Page 64 of The Bachelor Spy
And froze.
Helen Gale stood at the end of the hallway, her back to them, perfectly still. But it wasn’t a casual stance. She was watching something—or someone—with a coiled alertness Grace had noticed before.
And at her feet, tail swishing with satisfaction, sat Shams.
The cat looked directly at Grace and gave a small, pleased meow.
Traitor.
Grace blinked. She’d meant the cat, of course. She certainly hoped the word didn’t apply to Helen Gale.
Helen spun at the sound, her hand moving instinctively toward—something at her waist? Her pocket? But the movement was so quick Grace couldn’t be certain. When Helen saw Grace and Zahra, her entire posture shifted into that of a proper housemaid, though not quite fast enough to hide her initial wariness.
“Lady Astley,” Helen said, her voice perfectly composed despite being startled. “I apologize. I didn’t realize anyone else was about.”
“We’re terribly sorry,” Grace said quickly, moving forward with Zahra. “Shams has escapedagainand led us on quite a chase.”
Helen’s gaze dropped to the cat, who was now weaving between her ankles, purring loudly. “She’s rather enterprising.”
“That’s a generous description,” Grace said, watching as Helen bent smoothly to scoop up the cat. The movement was so beautifully controlled, almost like a dance. And very much like she’d seen Blake move before.
Shams, who usually protested being held by anyone but Zahra, settled into Helen’s arms without complaint.
“Shams likes you, Miss Gale,” Zahra said, approaching with obvious curiosity. “She is not friendly to many people.”
“I’ve always been fond of animals.” Helen ran a hand over Shams’ head before depositing the cat into Zahra’s arms. “Though my work has rarely afforded me the chance to have one of my own.”
“Maybe you can have a place of your own someday. With a cat?” Zahra’s earnest hopefulness was so endearing Grace’s heart squeezed.
Helen’s composure slipped for just an instant—a strange mixture of something soft and … painful?—before she recovered. “Perhaps,” she said quietly. “Though I think I should prefer a cat with a less determined spirit than Shams has. Unless, of course, she was determined to catch mice.”
Zahra’s grin spread wide at Helen’s gentle teasing, and Helen’s expression softened into a gentle smile. Did the woman hide pain behind her composure? Fear?
People who were kind to animals and children had to be choosing good things, didn’t they? Her shoulders slumped, and she knew at heart it wasn’t always so. Yet Grace desperately hoped Helen was on the right side of whatever spy business she and Blake were entangled in.
“Zahra,” Grace said quietly, “why don’t you take Shams back upstairs? Make certain your door is properly latched this time.”
“Yes, Mama.” Zahra paused, studying Grace’s face. “You won’t be long?”
“Go on and prepare for bed, sweetheart. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Zahra nodded and disappeared back toward the stairs, Shams draped over her shoulder like a furry, disgruntled shawl.
Leaving Grace and Helen alone in the dim corridor.
“I couldn’t help but notice a certain longing when you spoke of having a home of your own,” Grace ventured, watching Helen’s face carefully for any revealing flicker of emotion.
Helen’s expression remained perfectly neutral. “I don’t believe it is an uncommon wish among servants, my lady.”
“No, of course not.” Grace smiled, hoping to soften Helen’s restraint. “And a lovely aspiration, I should think. I do hope you achieve it.”
Helen’s expression gentled ever so slightly, but that flash of pain returned to her eyes. “Perhaps. Someday.”
As they stood in the dim corridor, Grace worked through several things she could say, but all of them seemed to immediately claim Helen as a spy, possibly waiting to kill someone important, and maybe even in love with Blake.
She paused on the thought.
In love with Blake?
