Page 93 of The Bachelor Spy
“My lady?” He dipped his head. “How is the patient this evening?”
Grace paused in front of him, crossing her arms. “He’s actually quite determined to have a long conversation with you and Miss Gale. As am I, Mr. Blake.”
“Of course.” Blake offered an exaggerated shudder. “You’ve already divulged your findings?”
“Only because he thought the reason you wanted to meet with me was for something much less honorable than”—she glanced down the hall and lowered her voice—”what it truly is.”
Both of Blake’s brows took flight. “Say what?”
“And,” Grace continued, her own frustration rising to the defense of the fact she should have told Frederick the truth from the beginning, “I’m afraid he may have been in much greater distress because of having his mental faculties wounded by the possibility of our … clandestine encounters rather than the fact of”—she waved toward him, desperately trying not to reveal too much aloud—”what is really going on.”
“Well, that does change things considerably, doesn’t it?” He frowned and pushed a hand through his hair. “Where would he ever get such a preposterous idea?”
“From your little comment about needing to speak with me about ‘last night.’” Grace sighed, allowing her ire to dissipate under the very real dangers of the situation. “I feel as though, dear Mr. Blake, I may bring out the very worst in your professional skills. I can only imagine the stress of managing my curiosity, plus the thief, then”—she touched her stomach—”my condition, as well as your … usual occupation. You may be slightly discombobulated.”
He nodded slowly as a strange sort of humor lit his eyes. Almost mischievous.
Where had he just come from?
“Perhaps I am.” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at her in playful teasing. “But only slightly.” Then he straightened. “We should clear this up straightaway. Would you like me to fetch Miss Gale?”
Grace shook her head. “I’ve already had Ellie collect her, so she should be on her way to our sitting room as we speak.”
“Ah.” Blake’s expression shifted, the playfulness fading into something more serious. “Then I suppose there’s no delaying the inevitable.”
“None whatsoever.” Grace linked her arm through his, steering him back up the corridor. “And he’s only a little angry at you for making such a horrid comment within his hearing that would lead him to such conclusions. However, I’m certain he’ll be so caught up in the truth of what’s really happening that he’ll quickly forgive you.”
“I’m glad to hear you are confident in his magnanimity, my lady.” Blake patted her hand where it rested on his arm. “Though I should warn you—there are some things I simply cannot tell either of you. For your own safety.”
She frowned up at him.Of course! I’m not a fool!“I understand operational security. I’ve read enough spy novels to grasp the concept.”
“Have you now?”
“Oh yes. I particularly enjoyedThe Riddle of the Sands.Very educational regarding German naval preparations.”
Blake chuckled. “Of course you’ve read Childers.”
“And many other similar novels.” She paused in front of the sitting room door. “It’s a shame how much people underestimate the real knowledge one can learn from fiction.”
Blake’s grin split wide as he reached for the room door. “Remind me never to underestimate you, Lady Astley.”
“Well, considering the closet situation last night, I certainly hope you won’t!”
Blake chuckled and pushed the door open for her to enter.
Frederick stood by the fire, his bandaged face turned toward the door as if he’d been listening for their approach.
“I hear a conversation is in order,” Blake said as he walked forward.
Frederick’s mouth quirked. “Indeed.”
Evie stepped through the doorway behind them, soundless.
“Close the door, won’t you please, Miss Gale?” Grace asked, and Evie complied.
“A moment.” Blake took a turn around one side of the room while Evie circled the other. “Just ensuring we’re fully alone.”
“So this entire preposterous story is real?” Frederick shook his head.
