Page 85 of The Bachelor Spy
And perhaps, by then, this entire business would be resolved. One could only hope.
“If you think it wise, Blake.” She sighed, rubbing a hand across her forehead. “But I’m horribly bad at not being honest.”
His grin spread. What a wonderful problem in a world of deceivers.
“Then try as much as you can, but don’t lie.” He shook his head, smiling down at her. “I would never wish that burden upon you, Lady Astley. Simply … exercise discretion.”
“I’d rather you tell Frederick anyway, so perhaps I can make it until you feel ready to divulge the entire truth.” She tilted her head and looked up at him. “I do wonder how you will explain it to him.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I’ll simply tell him the truth: that I spent last night locked in a closet with a woman who once shot me, and we’re now desperately in love and hunting German spies together. That should clear everything right up.”
“You’re desperately in love?” Grace’s entire face lit with her smile, and Blake suddenly realized what information he’d unintentionally shared … and that she’d not even noted the spy part first.
What was wrong with him and his skills? Or lack thereof.
“I wondered. It seemed if you’d really wanted to kill each other, you both were quite capable of it.”
He chuckled. “Or at least quite capable oftrying.”
“I like her all the better now.” Grace nodded. “You wouldn’t fall in love with just anybody, so she must be incredibly special. I look forward to getting to know her better when …” She waved toward the hall. “You know, when all this is … resolved.” Her brow furrowed. “Am I allowed to meet her … as her?” Grace’s eyes shot wide. “Can you even have a real wedding in public in front of people?”
He chuckled, a sudden warmth gathering in his face. “My goal is to survive until next week first, and then perhaps we can contemplate matrimony, my dear Lady Astley.”
“Oh yes. That’s probably a good idea.” She nodded and stepped closer. “And about visiting Lady Moriah?” She lowered her voice, glancing around them as if he hadn’t already been keeping watch. “I cannot leave Frederick today, but I shall make every effort to go tomorrow morning. I’m certain Lady Moriah will be delighted with the news of Frederick’s return.”
“Excellent thinking.” He nodded and stepped back. “Now, fetch the doctor and then lavish more affection on your poor husband, who’s been bereft of you for far too long. I’ve no doubt your sunshine will set him to rights in no time.” He winked. “May even improve his sight.”
He sighed out some of the tension in his chest. Gratefully, Grace was being considerably reasonable. Praise be.
“But, Blake.” She turned and leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I wouldn’t dream of spoiling your cover. But I do expect a full explanation eventually.”
Frederick felt some relief in Dr. Ross’ assessment.
After asking questions about Frederick’s pain levels and clarity of mind, checking his pulse, listening to his lungs, and examining his eyes, the good doctor had confirmed the lung inflammation seemed to have resolved—praise God—and the news regarding his eyesight was hopeful.
“Though outcomes with chlorine gas exposure vary quite significantly, the fact that you can distinguish light and shadow, that you can perceive shapes even through the bandages—those are encouraging signs,” Dr. Ross had said. “I’m cautiously optimistic.”
“Well, that’s excellent news, isn’t it, Frederick?” Grace squeezed his hand. “You’ll fare much better than Jane Eyre’s Edward Rochester.”
Dr. Ross released a puff of a laugh.
“Promising indeed,” Frederick had replied, attempting to ignore the uneasiness that had lodged in his chest the moment he’d overheard Blake’s earlier words to Grace about “last night.”
What had he meant, and why such secrecy? Frederick could think of only one reason for such clandestine whispers between his wife and his cousin, and it didn’t calm his pulse in the slightest.
Dr. Ross continued, blissfully unaware of Frederick’s inner turmoil. “I believe there’s a good chance Lord Astley will regain most of his vision. There may be some permanent effects—he might require spectacles for close work, or experience difficulty in bright light—but I don’t believe he’ll be blind. Not completely.”
“Oh Frederick.” Grace squeezed his hand. “You’ll look positively dashing in spectacles.”
Frederick forced himself to breathe steadily. Surely whatever Blake was referencing couldn’t be the worst possibility. Yes, he’d been absent for months. Yes, Grace had been under tremendous strain managing the hospital alone. And now, discovering she was with child without him here to support her …
But his wife—his adoring, honest, thoroughly incapable-of-deception wife—would never …
His fingers rolled into fists at his side. Old patterns of thinking crawled into place, tempting him to layer past betrayals over his present love. But he fought them.
Fought them all day long, as Zahra would not leave his side, sweet girl.
So Frederick waited. Appreciated all the comforts of being home and the affection of Grace and Zahra as they all moved upstairs to the sitting room situated between Frederick’s and Grace’s respective bedrooms. Zahra brought Shams for him to meet, and the cat behaved herself for nearly a half hour before she jumped atop one of the desks and knocked over a stack of books. Zahra read a story to Frederick after Grace shared some of the most mundane topics imaginable—the weather, Mrs. Lennox’s seed cake, the new patterns emerging in ladies’ fashion due to fabric rationing.
