She gave him an arch look. “When I see shadowy figures coming and going from your study at all hours of the night and day, it is not hard to guess.”
“And you assume my visitors have something to do with spying.”
“Yes. There is an urgency about them … a seriousness that would be lacking if they were simply interested in business matters. They don’t seem to be supplicants, either—hangers-on demanding favors of you—which you doubtless have in great abundance, given your illustrious title and wealth.”
“Why all the concern about my endeavors just now, sweeting?” Rayne responded evasively.
Madeline raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Why not? Should I not wonder what is occupying my new husband’s time? Is it unreasonable that I would be curious about your affairs now that we are wed, even if we do have a mere union of convenience?”
Perhaps it wasn’t unreasonable, Rayne decided, but her pointed interest made him uneasy. He wanted to fob her off, but Madeline persisted with her observations.
“I thought you had given up your career in intelligence, but it wouldn’t surprise me if you decided to continue in some fashion. You thrive on challenges. I can’t imagine you being content with the tame life of a nobleman.”
When Rayne didn’t reply to her prodding, she added with a provocative smile, “I suspect men of your profession do not simply fade into the woodwork, especially someone of your caliber.”
If she was attempting to flatter him for her own purposes, she would realize he was immune to such tactics.
“I haven’t decided yet what to do about my future,” he finally answered.
Which was true. After Napoleon’s first defeat in 1814, his friend Will Stokes had turned to catching thieves and criminals and had recently suggested Rayne join him as a Runner. Yet working for Bow Street as a thief-taker didn’t hold quite the same allure as pitting his wits and skills against deadly French agents.
Still, this latest enterprise had given Rayne a glimmer of an idea for what he might do with his life. Foiling civilian plots might cure his ennui and restlessness and fill the hole that losing a career in British foreign intelligence had left.
Madeline continued to study him as she sipped her tea. “When you do decide about your future, I should like to know.”
“Of course.”
She didn’t seem satisfied. “Pray, just answer me this. If you are involved in any dangerous enterprises, should I be worried for your safety?”
“No, there is no need for you to worry about me at all.”
His answer seemed to frustrate her, judging from the annoyance and disappointment that swept fleetingly across her features. But Rayne wasn’t about to discuss the threat to the Prince Regent’s life. Even setting aside the question of Madeline’s motives, he didn’t want her prying into his business. Interference from an amateur could jeopardize the best of plans. Besides, Madeline would almost certainly ask to help.
Rayne shook his head at the irony. If he had wanted a meek, biddable wife who wouldn’t meddle in his affairs, he should not have chosen her. Perhaps he’d made a mistake in settling on Madeline. She had a clever, keen mind. If she wanted to uncover his secrets, she was in the perfect position to do so, living in his house with him. The past few days, however, had left Rayne wondering if she had crossed the line from simple wifely curiosity into something more sinister.
Either way, he could sense something was wrong, off-kilter somehow. Madeline obviously wanted something from him; he just wasn’t sure what it was.
Perhaps he was simply looking for reasons to push her away, Rayne reflected, yet he knew from hard-earned experience to listen to his instincts, a wisdom honed over many years dealing with secrets and lies and betrayals.
And even if his instincts were off the mark this time, eavesdropping on his visitors was certainly not the way to persuade him to trust her, nor was asking him probing questions about his future in the intelligence business.
* * *
From her perspective, Madeline was not the least surprised that Rayne wished to keep part of his life secret from her, even though she was now his wife. Old habits died hard, notwithstanding the fact that she had her own secrets to hide from him.
She’d seen the way Rayne had looked her over, measuring her, when she merely questioned his future ambitions. His suspicious nature was perhaps one reason he was so determined to resist her advances.
She wasn’t prying into his affairs, though. Fanny had counseled her to show an avid interest in her husband, and it was no pretense. Naturally she was interested in every detail of Rayne’s life and his expectations for his future. And of course she would worry about his safety if he had returned to the spy business.
But chiefly Madeline wanted to know what was keeping him from paying attention to her just now, so she could adjust her campaign for his seduction.
She knew that winning Rayne wouldn’t happen overnight. Even so, she was annoyed and frustrated at the slow pace of her progress. How was it possible that she felt so much while he was left totally unaffected? Just being near Rayne tested the limits of her willpower. She yearned for him with a physical ache. More important, she wanted to be inside his heart.
Fanny had been so certain that her methods would break through the defenses even of a man like Rayne, yet Madeline worried that they didn’t seem to be working.
She was also beginning to grow more worried about her brother, since she’d heard nothing from Gerard and received no response to her two letters. She didn’t even know if he and his new bride had arrived safely in Maidstone, Kent, at the cottage belonging to Lynette’s Dubonet cousin Claude.
At least Freddie Lunsford’s dilemma was apparently solved. Madeline received a brief, scrawled note from Freddie, reporting that Madame Sauville was seething but that he was free of her blackmail and still in his father’s good graces.