his fingers brushed against her skin. Even Claire could appreciate how much effort he was putting toward a single kiss, the first since they became husband and wife. Shivers ran down her back as his fingers tangled in her hair, the smallest noise of surprise and longing coming from her as he pulled away.

“And now I can die happy.”

“No!” Claire replied, sitting up straight with tears welling up. “That’s the most awful thing to say in this situation! You can’t say all that then speak of dying, you must get better! You’re the only one in the world that would ever say such sweet things, lies or not. Tomorrow-“ Her crying, on the verge of being hysterical, must have been loud enough for those outside the bedroom to hear because within moments the Duke and the doctor were both back inside.

“And you thought you could be in here during the physicians work,” her father grumbled, gently putting a on her waist and the other on her shoulder, guiding her away from the bed.

“But he said the most horrible thing!” she sniffed, looking at the men as if they were the ones overreacting.

“He’s exhausted, Claire, he won’t even remember it in the morning. Come get some lunch, leave him be dear.”

Lunch? Was it really only midday? Claire walked with Lucas out the door and down the hallway. “Please just go home, father. Nick is fine, I am fine. If you stay much longer it will become painfully obvious to the staff back home that something is wrong, and we know how much they gossip,” she said, giving a smile that her heart definitely wasn’t in. “Mr. Rochford will be here and if anything happens you will be the first I contact. I promise.” Claire raised up to kiss his cheek as he sighed with a small nod.

“All right, I should make sure everyone has left the reception. Take care of him, and no more tears,” he replied, giving his final goodbyes before leaving. Claire took in a deep, calming breath, her gaze finally turning to her new “father in law”. “For some reason I still feel like a guest in your house, even though this isn’t your home at all,” she told him quietly, looking back toward the master bedroom with her hands on her stomach. She was afraid if she held them anywhere else she would fidget. Her eyes seemed glazed over, like she was looking through him, not at him. She was sick, sick over a silly man that said silly things. Claire grew angry at herself, knowing tonight should be what she was truly worried about. “You may stay as long as you wish, of course, as can his…cousin, was it? You two can pick any bedroom you want…I honestly don’t remember where they are. I will make sure staff checks on Nick regularly. As for lunch, I’m not hungry.” Claire gave a polite curtsey and nod before leaving, looking for the closest bedroom to take a nap. She would need it before tonight.

*****

Claire stared out the window as she lay on her bed, fully clothed with a cloak bundled in her arms. She’d spent a good portion of the evening observing the grounds outside that window, the room overlooking a few other houses and room for a garden just outside. Now it was covered in darkness, only the moonlight there to put chilling shadows over the length of their property. With one final thought about Nick, one that she couldn’t act on by visiting him, Claire slid off the bed and exited the bedroom as quietly as she could. It was one she had found closest to an exit, a door that led to the back where she’d just been looking.

Claire wore a simple, dark blue dress beneath the cloak she slung on as she hurried away from the estate, careful to look behind her for anyone that might be watching, or worse following. The last thing she wanted was to drag anyone else into what could be a dangerous situation. Belgrave Square wasn’t terribly far away, which was a plus with it being the middle of the night. Nothing was more suspicious than a woman walking alone after sunset. Also, the Square was grand enough that she should be able to blend in with the scenery when she arrived.

Her stomach sank lower and lower as she stepped closer to the designated location. There he was, she would recognize his figure anywhere. He knew her by her voice, of course, it was much too distinguishable for anyone to do as Nick had the previous night and lie about her identity. “Sir? Please let’s make this quick, you know I hate meeting at night,” she said as soon as they were close enough to speak within a tight alleyway, the long shadows of the buildings around making them invisible to prying eyes.

“Do you think I would not ask you to come unless it’s important?” Silence. “I trust now that the wedding is over you will get back to your job, your duty?” Claire frowned, wishing he could see the displeased look on her face. It wasn’t her duty…was it?

“I’m doing my best. My husband was injured, but I hope he may still be up for a smaller, more private party that still consists of the persons I need to get close to,” she explained, sounding a bit exhasperated.

“Injured? On your wedding day? How?” he asked, sounding a little too curious. Claire didn’t notice it, only waved her hand in the air. “Oh, it’s not important. But I promise I will keep to what I said. May we go now?”

“No. That is not what I brought you here for, Miss Abbot. The enemy has captured one of our own- Calvin Holmes. He needs to be…let go before he gives away any information. He is a strong man, but I do not expect him to last long if and when they resort to torture. I need you to help him end it.”

“The enemy? Calling my country that is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think? We’re doing this for the good of both sides, they are not the enemy. And you want me to not rescue him, but kill him, is that what you’re saying? Why me!” Claire immediately defended, but her contact grasped for the back of her neck with one hand and put the other over her mouth, making her realize she’d gotten louder in her frustration.

“Shut up, woman!” he hissed, electing a small cry from Claire. Knowing struggling would get her nowhere she went still, waiting for him to release her. “It has to be you because you are the only one who has any chance of getting close to him. At all, especially without causing more people to get caught. Two, Claire it’s time you stepped it up, especially with Calvin gone. Get the information we need, and get our man out of their hands. My way.” With a growl in those last words he pressed a small pill into the palm of her hand, finally pulling away. “Make him take it, he knows you’re with us and he’ll know what to do. If you use a weapon they’ll know someone else was involved.”

Claire stood there for a moment, staring at the tiny white pill that barely stood out in the dark. She was dumbfounded. Killing your own…it didn’t sound right, but arguing at this point would probably only cause her to have the same fate. “Anything else?”

He stepped back, giving her a shake of his head that she couldn’t see. “Get it done quick, Claire. By any means necessary. You’re the Duke’s daughter, a woman, I’m sure you can figure it out.” With that he walked off, leaving her standing alone with a pill in her hand and tears in her eyes. All she could do was hurry back home and hide the silent killer in an envelope within a dresser inside the guest bedroom. What had she gotten herself into…

The curtains were still drawn shut, but that didn’t stop the sunlight from lighting up the bedroom. Nicholas indeed slept through the entire day and woke up with a headache the following morning. His first thought was to get up and draw the curtains apart to allow more light to enter the room, but he found that when he tried to sit that such a menial task was very painful. Therefore, with a grunt, Nick allowed himself some more rest and laid his head back on the pillow.

That was when he realized that there was somebody else in the room with him. Nick found her resting her head on her arms, which were folded on the bed right beside his hand. Their fingers were barely touching, but it might be correct to guess that at one point Claire was holding his hand. Did she stay the whole night despite of what she said?

Nick left her alone and let his eyes wander around the room. On the bedside table, he found a tray of what he assumed was his breakfast. He couldn’t see what it was that the cook prepared for him because it was still covered, but beside the tray was a book. Nick reached far enough to retrieve the book. He was about to browse through the pages when a note fell to his chest.

Nick,

I thought you might get bored.

-Timothy

There was something odd that he noticed though. He counted three pages with dog ears, but the triangular fold from the corner of the paper varied in size. Nick looked for the words where the tip pointed to. Not surprisingly it contained a simple message – “He. Wouldn’t. Talk” All the more reason he wanted to be back on his feet and into the heart of the action. He did not enjoy the interrogation process, especially the part where he had to break the person’s will, but it was a vital part of information gathering. If this one that they caught would just cooperate, they could finish the assignment faster. The sooner it was over, the sooner he could get back to he and Claire could get back to their respective lives.

Nick closed the book and placed it down beside him as carefully as possible so that he wouldn’t disturb Claire, who he just remembered was also in the same room as him. The sooner the mission was over, the sooner their marriage would end. He turned to her. She had a very peaceful face when asleep, so very far from the angry bride he married the day before. Her facial features were relaxed and her lips were… Nick stopped his thoughts from going further. She was a beautiful lady, that was a given. There was nothing wrong with admiring her beauty, but it had to end at admiration. Then again, he remembered their kiss, the way she responded and how it made him feel.

Not able to stop himself, Nick allowed the knuckles of his hand to lightly touch her cheek, tracing the curve from her cheekbone to her jaw before he propped himself on one elbow and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He wanted to bury his hand in her hair ag—

Nicholas cursed under his breath and crossed his arms about his chest as he looked away. Where was his self control when he needed it the most?

Claire awoke at the light touch of her husband’s fingertips, a small groan coming from her at the feel of how stiff her back was. It’d been a long night for the duke’s daughter. Even after she arrived back at the estate and had changed into her white nightgown she couldn’t sleep. She sat in that lonely, dark guest bedroom curled up, listening to the sound of a grandfather clock ticking away down the hallway. She would cry, think on how she was going to accomplish her given tasks, then cry some more.

Eventually the young woman found herself wearily walking down to Nick’s bedroom, feet dragging. Only then, with her body stretched from the chair to the bed and her hand around his, did she finally find rest. With another noise of displeasure at being woken she sat up a few inches, taking a few moments to become alert enough to remember why she was in such an uncomfortable position.

“Oh!” That small word was filled with all the relief and happiness she felt at seeing him awake again. Claire stood, stretching with a small yawn. “Thank God you’re awake. I wasn’t sure…well, you’re conscious now, that’s all that matters,” she smiled, reaching up to make sure her the ribbon in her hair was still in place after sleeping. Her white nightgown came down just below her knees and had elbow length sleeves. Even if she’d wanted to sleep somewhere else the staff had brought all her clothes to this room.

After the harsh words and instruction she’d been given by those she’d trusted, after the comment made to her at the ceremony, not to mention all that had been said before she even met Nick…it was good to see those gorgeous eyes open again. It felt like her entire world was crashing down, making things that were tolerable before feel like the last straw now. At this point she needed an anchor before she drown in a sea of self-loathing, doubt, and uncertainty of the future. Hopefully Nick could at least be that for her. Besides, focusing on him rather than her fears didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“How are you feeling this morning? It’s the seventeenth, the day after our wedding so you weren’t out that long,” Claire assured him, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher beside the covered silver tray of food. “If you want more medication you can let me know. Are you hungry?” she asked sleepily, moving to sit beside him on the bed until she realized what she was doing, jumping back up. What if moving the mattress caused more pain? “I sent everyone else away this morning. I told them I would take care of you, which I will. I know this is the very last place you want to be, so I want to do what I can to get you back out there doing…what you do,” she said slowly, remembering she didn’t know exactly what Nick did with his time.

Claire put the back of her hand to his forehead, smiling weakly. “You don’t seem to have a fever, that’s good news. Oh, Timothy dropped this off earlier this morning,” she continued, pointing to the book . “I didn’t realize you like to read. I can read it to you if you want, I’m quite good at narrating aloud, I think,” she smirked, sitting back down with a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry. I talk a lot when I’m nervous. Fear not, I’ve invited someone over for tea this afternoon so you won’t have to deal with me all day.” The wife of someone who should be able to get her foot in the door when it came to getting information on the prisoner. Her hope was to schedule a dinner that would turn into information on where exactly her partner in a way turned victim was. “But if you’re stuck here, I want to try and make it as painless as possible, and I’m not talking about the wound,” Claire said, reaching out to affectionately put a hand on his head, burying the tips of her fingers into his hair. “I know we got off to a rocky start. How can I make you happier right now?” The young woman bent to kiss those perfect brown locks, keeping the contact for a few moments longer than necessary.

She wasn’t saying all this because of his apology the day before. In fact, she honestly didn’t believe a word he had said, and wouldn’t believe anything he told her in the future…but Claire had made a decision after her hysterical crying the night before. No matter what was said or what happened, Nick hadn’t actually done anything to her, and she needed somebody close, trustworthy or not. Maybe he just needed to be shown a little kindness instead of her assuming he should give it first. Being married to his work wasn’t a crime, especially when it was no helping to support her. Plus his lips…to taste them again wouldn’t be so bad. Nobody else had ever kissed her like that before. So she smiled, bending to make eye contact. "Tell me. I know this isn't the Paris you were looking forward to."

Nicholas was surprised at his wife’s attitude that morning. She was nothing like the woman who met him at the end of the aisle and told him to bite his tongue when he tried to apologize. The woman sitting beside his bed was kind and gentle, she even promised to take care of him. It made Nick wonder what he did right. Or perhaps he should concentrate on what he did wrong. Whatever she was doing might be part of her plan to retaliate. Therefore, when she mentioned that she sent everyone away, Nick stared at her asking, “Have you finally decided to kill me?”

His voice came out raw and still a bit sleepy. It was then he realized how dry his throat felt and how empty his stomach was. He hadn’t really eaten any decent meal since the night before he got shot.

However, when she buried her fingertips into his hair, he sighed and closed his eyes. How did she intend to kill him? And what was that she said about inviting someone over? He meant to ask who she invited, but had completely forgotten about it – that and the fact that he was hungry – especially when she bent down and kissed him.

When Nick felt Claire finally pull apart from him, he opened his eyes and found her staring down at him. She was not going to make his work easier. When he saw her for the first time wearing her wedding dress, he quietly thanked his handler that he chose a lovely bride to be his wife, but now he was thinking it was more of a curse than a blessing.

All these is not real, he reminded himself.

”Tell me. I know this isn't the Paris you were looking forward to," she demanded softly, referring to her question about how she could make him happier. He wanted to tell her to please leave him alone with his thoughts, or to send a note to his father to see him, but neither of the two was reasonable. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to spend the morning with Claire. Bennett told him to stay out of their assignment anyway.

But then he noticed the dark circles under her beautiful eyes and the puffiness surrounding it. She had cried. No, more than just cried, she might have cried the whole night. Nick frowned. “Have I done something to make you cry?” he asked, pushing himself to a sitting position which forced her to back away. The sheet fell to his lap as he clutched at his wound then leaned back against the headboard breathing hard. He stayed that way for a few moments, fighting for a steady breathing. There was a fist-sized red stain on the bandages wrapped around his torso, just beneath his ribs. “What time did you sleep last night? Come here and sit with me.” He reached for her hand and tugged her towards him.

Just this once, he told himself. Just that morning, because Bennett had forbidden him to interfere with the assignment, he would have to find other ways to entertain himself.

“Have you had breakfast?” he asked, using one hand to balance the tray from the bedside table to his lap. Nick lifted the cover to find that his breakfast consist of gruel and water. He looked at Claire then back to his food – the first he would eat after missing breakfast, lunch, and dinner on his wedding day – then back to Claire. He thought it was the doctor’s instructions to feed him soft food that would be easily digested. It was reasonable, and he wasn’t even sure he could hold the food down, but after missing a number of meals, he expected a better tasting alternative to gruel. Nick aimed one of his charming smiles at Claire. “You know that I will always provide for you.” He shoveled a spoonful and raised it a few inches above the bowl. “In sickness and in health,” the young man added quoting their vows while raising the spoon higher. “I wouldn’t want you to get hungry, especially after you took care of me the whole night, dear wife. Come on, share this with me. Didn’t you want to make me happier right now?”

Nick raised the spoon to her mouth, grinning. “Come on, now. Don’t be shy. It’s just you and me in the house all morning.”

“Have you finally decided to kill me?”

Claire couldn’t help but laugh, the sorrows that had grown so much in the dark of night feeling as if they were being swept under the bed. Not gone, never gone…just pushed away to deal with later. “No, not yet. I just want to make peace. There is more wrong in this world than an arranged marriage, and certainly worse men to be in said arranged marriage with. I’m tired of being angry with you,” she answered.

“Have I done something to make you cry?”

“Hm?” Wonderful, she must still be showing signs of the tears she shed last night. No surprise there. “Oh- no, no. Just a little overwhelmed, I suppose. Nothing you need to worry yourself with.”

“What time did you sleep last night? Come here and sit with me.”

Claire sighed, reluctantly moving onto the bed with him, laying her legs out parallel with his. “If that’s what you want. And I don’t remember. It was late, I’m still a little tired.” A lot tired, and the bed felt incredibly comfortable compared to the stiff chair. “Nick do be careful moving about like this…the doctor won’t be in to change your bandages for a couple hours yet and I doubt you want me doing it. You’re already bleeding through them,” she sighed, looking down at his side.

And then he requested the worst thing possible. Just as he’d been uncovering his breakfast Claire had been so thankful it wasn’t hers, that she could go on without eating until lunch…he guilted her into taking the first taste. “Oh, you are cruel!” she playfully moaned, wrinkling her nose at just the sight of the spoonful he was holding out for her. “If this is honestly the one thing in all of London that will make you happiest, more than anything else…” she replied before hesitantly taking the single bite. As soon as she swallowed Claire glared at Nicholas, pushing the empty spoon away and his hand away. “I tell you I want cake after we get married, and you give me gruel! Are you hinting at what I have to look forward to? Do remember I’m the one that can get you something actually edible for lunch. So you better play nice. I know where the strawberries and other goodies are.”

Claire lightly placed her hand on his stomach, her eyes innocently trailing down to the skin a single finger touched below the bandages. “Nick? You are dressed beneath these covers, aren’t you?” she asked, those now alert, cautious eyes flickering back up to meet his. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know,” she said with the slight blush of the virgin she was, quickly trying to change the subject. “I went out for a just a few minutes, visited Nightshade. Groomed him myself, though he doesn’t seem to be very fond of me at first.”

Surprisingly she did what he asked her and ate the spoonful of gruel with very little protest. If Claire was going to be that cooperative then Nicholas had no problem with getting sick every other day. He smiled sweetly while she showed her displeasure via a very sharp glare. “I tell you I want cake after we get married, and you give me gruel! Are you hinting at what I have to look forward to? Do remember I’m the one that can get you something actually edible for lunch. So you better play nice. I know where the strawberries and other goodies are,” she commented.

Nick laughed. Although as soon as he did, he discovered another menial task which was too much for his weakened state. The sound was abruptly cut and the bowl of gruel nearly overturned as he clutched at his side, smiling sheepishly. “I just found out that I am incapable of laughing,” he admitted. “You might have had the cake you wanted if you didn’t shoo away every single one of our house staff just so you can have me to yourself.” He shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. The taste was not awful, but it felt like slime sliding down his throat. Nick gagged, but with a look of defeat, forced his food down to his stomach. He ate a few more before turning to look at his wife. “Do you want more?” It sounded like a plea. Perhaps he should talk to the doctor and convince him that Nick can handle solid food.

Claire didn’t answer though. Instead, her hand landed lightly on his stomach. The bare skin of her soft hand was on touching his skin. She may be wed to him, and they may have shared a couple of kisses, but there was no doubt that neither of them knew the other. His kisses were calculated risks which he himself initiated, but this was an act that Claire initiated. An intimate touch, no matter how light, and he was not prepared for it. As if it was not enough awkwardness, she had to ask, “Nick? You are dressed beneath these covers, aren’t you?”

Nick choked on the food that he was about to swallow at that time. The young man coughed and grunted and winced, bending forward while placing pressure on his side. Claire might have noticed that her husband’s discomfort didn’t take more than a minute, but Nick would swear that it felt like a lifetime of dying. When he sat straight up, she was looking into his eyes and there was a faint blush that colored her cheeks. “Never mind, I don’t want to know,” she added quickly then steered to a more wholesome topic like his horse, but Nick refused to let the topic slide. His wife started it anyway.

Clearing his throat, he said, “To stop you from imagining what lies beneath the covers, let me assure you that yes, I am wearing trousers. However, should you require otherwise, I will be happy to oblige.” Then he raised his glass of milk as an act of salute for her before he slowly drank the contents. He only finished half of his bowl before he put it away. Perhaps he would eat the rest later. “You are not dressed as a lady yourself, madam,” Nick added gesturing a hand to her night gown, which had gone past her knees, revealing more of her perfect legs to her husband. “But the state allows us to be this way, as husband and wife.” He lay back down on his pillow.

“I sense that for some reasons unknown to me, you did not sleep well last night. There are dark circles under your eyes, wife. I cannot present you to the public looking tired. Just for today I will let you join me in my bed.” Besides, he felt tired himself. The long sleep didn’t seem enough to restore his lost strength, but he needed to be well soon enough if he wanted to get back into the field.

“You are not dressed as a lady yourself, madam. But the state allows us to be this way, as husband and wife.” Claire pressed her lips together in a shy but very present smile, raising her knees up and wrapping her arms around her legs, feet flat on the bedspread. She’d always cared so much about being a respected lady in society, she couldn’t remember a time when a man saw her knees, much less the thighs above them. Would Nick prove to be the first? In fact, his offer was actually a bit disheartening. They would be doing no such thing tonight, possible ever. He had agreed to not share a bed much too quickly when sex was an option, and had agreed to sleep together all too quickly again now that it wasn’t. Maybe it was the lack of sleep causing her to overreact, but Claire’s smile faded as easily as it had come.

“I sense that for some reasons unknown to me, you did not sleep well last night. There are dark circles under your eyes, wife. I cannot present you to the public looking tired. Just for today I will let you join me in my bed.”

Claire heard his little jab at it being his bed, but she didn’t respond with a sarcastic comment as she normally would. Instead the woman took a slow steading breath, looking down into her lap as she made a decision. She had no idea how this was going to go, but right then it all seemed worth saying.

Accepting his invitation Claire silently lifted the blankets and crawled in beneath them, turning onto her side to put an arm along his lower abdomen, just below the wrapping. Her head comfortably rested in the crook of his arm, as if she’d planned on lying there the entire time.

“May I tell you something?” she asked, her quiet, timid voice so unlike how she usually acted around him it actually surprised even her. “I know I risk looking like the biggest liar you’ve ever met, but that’s why I can’t go running around London telling everyone this. I also know you have no reason to trust me…but please, as my husband, try.”

One more deep, comforting breath and she pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes as she spoke. Perhaps he would see the truth there, if not in her words. “What that man said about me sharing a bed with him months ago…Nicholas, I swear to you it wasn’t true. Just listen,” she said, her words coming faster now that she’d started. And who could interrupt her when her eyes were glistening with what little unshed tears she had left, and her voice was filled with desperation. She needed him, of all people, to believe this.

Unfortunately, with the man being her old contact there was no way Claire could tell the entire truth, but part of it… “Yes we were in his house together, and yes he took me to his bedroom, but I- I was under the impression it was for different reasons. He- he wanted to plan his wife a surprise birthday party, Nick, and I was to help. I know it was foolish on my part to have gone in. He forced a kiss on me,” she told him, which was true. He had been giving her papers kept in a locked compartment when his wife unexpectedly came home. Apparently Mr. Wallace had no shame and would rather be thought kissing Claire than be caught as a spy. She supposed telling that she’d stayed the entire morning had been his idea of fun, and insuring the attention was put on her and their scandal instead of the truth. It wasn’t fair a man could get away with such a thing…

“He lied-,” she choked, not holding back from showing how upset she was, “I do not know why he would want his wife to see such a thing, their marriage is none of my business, but it was all set up. What was I to do, I was the silly girl that went into the house to begin with, and it’s my word against his. He’s very well known, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that,” she said, as Mr. Wallace was in the overseas trading industry and was quite profitable.

“Everyone assumes I’m a whore, when I’ve never even felt a man’s touch beneath my dress, much less between-“ Claire paused, realizing she was going too far. “I’m sorry. It’s just as much as I acted like I didn’t want to enjoy your company, a part of me wanted to finally understand why it is so desired! What it feels like to be wanted like that, if only for a night! To be treasured, if not for who I am, then at least for what I have saved to give away that night. A feeling that everyone assumes I’ve had, when I haven’t even come close! And I certainly don’t have a mother to explain it all before the wedding. N-not that I don’t understand how it works,” she quickly assured him. Her blush would have come back at that point if her cheeks weren’t already red from crying so much. “It’s just- oh, nevermind. It doesn’t matter,” she sniffed, looking away and lying back down against his side. “I have said the truth- I’ve barely kissed anyone before you, Nicholas Rochford, and whether you believe it or not I know I am worth more than London thinks. If I could prove it I would, but I can’t. I’m just- I’m just so tired of feeling like I’m barely staying afloat, like I’m in over my head…” With this and her job as a spy. Perhaps it had been the wrong choice afterall. “I’m so tired, Nick…” Sleep was catching up with her, but she refused to let it take over until he’d answered. Claire continued to silently tremble as she had no more cries left in her, her eyes becoming heavy. “And Nicholas? Whatever you do right now, please do not lie to me. I understand if my story is unbelievable…you certainly wouldn’t be the first to think so, and not the last either. I will not be cross with you...unless you are not honest. I will not be able to forgive that, not on this."

They both lived in a ruthless time, when most of what mattered was the society’s opinion on one’s self. Reputation was therefore as valuable as gold and to have one’s own tarnished was sometimes worse than being disowned by the family, for it was the rest of London’s upper class who was disowning the person. Because of this, Nicholas understood what made Claire very upset. However, what he did not know yet was whether or not to believe in what the young woman just told him.

He had listened with his mouth in a flat line, and his face blank. She had stared at him the whole time, those green eyes desperate and pleading for him to believe the truth in her words. Yet there was nothing to support her words. It was indeed Mr. Wallace’s word against hers. The unfortunate thing was that in the world where they lived in, a man’s lie weighed more than the truth professed by a woman. Nick had no reason to believe her neither did he any reason to discover the truth of the matter. Her mishap made it possible for their arranged marriage to happen, and he needed the marriage to complete his mission. Therefore whether or not what she was saying was true, he was thankful that her reputation was damaged.

Whatever he was thinking need not surface though. On the outside, Nick held his wife who was trembling like a leaf in autumn. His arm tightened around her then he planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “Hush,” he murmured into her hair. “That is all in the past, Claire. You have me now.” For now, he thought. For a short while.

“I am married to you, and I have every reason to trust you.” Nick turned to his side so he could look her straight in the eye. When he agreed to marry Claire, both he and Bennett thought that she was an adulterer, whose fondness in involving herself with other married men would not complicate Nick’s secret life. He planned on allowing her to do as she pleased, even if it meant sleeping with other men. But here was a woman whose life was allegedly broken into pieces by a single lie.

Nick’s free hand touched her face. He used his thumb to wipe the remaining tears on her face then he smiled and hoped that his expression looked sympathetic and reassuring. She was correct. Everyone assumed that she was a whore and by everyone, it meant including him. But as a good husband, he cannot admit that to her face. At the same time, he cannot give in to the temptation that was her soft body pressed against him. If what she said was true, then more than ever, he could never deserve her.

Nick was already using her as a tool. He thought it utterly unfair to take advantage of their situation. After him, she could find a suitable husband whom she could really spend the rest of her life with. Maybe that man would marry her for love, or maybe not, but that man could never be him.

“It doesn’t matter that we got married because of our fathers. I agreed to take you as my wife even after hearing about the rumors about you circulating in London. This means I will accept and will tolerate you whether or not the rumors are true. So don’t cry, Claire,” he told her. And by saying those words, he did lie, but what was he to say that will not make her more upset? That he married her because she was what Bennett called the lowest hanging fruit? Meanwhile, the same hand that wiped her tears moved to her hair to pull the ribbons out one by one. Then he made sure her hair was free by running his hand on its soft length. “I like you better smiling, even if you are smiling because you have thought of a perfectly evil plan to get back at me for something I did to upset you. And I like touching your hair. Not to mention kissing you. Here.” His thumb brushed over her lips lightly then the same hand touched her chin and tilted her face up so he could have better access to her soft lips. Nick kissed her, gently at first, gaining momentum until they were both out of breath. He pulled away only to turn his attention to the line of her jaw, which he traced with light kisses. “You are a wonderful person, Claire Elizabeth Rochford,” he whispered to her ear, breathing heavy, deliberately attaching his name to hers. “And now we are stuck with each other. Together.”

He withdrew and lay down on his back, while her head was on his shoulder and her arm rested on his stomach. Staring up at the ceiling, he added, “Stop thinking about the past or what London thinks. You have me now. As your husband, it’s my duty to stand by you so go to sleep. Everything is going to be alright.” Nick smiled and looked at her sideways. “Trust me, everything is going to be alright.”

His words were exactly what she needed, and fortunately whatever was a lie fooled her. Claire recognized nowhere in that did he say they would get to know one another at a later date, but she didn’t care. He had promises of being there for her, of trusting and providing, and with that she settled into his side and closed her eyes, a yawn escaping when she’d finally stopped shaking. The kisses had been…an entirely new experience, and she found herself wanting more despite the overwhelming sadness she’d been feeling.

By the end of it she may not trust him, and she knew he would let her down in some way in the future, but at that moment she didn’t care. He was hers alone until the injury healed and he was off to do business again, and he definitely knew how to seductively whisper in her ear. His lips tickled at her hair, and for once she didn’t mind the sound of his name with hers. “I love when you touch my hair. It’s the most wonderful feeling I’ve ever had,” she murmured, finally at peace. “Thank you, Nicholas. I promise I’ll be a better wife than you ever thought possible. We’ll be happy here together, just wait and see.”

With that she was out, breathing lightly, rhythmically, her chest rising and falling against his side as she slept. It was a peaceful sleep, and she stayed right at his side for quite some time. Eventually, when the day could no longer be put off and Claire had to prepare for company, she left Nick alone with his cold gruel and book. Once again she was content to be with him, but more important things than her marriage needed to be attended to.

******

“Lucy Hawthorne, I’ve been anxiously waiting for you to come all day.” Her voice was filled with excitement as she greeted the woman she honestly had only met a few times.. She was the wife of Matthew Hawthorne, the very spy locked away that she had every intention of killing before the day was over. The slightly older woman in front of her looked about as tired and heartbroken as one would expect, but Claire still wasn’t sure how much she knew and would thus pretend she knew nothing about it until she brought it up. Who was being detained wasn’t exactly public knowledge, but he’d been missing for days. Whether she knew why or not, Lucy would be confused, upset, and vulnerable.

“Claire, I thought you would be off on your honeymoon. I was surprised when I got your invitation. Is it just us?” The red-headed woman asked, handing her wrap to the doorman before following Claire to the sitting room. Her host requested the tea and cake be brought before sitting on the couch, gesturing to Lucy to do the same.

“Yes, it’s just us. Poor Nick isn’t feeling well, so we decided to postpone the trip.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Lucy still sounded distracted, but as a proper woman would didn’t reveal what was upsetting her. “Well, it was a beautiful ceremony. I cannot believe the venue, I didn’t think you could get any better than the church Mathew and I…” She trailed off, tears appearing in her eyes. The sight of a beautiful woman that was looked up to seeming so lost and upset was heart wrenching. If only Claire could actually help.

“Dear…” The snacks had just shown up, but she waved them away. The maid simply put them on the table as Claire scooted closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Lucy, I’ve never seen you look so sad, your smile is always there every time I see you! Does this have anything to do with your husband not being present at the wedding…?” As if she would have noticed such a thing in that huge crowd. “Is he not well either?”

“Oh Claire, I was going to try and wait to speak to you about it, but it’s the most awful thing and I cannot forget for even one meal. How am I supposed to? We’re not that close, and here I am…” Claire quickly gave Lucy a handkerchief, silently encouraging her to go on. “Claire, he was taken. They’re- they’re accusing him of being a spy against Britain. A spy, for goodness sake! Can you imagine my sweet Matthew doing anything to hurt-“ The woman started crying again, covering her face with her hands and the handkerchief.

Claire took a deep breath, ready to play her part. “Oh, Lucy…” She put a hand in her lap, trying to take her time, seem like the ideas were slowly coming to her as their conversation went on. “What gave them the idea he was involved in such a thing?”

“They found papers that he’d signed…something like that, I don’t know. I was barely listening by the time they tried to explain, I was just in awe. The documents had to be forged, that’s all I can think.”

“Of course they were! How often have you seen him, when did this happen, Lucy?”

“Just a few days ago. I was allowed one visit with my Matthew and ever since they give me grief when I try and see him again. Haven’t gone today, I just- I’m afraid of what I’ll find. Has he eaten? What if they don’t let me in, because you know one day they will stop letting me in. Then I really won’t know what to do. Lucy was distraught, and for good reason. Her husband probably wasn’t being well taken care of. “Oh Claire, you can’t tell anyone! If they found out I don’t know how I’ll handle this…”

“Shh, there, there. Lucy, you have a right to see your husband. How about this- I have sandwiches fixed for us, but instead we’ll bring them to poor Matthew. He deserves a good meal, no innocent man should go without one. I don’t want to hear any arguing. You cannot be frightened, and you cannot show fear in front of these men. Just remember they’re doing what they think is best, but if we’re confident and promise a short visit I’m sure they’ll let us in. And I’ll be sure to tell them all I’ll complain to my father if we’re denied a simple visit.”

Lucy looked up at Claire with those big brown eyes, her nose running from crying so much. “You’d- you’d do that for me? You’d come with me?”

“Of course, it’s the least I can do. Here I was about to go on talking about my silly wedding and you have a mountain of problems on your shoulders. Wait here and I’ll let Nicholas know I’m leaving, fix that meal, and we’ll be on our way.”

As soon as she left Lucy by herself Claire went back to the bedroom and pulled that little capsule from the envelope, letting it roll around in the palm of her hand. She had to be the worst friend that ever existed. With a shake of her head Claire went to the kitchen, slipped it into one of the sandwiches, one she could point out on sight because it had more meat. She then put them all in a small basket and covered it with a cloth- simple, no guard could say no to a woman wanting to feed a man. Satisfied, she then went to the master bedroom. “Nicholas?” Claire whispered, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Darling, I need you to listen for just a moment. I know you’re tired, so I’ll leave you be after this. A wonderful friend of mine, Lucy, is in a bit of trouble and I’m going to spend some time with her, offer some support. Nothing for you to worry about, of course, but I don’t know when I’ll be back. I…” What was their sleeping arrangement again, or had they decided on anything yet? “If I get back early enough I’ll see you tonight, if not…till morning, Nicolas. Rest well, I’ll send the doctor in to change those bandages for you.” She was in a hurry and certainly didn’t have time to chat. The sooner this day was over and she’d accomplished her goal, the better.

Nick stayed awake long after his wife fell asleep at his side. He stared long at the ceiling, at nothing in particular, listening to her even breathing and wondering what was going on outside their room. Many hours had already passed since he was cut off from the operation and the only news that he got was a three-worded message telling him that their captive wouldn’t talk. He wondered if it meant that Matthew Hawthorne was denying the accusation despite the glaring evidence against him. It was difficult to accuse a member of the ton, even if he had no title attached to his name. Blood was thick and family ties were strong. He wished his partner had brought him London Daily News instead of the book, then he could have read what was happening outside his room.

Sighing heavily, he turned to his wife. Claire Elizabeth Rochford, he had told her. The name felt right when he said it and for the first time he didn’t see any objection flash on her face. He was being too hard on her thinking that she was a whore while he pretended to be the perfect gentleman. What if what she was saying was true? Nick kissed the top of her head then closed his eyes, avoiding the thoughts that would follow.

The rest of the day was a blur. Nick drifted in and out of consciousness. His dreams mingled with reality in one confusing memory. At one point he felt his wife get up and he thought he groaned in protest, but was not sure that he really did. Then there was a rustling sound inside the bedroom followed by light. And there was sound of a chair being dragged on the floor before he heard Claire’s voice explaining how she would go somewhere with a friend and then she was gone. Until finally somebody had the guts to shake him out of his sleep.

Nick opened his eyes only to see the doctor hovering over him. “Let me guess how you are feeling today, Mr. Rochford,” the doctor beamed at him. “You are feeling terribly weak and you blame it on the blood your body had lost. That is correct, however, it does not take a doctor to know that your body will not recover on its own without proper nutrients fed to it.”

Nick yawned and pushed himself up using his elbows, but the doctor and his assistant was there to help him sit up so the task was infinitely easier. He looked around the room and at the tray at his bedside. There was only him, the doctor and his assistant. “Where’s Claire?” he asked.

“Ah, your wife,” the doctor drawled, retrieving the tray and setting it down on the bed. “Do you require her to feed you your lunch?” Nick only glared at him, but the doctor didn’t seem to take offense. “Your wife and a friend went out earlier this afternoon.”

So it was already past lunch time. He had almost slept the day away again. Then he remembered a dream, or was it real, about Claire telling him that she was going somewhere. Nick nodded, watching the doctor reveal sandwiches for Nick’s lunch.

“We’ll try solid food,” the doctor explained. “Eat slowly. If you can handle this then maybe we will have you returned to your regular diet. That means no more gruel.”

“That is too bad, I did enjoy my breakfast,” he answered dryly.

The doctor snorted. “After you’re done eating, we will have the wound cleaned.”

“I understand, thank you.”

The doctor turned to leave. “I will be in your parlor drinking tea with my assistant. We will be back in a few minutes, but do not feel the need to rush your meal. Remember to chew thoroughly and eat slowly.”

Nick nodded, taking a small bite of his sandwich. “And by the way, I had spoken with your half-French cousin,” the doctor scratched his chin and looked up thinking. “His name is Timothy, I believe. He said that he saw your wife with Mrs. Hawthorne headed for Newgate.”

***********

It was not obvious with Matthew Hawthorne’s build that he would be a difficult subject to interrogate. For one, he did not look like he had a strong will, perhaps because of the weak chin and slightly chubby physique. Then again, they had not fed him any meal since he was detained, but he still would not change his statement.

Timothy was inside the interrogation chamber staring at the thinner version of the proud Matthew. They had not yet resulted to physical damage, since this man was a brother of a Baron and there was a chance, though very slim, that he was innocent. The initial plan was to starve him to break his spirits, but the plan didn’t seem to be working and Matthew was staring back at Timothy with dark circles under his eyes.

“I know nothing of the accusations,” Matthew repeated for the hundredth time that day. “If you would please admit to your mistake and set me free this instant, then perhaps I would find mercy not to have your head for mistreating a brother to a Baron.”

“If you would only use that energy to confess the truth, then we would have been finished and you would have eaten a fairly decent meal.” Of course it might be his last meal, for if proven a traitor, the parliament and the queen would have this man hanged. Tim stood up. One more day, then perhaps he would get clearance to resort to a different method in convincing their captive that it was a good idea to share what he knew.

He was almost to the door when a guard showed up. “Sir, his wife is here to visit him.”

“Tell her no.” He looked over his shoulder at Matthew. “This is part of your punishment, Mr. Hawthorne, for making my work harder than it should be.”

“But sir,” the guard interrupted. “Mrs. Hawthorne is with the Lord Abbott’s daughter and –“

“Claire?”

“Yes, sir. Miss Claire – I mean Mrs. Rochford – the duke’s daughter. She threatens to involve the duke in the negotiation if we do not let them have a word with Mr. Hawthorne.”

“Let me out first,” Tim instructed. Nick would not like it that his wife was involving herself with these people. They had all hoped that Claire would stay out of their business and that Nick would entertain her to the point where she wouldn’t want to get out of their estate. That was why they were given such a tedious estate anyway. They had hoped that her feminine whims would keep her busy. “Let them in,” he whispered to the guard, leading them from the locked cell of Matthew. “However, wait for me to leave the premises. And whatever any of them gives to the prisoner, be sure to sample it."

"Mrs. Hawthorne brought sandwiches."

"Then be sure to taste one of her sandwiches. Be the one to choose which one to taste. If anything seems funny, do not let the prisoner have it. Do you understand?”

It was a long carriage ride to Newgate. Lucy kept going on about how horrible the government system was for incarcerating an innocent man, and how much she and Matthew were in love. One would think the two women were best friends, the way she went on. As with most that had grown accustomed to the life of high society, and even more in a moment of distress, Lucy Hawthorne was content just to get the occasional “how awful” or “I agree” from Claire to make sure she was paying attention. To make it worse, while Lucy was an attractive woman when dressed up, she was not an attractive crier, and must have not even tried to be so by the looks of her during the entire way over.

“Now Lucy, you don’t want to let Matthew know you broke down like this, do you? It will do terrible things to his courage. Be strong, no crying while we’re in there.” That bit of advice was for the both of them. Lucy nodded, accepting help to look presentable before approaching those at the gate. It took quite a bit of convincing, and a strong threat on Claire’s part to get them inside, but eventually the two women were strolling through the thick double doors at Newgate Prison.

It was eerie inside, but Claire refused to show how much it disturbed her. She had never been to a place so devoid of decoration, furniture, people…or warmth in general. No comfort was given to the visitors, which made her wonder what the cells within were like. With a deep, steadying breath Claire looked down at the wicker basket covered in cloth on her arm. She was one step closer to achieving her goal. “Claire?” Lucy’s voice brought her back, causing her to look up and see a couple men in uniform a few meters away, clearly waiting for their arrival.

“Remember what I said, Lucy. These men are just doing their job, they mean no harm,” she whispered before they were close enough for one of the men to speak to them.

“You brought food for the prisoner? He isn’t allowed any extra meals, Mrs. Rochford, I can’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow the smallest gift from his wife and I? That’s a bit harsh. If he’s here and not already dead then I’m assuming you don’t have very good evidence against the man. If that’s the case, it would be very cruel to deny him a few simple sandwiches…perhaps I should have my father look into the treatment of your prisoners, Mr…?”

The man shifted, clearly not wanting to give his name to someone who might report it to a Duke. “Fine, but I’ve been given orders to sample your fine cooking before you go in. May I?” Basically, it’s not my fault I have to do this, blame somebody else.

“Don’t try and flatter, its sandwiches not cooking. Go right ahead, my goodness you would think they were weapons, not snacks. Gentlemen it is his wife and a friend…but here.” With an annoyed sigh Claire pulled back the cloth and held one out, waiting for him to take it.

“Not that one. I get to pick.” Claire froze for the slightest second before smiling sweetly and holding out the basket. The odds of him picking were slim, surely… she’d placed it in the corner, this idiot in a nameless uniform couldn’t be the one to stop her now!

His rough fingers landed on a safe sandwich, which he thoroughly checked through piece by piece before biting into it. The other made a joke about him falling over dead, but a glare from the man who’d eaten it shut him up. “Go on in,” he said before taking a second bite. Apparently he thought the search was a bit pointless and didn’t want to sample anything else. At least he got a free sandwich out of it.

“Thank you, Claire,” Lucy breathed as soon as they were past the men. “I can’t believe the way you spoke to them.”

Claire didn’t respond, only looked forward as a door was unlocked and Matthew Hawthorne was in their sights. His pale complexion was a stark difference to the dark, grimy stone walls around him, and Lucy seemed to notice right away. “Darling! My lands look at you,” she cried out, the skirt of her dress billowing as she ran and knelt at his side, her gloved hand stroking his unshaven cheek. “Have they been treating you well? Of course not, look at you. Do you even have a proper bed?” she asked, looking about the room. He was cuffed to a thick wooden pole, the room bare except for a table against the wall and a couple chairs.

While Lucy was shocked because of his bad condition, Claire was surprised he had no missing fingers or ears. Not even a bruise! If her contact had caught an English spy, she was sure the rough treatment would have already started.

“Sweetheart, calm down,” Matthew smiled, looking into the woman’s eyes and leaning into her touch. He tried to act as if he didn’t notice Claire yet, but it was hard not to. He knew who she was, what she was. “I’m fine. I can’t imagine what they could possibly have against me, so I am sure this mistake will be worked out in no time.”

“Have you eaten? Claire was dear enough to bring you something. She helped me get in here, wasn’t that wonderful of her?” Lucy smiled at Claire, gesturing for her to come over. `She did, walking slowly as her hand slid inside the basket. She knew which one to grab, exactly where it lay beneath the cloth cover. It had been the only thing going through her mind for the past twenty minutes. Her own smile was gone, only a cold, calculating look being given to Matthew. Did he know? If he did, would he comply? Surely so, for even if he told on them it would give him away and lead to his death anyway…probably after being tortured for information. No, Matthew Hawthorne would rather die by her hand than theirs, she was sure of it.

“Here. I made it myself,” she told him, and their gaze met. He knew. She could see it in his eyes. “It’s all right,” she assured him, unsure what else to say. She was killing him, right there in front of his wife. “They won’t be hurting you.”

Lucy took the sandwich, eager to feed it to him since his hands were useless behind his back. “That’s right. As awful as this is, I love you and I just know you’ll be back home with me in no time.” Matthew swallowed with a small nod, leaning forward to kiss her.

It felt wrong to watch what she and Matthew knew were their final goodbyes. He whispered of his love, as did she, to which Claire got up and moved slowly about the room, giving them time. It would be hours before anything took effect, so he would probably die in his sleep. That was what she hoped, anyway.

“Time to go. Visiting hours are over,” came a rough voice eventually from the doorway from a man swinging a key around his finger. As if there were actually set hours, but Claire wasn’t complaining. She was ready to leave.

The rest of the night went by slowly. They left, Lucy being sure to leave the remaining food on the table for him to eat later. She was dropped off at their estate before Claire rode home, glad for the silence. Once home she realized just how late it was, the clock in the foyer ticking just past nine. They must have stayed there longer than she’d thought. With a quick stop to the kitchen to have a servant serve her mixed fruit, Claire went upstairs to the master bedroom to check on her husband. The cold from the prison was still in her, and all she wanted was to slip into bed with him again. Claire hoped he was asleep, but either way she would request his company. Perhaps his presence would once again make the waking nightmares go away.

Not wanting to bother with getting a maidservant she undressed herself and got right back into a nightgown before going to the bed. It had been a long day, but they had succeeded. The British would get nothing out of Matthew Hawthorne, and certainly nothing out of her.