A Secret in Her Kiss (15 page)

Chapter Seventeen

“W
e could get closer if we have the coach drop us here.” Mari pointed to a spot on the map with one hand and tugged at the loose neckline of her native robe with the other.

Bennett kept his eyes trained on the maps of Vourth spread out on the ambassador’s desk, not on the delectable bit of skin she’d revealed. He’d tolerate no reminders of last night’s loss of control. Or of the anguish he’d inflicted this morning. None of that would help him get her out of this alive. “Yes, but we’d have to travel through two additional villages. I don’t want more witnesses than necessary.”

Her eyes narrowed as she considered. “How long on foot?”

“A day and a half if we don’t encounter any trouble.”

“And we carry all our supplies?”

He nodded, admiration warring with exasperation. She’d questioned him on every detail. She was quick to grasp his reasoning as well and he didn’t need to go into tedious repetition. The war would have been over in half the time if its generals had a tenth of her intensity. But a small part of him feared that she posed these questions because she didn’t think he cared if she survived. “We travel light.”

She tapped on the map. “Where are the bandits located?”

“Abington has knowledge of attacks in these three areas.” He knew his intended path skirted the edges of all three, but it was the best course. As he indicated the zones, his hand brushed hers. He quickly pulled back, not needing the reminder of how her skin felt against his.

“How recent?”

“There was an attack three weeks ago on a supply train headed to the fort.” All the men had been killed but one.

Mari’s silent contemplation allowed guilt to ring a bit too clearly in his ears. She had agreed to this assignment knowing the danger.

Yes, and his sister had chosen to go back to her husband while knowing him to be a violent bastard.

Both things he should have been strong enough to prevent.

“If we do run into trouble?” Mari traced the border of a mountain range with her finger. A crease appeared on her forehead and her teeth bit her lower lip.

It was good that she was frightened. It would keep her alive.

Yet his fists clenched so hard at his sides that his knuckles ached.

He had his orders. He couldn’t pick and choose which he wanted to follow. If orders were always pleasant, they wouldn’t have to be orders.

Mari’s hand trembled as she lifted it from the map.

“Don’t do this drawing.” His words surprised him as much as they seemed to surprise her.

“What about your orders?”

What happened to cursing his orders every chance she had? “I’ll obtain the information myself. It will be easier. As long as the War Office receives their information, they wouldn’t quibble overly on its source.” Except Caruthers. The man was bastard enough to make issue of it.

“How well do you draw?” she asked.

He couldn’t think of a lie quick enough.

“So you cannot.”

“I can give them a rough idea of size and armament.”

“What will they do when they find out I didn’t draw?” Mari asked.

“I’ll deal with the repercussions.”

“Can you guarantee they’ll leave Nathan here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Mari stared at the map, her fingers tapping in a fluttering rhythm on the desk. The crease on her forehead deepened, and she looked up. She watched him intently, then paced to the window. “Then I still must draw.”

“I have said you no longer need to.”

The smooth planes of her back betrayed nothing of her thoughts. “When do we leave?”

“Why are you doing this? You have no loyalty to the English.” The words emerged more harshly than he’d intended and he cursed himself for the slight catch in her breath.

But the words were true. And it was not his way to tiptoe around the incident.

“The Greek cause needs Nathan.”

That couldn’t be the only reason. “Why else?”

Her voice was perfectly composed. “There is nothing more.”

Now he had even less idea what to make of her. Didn’t she realize what she’d just refused? She’d been intent on quitting. It made no sense. He wanted to spin her away from the window and make her explain.

No, not quite. He wanted her to feel safe enough with him that she’d tell him on her own. But they’d both burned those bridges too thoroughly for them ever to be repaired. The thought landed like a cannonball in his gut. “There must be more.”

“It is difficult when you know there’s more but the person won’t explain, isn’t it?”

If that’s what she demanded as payment for her information, she’d be disappointed. He couldn’t tell her now anymore than he could this morning. “We leave the day after tomorrow.”

Mari’s forehead rested briefly against the glass. “I’m engaged to apply henna at the celebration for Fatima’s niece that night.”

“Then the following day.”

“Fine. I’ll have Achilla—”

“No. No one in your household can know when we’re to depart.” Someone had betrayed their last journey, and his money was still on one of her servants. It was why he insisted they do their planning here rather than at Mari’s house.

Her shoulders tightened and she turned to face him again. “I trust my people.”

“I don’t.”

She glared at him. “Then you can’t inform anyone, either.”

He braced his hands on the desk. “We’re in different positions. I need to gather the supplies.”

She shrugged. “They don’t need to know when or where you are going.”

A knock sounded on the door. Before he could respond, the ambassador strode in. “How goes the planning?”

“Well enough,” Bennett said.

Daller’s gaze swung back and forth between the two of them. “When do you leave?”

M
ari hoped Bennett felt every one of the daggers she glared into his back. If she was forbidden from revealing when they were to leave, he should be, too.

“Quite soon.”

Silently, Mari exhaled.

Daller frowned. “I did impress on you the extreme requirement for speed.”

Bennett stepped in front of the map they had been studying. “You did. It will be a rather complicated undertaking. I believe a week or two is a reasonable amount of time unless there is further information.”

The ambassador straightened the cuff of his jacket. “A week should be fine. Are you recovering from your indisposition, Miss Sinclair?”

His question baffled her. Luckily, Bennett stepped in smoothly. “A simple headache last night as I said. Although it came on quite suddenly, she had recovered by this morning.”

Confound it. Her impromptu flight from the ball last night. Did Daller suspect the real reason she left? His expression didn’t seem to hold more than polite disinterest, and he never hid his emotions that well.

Daller nodded absently as he took a pinch of snuff. She doubted he even listened to the report on her health. “Excellent. I’ll leave you two alone then. Keep me informed of your plans.”

She answered before Bennett would have to lie. “You’ll be the first person we tell.”

The ambassador smiled in what he undoubtedly thought was a conspiratorial manner. “I’m glad to hear that.”

A footman appeared at the door. “My lord, a messenger has arrived for you.”

Mari sighed in relief as the ambassador left.

“You don’t like him much, do you?” Bennett said.

“With obvious reason. He threatened me.”

“He claims it wasn’t intended as a threat.”

She raised her eyebrow. “I find myself disinclined to believe that. Threats seem to run in your family.”

His jaw tightened. “I offered to release you.”

He had. And the offer had shaken her more than she would ever admit. What did it mean? Did he care about her enough not to want to put her in danger or did he simply think it would be easier without her?

And why hadn’t she accepted?

But either way, she couldn’t compare him to his cousin. She stared at the long shafts of afternoon sun slanting across the papered walls. “I don’t think you’re like your cousin. I disliked him long before he threatened me, and the feeling was quite mutual.”

Bennett frowned. “What about his claim to a broken heart at the soiree last night?”

Mari snorted. “It was the oddest thing. Three months ago he appeared to be courting me.”

“Daller?”

She couldn’t be insulted at his incredulity. It mirrored her own.

“I could only think that he’d run through every other woman in city. Yet he called on me twice and even sent flowers. I made it clear the interest wasn’t returned. Not that there was much feeling, that’s what seemed so odd about the whole—”

The dowry.

After everything last night, Esad’s plan to give her his fortune had slipped her mind. Her hands fisted in the silk of her skirt. Daller couldn’t know about the dowry, could he?

Last night, Talat had hinted at something when he questioned Bennett, and Talat and the ambassador had become strange allies in the past year.

She shifted in her hot clothes and tugged at the neckline of her robe. Bennett’s eyes fixed on her movement. Dropping her hand to her side couldn’t stop the way her nipples hardened. She’d done amazing, wicked things with him last night. And regardless of how her mind and heart felt about him, her body longed for more. She spoke before the intensity in his gaze reduced her to a quivering puddle. “There’s something I must o—”

The ambassador burst through the door, his face crimson with rage. His gaze pinned her. “How did he find out?”

He advanced but Bennett stepped in front of her, blocking him. “Can we assist you?

The color on the ambassador’s face stained a deeper red. “She knows exactly what I’m referring to. Where were you hiding? Behind the curtains? The desk?”

The ornate carving on the chair next to her dug into her hand as her grip tightened.

It shouldn’t have been possible for Bennett to look any larger and more imposing, yet he did. “What exactly are you accusing us of?”

“Not you, her.” For a moment, the ambassador met her eyes around Bennett. If not for her hold on the chair, she would have retreated a step at his loathing.

Bennett shifted, cutting Daller from her line of sight. “What is the problem?”

“Esad Pasha’s men moved on the brigands early this morning.”

She sucked in a breath while she awaited Bennett’s response. He’d said he wouldn’t tell the ambassador of her actions, but would he deny them if asked? Nausea rolled in her stomach.

“Were they successful?” Bennett asked.

Daller’s nostrils flared. “Yes, amazingly so.”

She swallowed. At least one good thing would come of this.

Bennett folded his arms. “What is the issue then?”

Daller prowled so he could see her. Mari lifted her chin. He wouldn’t find any weakness in her.

“The issue is how she came by the information. She’s a spy.” The contempt in Daller’s eyes slithered over her.

“For England,” Bennett reminded him.

The ambassador paused. The color ebbed back to normal in his face and he smoothed his mustache. “Indeed. Indeed. Forgive me.” Yet the outraged gleam in his eyes still burned. “But you must understand, I’m required to pursue any worrisome leads just as you are, Prestwood. Were you in that room last night, Miss Sinclair?”

She moved from behind Bennett. Now that her initial shock faded, she refused to let him shield her. “What room?”

Daller took another step toward her, then glanced at Bennett and retreated. “Last night in the study. The conversation I had with Prestwood and Talat. Where were you lurking?”

She didn’t have to feign resentment. “I wasn’t lurking anywhere. I wasn’t in the room for any conversation you might have had.”

Daller’s mustache twitched like a rat seeking food. “You disappeared from the soiree right after I spoke with Talat. And this morning your pasha acted on classified intelligence I revealed during that conversation.”

“Who supplied the information?” Bennett asked.

Daller blinked at the interruption. “Pardon?”

“Who supplied you with the intelligence on the brigands?”

A frown formed on Daller’s face. “A native informant.”

“Then the information wasn’t secret. The pasha could have come by the information any number of ways.”

“True, but—”

“She wasn’t in the room, Daller.”

The man deflated at Bennett’s proclamation. “Well, good, good.” His smooth smile slid back into place. “We wouldn’t want to lose one of our best agents.”

“So I’m an agent now?” Mari asked.

The ambassador chuckled. “You must forgive me. My concern for England is a passion that is hard to contain.”

More like his concern for political advancement.

Bennett spoke before she could respond. “We still have much planning to do. If we’ve addressed all your concerns, Daller?”

“Yes. I beg your pardon for interrupting.” Yet the carefully banked suspicion still smoldered in the ambassador’s eyes.

Bennett was silent after Daller left. Mari tried to focus on the map next to her but a strange warm haze clouded her thoughts.

He hadn’t betrayed her.

She didn’t know whether to kiss him or slap him for his interference. She could take care of herself, but for once, it was nice not to have to.

Mari grimaced, curtailing the pleasant thought. There was no point in getting used to it. She wouldn’t trust him without an explanation of his actions last night, and he’d refused to give her one. She couldn’t let herself forget that.

Still, she was grateful. “Thank you.”

His face could’ve been carved from stone. His attention dropped back to the map. He hadn’t betrayed her to his cousin but neither had he forgiven her.

It was good she was no longer trusting him.

Especially not with her heart.

Chapter Eighteen

M
ari swore silently under her breath. She rubbed the henna paste covering her upper arm. As she feared, the plant had dyed her skin an unlucky dark brown, rather than the orange that would bring luck and prosperity to Ceyda’s marriage.

She peered at the door that led to the rest of the house. It was nearly impossible to practice her henna designs knowing Bennett rested on the other side. Although it would have been ten times worse to practice with him on this side of the door, staring at her with cold eyes.

Not that her bare skin should bother him. He’d seen practically all of it two days ago. Caressed it, too.

She closed her eyes at the remembered sensations. How wanton did it make her if, even after all they’d gone through, she wanted him to make her feel that way again?

She growled and mashed the paste through a sieve. Unfortunately, no two batches of the dye ever turned out the same. She stirred the thick, honey-colored substance. She had to practice on her skin to get the timing of the henna just right for tonight’s bridal party.

The bride was supposed to be the first one decorated. So she had to leave her own her hands clear and use her upper arms as a canvas. But now, intricate dark brown stains covered most of the usable space.

On to her next option.

Mari lifted the hem of her robe and rolled up the leg of her trousers. The paste was cool and sticky on her calf as she applied a simple pattern of vines and flowers. She’d better get this right or before long, she’d be working in the nude.

Perhaps she’d invite Bennett in for that.

Male voices rumbled outside the room. Mari set the rolled paper tube of henna beside her. Who was out there? Her father was visiting a new acquaintance he’d met at the soiree.

The door opened, and Nathan strolled in dressed in the prosperous clothing of a shopkeeper. “Some people have guard dogs. Are you trying to inspire a new trend of guard suitors?” He looked pointedly at her bare leg. Mari scrambled to her feet and pulled down the hem of her trousers as Bennett entered.

“Did you discover anything?” Bennett asked, closing the door behind him.

Abington’s amusement faded. “Your thief wasn’t there.”

“What?” Mari asked.

Bennett eyed her collection of henna-making supplies. “I asked him to gather more information on our thief from the other night.”

Mari crossed her arms in front of her chest. “And when did you think you’d inform me of this?” The man had a head like the Rock of Gibraltar. Did it simply not occur to him that if her life was the one in danger, perhaps he should inform her of new developments?

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “A lovers’ spat already?”

Bennett glared at both of them. “What do you mean he wasn’t there? Had he been executed?”

Images of the poor slain Greek patriot resurfaced in her mind. Mari shuddered.

Nathan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “There was no record of him ever being there. Not that a place like that keeps records per se. But he was known in those parts, and no one recalled seeing him. He never made it to the jail.”

“Did he escape then?” Mari asked.

Bennett’s gaze was locked on where Nathan’s hand rested on her. She moved a step closer to him just to irk Bennett.

Nathan’s lips twitched in recognition of her tactic. “No, there was no record of that, either. The local magistrate assured me he delivered the thief to the jail.”

“So what happened to him?”

Nathan and Bennett shared a look that made her swallow.

“You think someone killed him?”

Nathan shrugged noncommittally. “I suppose he could’ve escaped from the jail.”

“But you don’t think so,” she confirmed.

Bennett shook his head. “Dead men can’t talk.”

Mari sat heavily on the couch.

Nathan sat next to her. “It’s not your fault. He’s the one who decided to break into your room.”

“Yes, but the man wouldn’t have tried to rob me if I hadn’t had something worth robbing.”

Bennett remained unmoved by her distress. “He was a criminal destined for the gallows.”

Nathan’s lips thinned. “Is that how you normally comfort a woman? Bludgeon them with a blunt object, Prestwood?”

“Did anyone have leads on who hired him?” Bennett asked.

“One of the thief’s trustworthy acquaintances reported seeing him speaking to a man with a white turban and brown laborer’s clothes.”

She forgot her guilt for a moment. “Did he have anything distinctive about him?”

“His left hand was withered.”

She sprang to her feet, her hands reaching excitedly for Bennett. “The man who followed me from before!”

“Most likely.” His voice implied that the conclusion was obvious.

She dropped her hands to her sides. “So we were followed.” Her servants hadn’t betrayed her. Or perhaps she was too hasty in her relief. A new thought occurred to her and her spirits sank. “Or perhaps the same person who hired him to follow me knew where we were going and employed him for this job as well.”

“Anything on that, by the way?” Nathan asked.

Mari shook her head. “Not that we agree on.”

Nathan leaned back against the cushions. “I expected you to have solved that by now, Prestwood.”

She might be annoyed with Bennett at the moment, but Mari couldn’t let him bear the fault for that. “He’s been protecting me.”

“Surely, he’s not doing so every hour of the day.”

Silence echoed in the room.

Nathan cleared his throat. “How long has this been going on?”

Mari rearranged the henna supplies sitting on the table next to her. “Two days.”

“Ah, that explains why you’re at each other’s throats. Well then, once again I’ll come to the rescue. Take yourself off, Prestwood. I shall defend this fair maiden for the next few hours. Use the time to seek your enemy rather than waiting for them to attack you.”

When Bennett hesitated, Nathan continued, “Or amuse yourself some other way. Hit things. Plan battles.” Nathan’s eyes grew serious. “I’ll protect her. How long until you strangle each other if you remain?”

Bennett’s face shuttered at Nathan’s choice of words. “She has a bridal party she must attend to in a few hours.”

Nathan looked at her askance.

“Fatima’s niece has her Kina Gecesi tonight.”

“I’ll see Mari safely there and then home again. You can take over at that point. I must get my rest if I’m to remain this beautiful.”

Bennett’s eyes narrowed. “Be as obvious as possible when you leave this evening.”

His gaze was far too intent on her.

“What are you planning?” Mari asked.

“Appear as though you might be involved in something interesting.”

“You plan to try to capture the man following me, don’t you?” As angry as she still might be, she didn’t like him putting himself at risk for her sake.

“Yes.” Bennett turned to Nathan. “If I do capture him, Abington, I will likely need someone to translate. I’ll send a servant with word tonight if I am successful.”

Mari frowned. “I could translate.”

“No.” Both men answered at the same time.

She stiffened, but Nathan put his hand on her shoulder. “We will tell you what he says, but you may not want to be in that room.”

Unease prickled over her skin. “I am involved in this too, you recall.” Her gaze pleaded with Bennett as she spoke.

Bennett cast her a dismissive glance. “Yes, but your role is limited to bait.” He strode from the room.

“You can’t truly burn holes in his back,” Nathan said.

Mari turned her glare from the door Bennett had just exited. “Pity.” Had she truly worried over his safety for a moment?

“Doesn’t burn holes in me, either, I’m afraid.”

Mari turned her glare to the floor.

“What happened between the two of you? From what I heard from the rumors after the soiree, I was practically picking out wedding presents.”

Mari explained what had transpired at the ambassador’s and everything that happened afterward.

Almost everything, as she left out the interlude in the bath.

Nathan whistled low. “And he didn’t have you flogged?”

A fresh wave of misery overwhelmed her annoyance. She blinked rapidly and retrieved a cup of turnip juice for each of them.

She sipped it absently. Of the entire week she’d known Bennett, they’d only been anything close to friends for two days. It was foolish to mourn the loss of an anomaly.

Nathan swore in Arabic and Turkish. “Did you sleep with him yet?”

Mari choked. “What? No!”

“But something happened?”

A blush seared Mari to the roots of her hair. “Nothing that— We didn’t—”

“Shall I shoot him?”

“No.”

“Beat him just a trifle senseless?”

The idea held some appeal. But she grimaced. “No. Everything we did was my idea.”

“Then this misery is because he’s angry with you?”

She placed her cup on the table. That wasn’t quite it. His anger stung, but she understood his reaction. She’d anticipated it.

“Did he fail to live up to your impossible expectations?”

“I don’t have high expectations of people.” At least no more than anyone else.

Nathan took a sip from his cup, grimaced, and returned it to the table as well. “I know. Your expectations are exceedingly low. You never trust anyone. You pretend you do, but in truth you’re only giving them time to fail you. Then you grasp hold of any flaw as proof that you were right not to trust them.”

“Trust is fragile.” She reeled under the unexpected attack. She paced to ease her agitation.

“Yes, but it isn’t a Ming vase. The slightest nudge shouldn’t send it shattering on the floor, and leave it fit only for the rubbish bin.” He winced. “Bad metaphors aside, Prestwood has always been something of a dull stick, but he’s a good man.”

She frowned at his description of Bennett. “So, I’m supposed to give people infinite chances? Let them take advantage of me and then smile and ask them to do it again and again?” Oh heavens. Why hadn’t she chosen her words with more care?

Nathan, for once, chose to overlook the more ribald implication of her words. “You said yourself that you thought he had a reason behind his actions.”

“But what does that matter if he won’t tell me what they are?”

“That is the reason for trust, I believe.” Nathan pointed at her. “Bennett’s not your father.”

Mari exhaled through clenched teeth. “Why am I even discussing this with you? I— Confound it!” She sat and rolled up the leg of her trousers. She scrubbed the dry, flaking henna off her leg. Drat, muddy brown. “I’m not discussing Bennett with you.” She was right not to trust Bennett anymore.

Nathan shrugged, then stood and picked up his glass. “Do you have anything other than this vile liquid? I’m afraid I haven’t adapted to native life as entirely as you yet.”

She pointed to the table where the remains of her afternoon tea were laid out. “There’s tea, but it’s cold.” She picked up the tube of henna and put a small dot on her leg.

He helped himself to a cup. “Still preferable.” He added a spoonful of sugar and stirred. The spoon clicked against the side in soft rhythm. When he looked at her across the room, a serious expression weighed his features. “You don’t have to draw Vourth.”

“I know.”

He added another spoonful of sugar. “It won’t help the Greeks.”

“I know.”

“And it’s dangerous. Not just dangerous like what you’ve faced here. It’s a stronghold for thieves and murderers. The only way the sultan could have his fort built there was to first fortify the road in. Every shipment of supplies is given an escort of dozens of soldiers and they’ve still lost some. There is a reason the Russians haven’t tried to gain any influence in the area before. The place is a death trap.”

Mari lowered her face so he wouldn’t see the fear trembling in her gaze. Even with all the danger, she still had to go. “The British need an accurate sketch.”

“Since when did you care about the British? Prestwood can sketch it himself.”

“He can’t draw.” Unease slipped over her skin. “Besides what if he’s caught? He’ll have an undisguised drawing on him and they’ll kill him for certain.”

Nathan’s spoon clattered on the tray. “You aren’t doing this to help the Greeks. You’re going to protect Prestwood.”

“No. I agreed to draw the fort.”

Nathan flung two more scoops of sugar in his tea. “It may have escaped your attention, but he is a rather large man, capable of protecting himself.”

“But he doesn’t even speak Turkish, what if—”

Nathan’s crow of vindication interrupted her. “Are you sure you didn’t sleep with him?” He suddenly stabbed the sugar bowl with his spoon. “Hell, it’s worse. You love him.”

She opened her mouth to deny the accusation, but no words emerged.

She didn’t love him. He was leaving within a matter of days and he’d made his lack of feelings for her clear. Besides, while she knew firsthand love could exist without trust, it made life a hellish experience. She wouldn’t condemn herself to that. Not again. Not like with her father. “That would be foolish.”

He sipped his tea, then spat it out and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He put the lid back on the sugar and poured himself a fresh cup. “This from the woman who insists on following a trained, battle-hardened soldier into certain death to watch over him.”