Sins of a Ruthless Rogue

“Once, near Paris, we had to ford a river to escape a French patrol. We ended up taking shelter in an old farmhouse. The French

army had already stripped it of anything of use, so Madeline suggested . . .” His words trailed off and a frown darkened his face. “Go

to your bed.”

“Did you love her?” The words came out before she could stop them. She could only blame them on her exhaustion and on the

strange ease she found in this early morning conversation.

“Madeline?”

Of course, Madeline. The woman who was so beautiful men lined up to spill their secrets in her bed. The woman so incredible she

had managed to gain Clayton’s trust despite how badly Olivia had broken him. The woman he was doing all of this to protect.

“Is that La Petit’s name?” She knew as soon as she asked that it was too much. Clayton would freeze up. Accuse her of trying to

steal information.

Instead, although he frowned slightly, he nodded.

Air rushed into her lungs. Cleansing. Free.

Strangely, Olivia wasn’t jealous as she awaited his answer, at least not much. She was more . . . curious. Hopeful. She still didn’t

fool herself that she had any future with Clayton. There was too much heartache in the past and more still to come between them.

But if he had loved—or still loved, she thought with a jolt—this Madeline, then she could prove to him that he might not be as empty

as he believed.

If she could help him realize that, then maybe she’d be able to move on as well.

The thought drove all the other joy away. She wanted Clayton to be happy so she could be free of guilt?

Despite the thuds of her heart, she refused to give in to the panic. No. She wasn’t that girl anymore. That wasn’t why she wanted him

happy. She wanted him happy because he deserved to be.

She’d broken the hold her past had on her, but there was still one more thing she had to do.

She spoke before she could change her mind. “I went to my father because I was afraid of what would happen to me if you were

right about your accusations. I wasn’t just foolish. I was spoiled and terrified of losing what I had. I never, never expected my father to

accuse you of his crimes. Even in my darkest imaginings, I never—never— thought past him denying your charges. But I was selfish.

I am selfish. I like to have my own way far too much. I think sometimes that I’ll never be able to escape it.” She sucked in a breath

and then exhaled it slowly.

After a moment of silence, she forced herself to look up so she could see the disgust on Clayton’s face. She deserved it.

His expression was neutral, but his eyes caught and held hers. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t do anything but look into their

depths and try not to reel under their intensity.

He reached out and stroked a finger across the crease on her forehead. His caress continued down the bridge of her nose to that

small divot above her lip.

“Madeline is like my sister.” He didn’t need to say that he loved the other woman. It was there in the gravity of his words. He lifted his

hand away and tucked it behind him.

A small weight lifted off her chest. “Did she truly do those things people claim?”

“She saved kings. Entire armies. Me.”

“You miss her.” Why did her heart ache?

But his small moment of candor was over. “You’ll want to try to sleep again. I suspect Golov will arrive in a few hours to offer his help.

”

“He thinks I’m working for him.” She thought it best to be honest. They had enough conflict still between them.

“What?”

She recounted the conversation from the night before. “I decided it was best if he thought I agreed.” It wouldn’t help either of them if

Golov knew how much Clayton meant to her.

Clayton scrubbed his fingers along the stubble on his chin. “Why only feign acceptance?”

Because she loved him. Instead, she asked, “Would he actually pay?”

“Would that change your answer?”

“No.”

“Not even if it meant saving the mill?” He held up a hand to silence her, then closed his eyes briefly. “Go to bed.”

Golov arrived before Clayton had finished breakfast, which was a shame because he’d saved his bacon for last and now he wouldn’

t enjoy it.

“I see I have interrupted your meal. My apologies.”

He’d no doubt planned it that way.

Clayton hadn’t had time to work out which of the servants reported to Golov directly yet, but he’d narrowed it down to one of two

footmen. And a blond upstairs maid, but she’d been so obvious in her attempts to spy that it hadn’t even posed a challenge.

Clayton lifted a piece of bacon, determined not to show how Golov’s papery, sallow face rendered all notion of eating unpalatable.

“Have you had any success with the code?”

“Baffled, I fear. You?” Clayton had a copy of the page delivered before the ball yesterday.

Golov inclined his head. But since he was here, Clayton had to assume he didn’t know how to break the code yet, either.

Clayton also needed to discover where Golov’s loyalty lay. The man must know something of the plot. He kept too close a watch on

the city and his family not to know his brother was a revolutionary. Was he committed to the revolution? Willing to let it happen?

Or did he actually want to stop it?

“I’m honored by your personal attention to this matter. I never knew codes were your specialty,” Clayton said.

“No, that is yours, I believe. And that of your friend.”

Clayton took a sip of tea so the sudden dryness in his throat would betray nothing. Even Golov with his nearly unlimited resources

shouldn’t have had time to find out those types of details about Olivia yet.

“She did destroy the weapons cache.”

No. She’d been safely sleeping. But Clayton wouldn’t correct him.

“I suppose you could have broken that code, but I was under the impression you were assigned elsewhere when she retrieved those

documents from Vasin.”

Madeline. Golov was speaking of Madeline, not Olivia. Relief swept through him, but was quickly quashed. Golov knew far more

about the Trio’s actions than he should. And he was flaunting it. How did he know Clayton had been assigned to Moscow while

Madeline and Ian had worked on Vasin?

Clayton examined his tea. Madeline had stolen a packet of papers from Vasin, but they’d never translated them. They’d turned them

directly over to the Foreign Office as per their orders.

But in Vasin’s boastings as he’d tried to bed Madeline, he’d given away the location of a stockpile of weapons, which they’d

tracked down and destroyed.

It had been a rather marvelous explosion.

That location must have been one of the things revealed in those papers. That was why the revolutionaries thought Madeline could

break the code.

He couldn’t allow that misconception to linger. “I broke the code.”

“If you were the one to break the code, I must question why you’re unable to do so now?” Golov cracked the knuckles on his right