Page 6 of After the Spy Seduces

“So I saw. Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Grief clawed at her belly. “He looked at them and said they weren’t the right ones.”

He frowned. “What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know. But those arethe pages asked for in the note. I’m certain of it.”

“Pages from what?”

“Notmilitary documents.” She didn’t like his earlier accusation that she was giving away secrets. Her father had been a distinguished general in His Majesty’s army, for God’s sake! She wouldneverdo anything that would even remotely aid the French. So he might as well just forget any chance at gaining a reward from turning her in for it. “They’re from the general’s memoirs. Just scribblings that he’s been trying to put together into a book.”

Disbelief darkened his face. “Why would the French want those?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care.” Her eyes burned with self-recrimination at how she’d failed to exchange the papers. “All that matters is saving Garrett’s life.”

No sympathy showed in Carlisle at that. If anything, his jaw clenched even tighter at the mention of the danger her brother was in. “You think that the Frenchman who sent that note and met with you tonight is going to kill your brother because he didn’t take those pages?”

“Yes.” The word emerged as a desolate rasp, and a single tear slipped free.

“Then you can stop the tears.” With a fleeting expression of sympathy, he brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. “Because most likely your brother hasn’t even been kidnapped.”

Not kidnapped? She searched his face, desperate for answers. Clearly, he believed that, but his words brought no spark of hope. “They have him, I know it.”

“Because you received a note?”

“Because he’smissing. He left two weeks ago to visit friends in the North, but when I received the note, I didn’t know what to believe, if it were true or simply some childish joke that his chums were playing on us. So I hired a messenger and attempted to reach him. But his friends replied that Garrett wasn’t with them, that he had never arrived.” She gave voice to her deepest fears. “I think he was captured just after he left home.”

He paused for a moment, chewing that over. Then he mumbled, half to himself, “Why don’t I trust you?”

“Why would I lie?” she shot back.

“Because people are seldom as they appear and rarely tell the truth.” To make his point, he replaced the fake moustache on her upper lip and tapped it into place with his fingertip. But there was nothing at all teasing about the black expression on his face. “Even beautiful ladies.”

Her belly fluttered at what was little more than an empty compliment, and one given in chastisement at that. What a goose she was!Thiswas why she avoided men like Christopher Carlisle. Far too easy to be caught up in their web of charms, even when lying on her bruised bottom in an inn yard in what she hoped was nothing more than mud.

A loud shattering came from the tavern. He glanced across the yard toward the fight. His face hardened, and he let out a soft curse.

“What is it?” She twisted around to follow his gaze, just in time to see two very large men stumble outside. They paused to search the night, as if looking for someone to blame for the fight.

“We have to get out of here.Now.” He dropped his gaze back to her face—no, to her mouth—and she could have sworn regret flitted across his features at being interrupted.

But before she could be certain, he released her wrists and rolled away. He took her arm and pulled her to her feet, then quickly led her across the yard toward the horses. She struggled to keep up with his long strides. Worse—she winced at the sharp aches that portended nasty bruises in all kinds of unmentionable places from the way he’d tackled her to the ground.

When they reached a large gray gelding who stood calmly amid the commotion, he released her arm to untie it and swung up onto its back. The horse instantly came alert, his eyes clear and bright, his nostrils flaring.

He leaned down in the saddle and held out his hand to her.

She hesitated.

Of all the men to come rushing to her defense tonight, like a parody of a well-intentioned knight in shining armor—of course, it had to behim. Christopher Carlisle. One of the men formerly under her father’s command, who now belonged to the same clubs and attended the same sporting events as her brother. A noted rake and scoundrel who seemed determined to bed every woman in society, just for the sport of it.

And now the only ally she had.

Surely, fate was laughing at her.

“There!” An excited shout went up from the two men. “That’s them!”

With a curse, Carlisle grabbed her arm and swung her onto the horse behind him.