He exhaled. Thank you, Violet.
The two of them went about fixing plates and chatting. In the larder, Christian leaned his weight against a wooden shelf and set about re-learning how to breathe.
After some time, Sir Lewis took his leave. Christian waited until the old man’s footsteps faded. Then he waited several seconds more.
“He’s gone,” she informed him in a loud whisper.
As Christian emerged from the larder, Violet didn’t turn to him. She kept her head down, carefully staring at her hands where they pressed flat against the tile countertop.
He moved silently to her side. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I did that to protect Sir Lewis.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I haven’t decided yet what to do with you. I’m leaning toward exposing you completely, unless you tell me the whole truth. At once.”
“I have been truthful. I did not go to the West Indies as everyone believes. For the better part of the last year, I’ve been living as a Breton farmhand named Corentin Morvan.”
“But why?”
He tilted his head. “You’re an intelligent girl. Surely I needn’t spell it out.”
“So Lord Rycliff was right. You’re a spy.”
He nodded.
She whispered, “For England, I hope?”
“Violet. I can’t believe you’d even ask me that.”
“Well, what am I to think of you? Why are you even here?”
“For you. For you, darling. That much was honest too.” He cursed under his breath. “I didn’t mean for the evening to go like this. Stupid mistake, wrecking in the cove. And worse, I’ve been seen by too many people tonight. By the time I made it here, I was so cold and in so much pain, I hardly knew what I was doing. My only thought—and for a while there, I suspected it would be my last thought—was for you.”
He reached for her, but her sharp gaze had him pulling the gesture back. “I came here just to see you. I hoped to find you alone, draw you aside for a few moments’ conversation. Leave you a note, if nothing else.”
She made an indignant noise. “Another note?”
“A proper letter, more like.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “Violet, I just need a chance to explain myself. The way I should have done, before I left last year. And then I must be getting back to my ship. Somehow.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t suppose you know where I could procure some kind of—”
“Wait. Christian, if you are really working in service of the Crown, you needn’t skulk around like this. No one is more loyal to England than Lord Rycliff. Why don’t we go to him together and tell him the truth? He’d be glad to help you.”
He shook his head. “I can’t risk it. Unless he’s a fool, he’d never believe me on the strength of my word alone. And if I miss the ship…”
“What then? If you miss the ship, what would happen?”
“I’d be disavowed, most certainly. Corentin Morvan would cease to exist. I’m relatively unimportant, so my disappearance would be more of an inconvenience than anything. But all ties would be quietly severed. I’d be forced to go home to London, and my career, such as it is, would be over.”
“That doesn’t sound like such a tragedy to me. A bit of disgrace would be no more you deserve.”
“I’m sure you’re right. But a bit of disgrace is the best possible outcome.”
“And the worst?”
He shrugged and released a long, slow sigh. “Charges of treason?”
“Oh.” Worry lines creased her fair brow. “We can’t have that. Your family has suffered too much already.”
Yes, Christian thought. They certainly had suffered. And he adored her for understanding that. For thinking of them.
“I’ll help you,” she said. “I’ll help you for their sake. What is it you need?”
He ran his hands from her shoulders to her wrists. God, she was so soft. His voice went husky with emotion. “I need you, Violet. Just a little time with you. I need to hold you in my arms again and kiss you and tell you how remarkably lovely you are in green. I need make you understand why I—”
“No, no, no.” She closed her eyes, then opened them again. “I don’t mean that. If you’re going to meet up with your ship by morning, what are your immediate material needs?”
“I need a rowboat. My coat and boots. And a gun, if it can be managed.”
She nodded. “We’ll take the last part first. Follow me.”
Chapter Five
A gun, if it can be managed.
Christian laughed at his own folly. Of course a gun could be managed. He was in the house of Sir Lewis Finch, England’s most celebrated innovator of firearms. As Violet led him down the corridor, he saw weapons from the man’s famed collection lining every wall. Spears, maces, rockets, swords, daggers…
And guns. Guns by the score.
Violet led him into a narrow, dark room toward the back of the house. The stone floor chilled the soles of his bare feet.