I was eager to return to the letters in my study but felt that I owed her something in return for having come to my assistance. For the next week, I played the part of perfect society lady, flitting from the park to luncheon, to tea, back to the park, to garden party, to dinner, to the opera, to ball after ball after ball. It was exhausting, but not without its share of exhilaration. My heart quickened at the mere thought of dancing with Colin, and I relished every waltz I had with him.
On the last day of this whirlwind, I dined at Lady Elinor's, but rather than going on to a ball or party afterwards, I went home, choosing to walk because the night was a fine one. Colin escorted me, and I was reminded of a night in Paris when we had walked along the Seine, before his now dear face was so familiar to me. We cut through the park in the center of Berkeley Square and had just stepped into the street when a closed coach appeared, seemingly from nowhere, the horses running at a full gallop, careening towards us by the curb. Colin yanked me back, and I lost my balance, falling against the hard stone of the sidewalk. He bent over me to see if I was hurt.
"Go! See who it was!" I said, not wanting him to waste a moment. Of course there was no way he could catch up with the horses, but he did try admirably. I, meanwhile, pulled myself to my feet and was met by Davis, who did nothing to hide his horrified expression.
"Madam! You must sit down at once."
I have always secretly suspected Davis of having supernatural powers. The speed with which he situated me in the library, plied me with brandy, and ordered the footmen to secure the house was, without doubt, beyond that of an ordinary human. By the time Colin came in, my butler was tending to a rather nasty abrasion on my cheek. He stepped aside at once, passing the cloth he had been using to clean the cut to Colin, who knelt by my side, his face a mask of calm.
"The coach bore no markings," he said, neatly finishing the job Davis had started. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
"I don't think so."
He took a bandage from Davis's outstretched hand. "Hold this against your cheek until the bleeding stops. I'm sorry I pulled you so hard."
"I'd rather have a scrape than to have been trampled by those horses," I said, draining the brandy, not keen to admit how shaken I really was.
Davis left us so that he could oversee the footmen, and as soon as we were alone, Colin took me in his arms, pressing my unwounded cheek against his chest. I started to cry, and the tears stung. He was silent until my breathing had slowed, but the moment it did, he started to speak, his voice all calm seriousness.
"There must be something of great significance in those letters, Emily. It is imperative that you decipher them as soon as possible, and I'm more than willing to assist you. Have you made any strides towards figuring out who stole the two from your desk?"
"No," I admitted. My eyes filled with tears again.
"Do not think me cold, but you cannot succumb to emotion right now. You are in danger, and the only way out is to discover whom it is your actions are threatening." I opened my mouth to reply, but he stopped me. "And do not tell me it is Charles Berry. Not unless you have facts, Emily."
"He has threatened me, Colin."
"I know. You're one of his favorite topics of conversation, after Versailles, of course. What he wants from you is not in the least honorable, but it does require that you are..." He cleared his throat. "Suffice it to say that running you down with a coach would be most detrimental to his hopes."
"But I have rejected him."
"He's convinced that he'll be able to bend you to his will once he is king. He has an amazing capacity for self-delusion."
"And he tells you these things despite knowing of your attachment to me?"
"I make a point of not bringing my own emotions into play when I am working."
"So you let him believe that you are not in love with me?"
"I let him believe what he wants."
"I don't much like this," I said.
"Forgive me, but I'm not about to lay bare my own feelings to such a man."
"But everyone knows — " I stopped.
"What everyone in polite society accepts as a given truth often does not entirely correlate with the information circulating amongst gentlemen."
"That's dreadful."
"No more so than ladies taking no offense to being cut when they see a gentleman out with his mistress."
"Another reprehensible habit. If I saw Robert with his mistress, I would never stand aside and pretend that I didn't know him."
"Robert Brandon has a mistress?"
"Doesn't he?" I asked, all innocence.
"Don't try to fish for information, Emily." He poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Where are the letters?" I removed them from the safe, where I had kept them since the theft, and spread them out on my desk.
"I feel as if I'm missing something obvious when I look at them," I said.
"That, my dear, is code breaking. Do you want me to stay and help?"
"No, I'll be all right. I know I can do this."
"Then I'd like to speak to your servants, if you've no objection. Someone must know who came into the library when the letters were taken. They may be more willing to talk to me than to you or Davis."
I let him, of course, pleased that I was to have the more interesting task. Once he had left the room, I picked up the first pair of letters, beginning by looking for words that were repeated in both of them. Nothing. I wrote down the first letter of each word and was left with nonsense. Hardly surprising; that would be too obvious. The second pair of letters offered up nothing, either. The only thing that struck me as notable about any of them was that neither writer ever seemed to refer back to the previous letter he had received. This spurred me on, because one would not expect to find such a thing in an ordinary correspondence.
Colin returned more than an hour later. "You certainly do have devoted servants."
"Of course I do," I said, smiling.
"But a few raise my suspicions. You've an under gardener who's in rather a lot of debt, and a maid who's more sympathetic to Charles Berry than she ought to be."
"Molly!"
"You told me the circumstances under which you hired her, yet she still is in contact with the man."
"How is that possible?"
"It could be nothing more than coincidence, but she told me that she has run into him on more than one occasion since coming to your house."
"Do you think she is spying for him?"
"I don't know, but I would keep a close eye on her."
"And the under gardener?"
"He's a good sort, but inclined to gamble."
"How great are his debts?"
"Enough to tempt him to try to earn some extra."
"But he doesn't have the access to the house that Molly does."
"Quite right. There's another maid, Lizzie, who's new to the household. Have you had any trouble with her?"
"She's not the most efficient girl, but I wouldn't say that she's been a problem. Does she strike you as suspicious?"
"Not particularly, but I think it wise to look closely at anyone who has so recently joined your service." He stood behind my chair. "Any luck with the letters?"
"I'm getting there."
"I'm not surprised." I looked up at him. With his finger, he traced around the cut on my cheek. "I will not let him hurt you again, Emily, whoever he is."
How easy it would have been to throw myself against him at that moment, to beg him to decipher the code, find the thief, protect me from this danger. I resisted, however, and as I did, I realized that it was not so much to satisfy myself as to keep from being diminished in his opinion. He might offer protection, but I knew that he no more wanted a helpless mate than I wanted to be one.