Circle of Spies (The Culper Ring #3)

For half a second, it pierced. He had hoped, wanted, prayed he’d been wrong in his first assumptions…but he knew well she wasn’t the same person she’d been before he arrived. Knew because his own past always cast a shadow. If anyone knew the value of the Lord’s forgiveness, it was him. He locked his gaze with hers. “It doesn’t matter.”


She looked away, her cat eyes clouded. “I daresay you’ll look at it differently when you don’t have all these other worries.”

“No, I won’t. I’ve made my share of mistakes on that front too.”

She didn’t meet his gaze again. “It is different for a man. We both know it.”

“Not in the eyes of God, and not in the eyes of love.” He pressed his lips to hers—one more time, that was all—and then pulled away. “I promise you. All that matters to me is that you love me. Now go. Pack.”

“Mari!” Barbara’s voice filtered their way from a distance.

Slade pulled away and pulled her out of the alcove. “You’d better take Barbara with you.”

Her fingers went tight around his. “Promise me you won’t try to stop them all alone. Promise me.”

The hesitation lasted only a second. He couldn’t, could he? He would fail at it all if he tried. He needed friends, needed family. Needed a plan, and he needed one fast.

He felt a warmth against his chest, odd and yet…right. Right where the book of prayers rested. “I’ll go to your granddad.” If anyone knew who he could trust, it was surely Thaddeus Lane.

“Mari!”

She glanced toward the hall and Barbara’s nearing voice, her face filled with worry. “Go. I will follow as soon as I can get us packed.”

He stole one more kiss—the last one—and sped for the door.



Marietta stepped into the hall after Slade and jumped as the door closed behind him. It sounded too final. Too hopeless, that slam of wood on wood.

“Mari!” Barbara ran down the hall, her skirts billowing behind her and her cheeks flushed. “The babe is coming at last. I need your help.”

Marietta felt the blood leave her face, rush to her middle, and twist into nausea. Little experience as she had with it, she knew childbirth was a bloody business. But this was Cora—she must do what she could.

How, though? She had promised to leave within minutes. To take Barbara with her…impossible if Cora’s babe were coming now.

Oh Lord, why all at once? Please, show me what to do.

“Marietta Hughes.” Her mother-in-law stalked her way, fury snapping. “Dallying with a hired man? I thought you better bred than that.”

Her throat tightened. Mother Hughes must have glimpsed that last kiss.

But Marietta had only to appease her for a few minutes before making her escape. “It isn’t what you think.” It was so, so much more than any dalliance. “He was merely saying goodbye.”

“Where could he possibly be going that he—” Mother Hughes cut herself off, the accusation fading. She knew. She had to know. Why else would her expression veer toward indulgent? Smoothing down her skirt, she cleared her throat. “I will overlook it this time. But if I see any more such behavior, you can be sure I will report it to my son.”

“Do what you must.” Marietta raised her chin and stormed past her toward Barbara. “Is your satchel in your room?”

Glancing once toward Mother Hughes, Barbara nodded and hurried beside her toward the stairs. “I know you will not want to be present during the birth itself, but if you could lend a hand with Elsie until Walker returns with his mother…”

She dared no response while they climbed the staircase. Only once they were in the sanctuary of Barbara’s suite of rooms, the door latched behind her, did she even take a deep breath.

Her friend turned to regard her with somber eyes. “Is something wrong? Slade has so rarely left us lately, and I would not have thought him careless enough to kiss you before an open door.”

That deep breath shook on its way out. “Can Cora be moved?”

Barbara went still. “I wouldn’t recommend it, but I suppose if it were enough of an emergency—”

“We need to leave here before Dev comes. Now. We haven’t any time to lose.”

Most people would have asked questions. Barbara just measured her quietly for a moment before the familiar shine of peace settled in her eyes. She nodded. “It will take me a few minutes to gather all we’ll need.”

God had been smiling on her the day He compelled her to this woman’s door. “Thank you. I will meet you at the carriage house.”

Footsteps sounded, loud and heavy and fast—a man’s, and he was in a hurry. Please Lord, let it be Walker, home and coming to hurry Barbara along.

But she knew the sound of Walker’s utilitarian work boots, and these struck her as far more like the softer-soled congress boots a gentleman would wear. Slade, perhaps, returned for some reason?