Cora.”
“Do you believe I betrayed the other agents?” The question emerged before she could pull it back.
“No, I do not.”
The sincerity of his words helped soothe the hurt she had difficulty controlling. Her lips lifted into a tight smile. “Well, that’s one out of three.”
“Cora, your brother—”
“Why did you remain silent?” she asked in a rush. “Why did you allow Somerton to believe I might have divulged the Nexus’s secrets?”
“I knew you hadn’t. We all knew, Cora, but the question had to be asked.”
“Why? Why did the question have to be asked? Why couldn’t you have trusted me?”
His jaw hardened, and his eyes closed as if in pain. When he opened them a few seconds later, they burned with a helpless intensity. “Too many lives were at stake, Cora. Somerton couldn’t take the chance that you had under torture divulged information. But he should have asked you privately.”
Her anger dissipated from one breath to the next, but the hurt remained. No matter Somerton’s logic, she wished he’d had more faith in her. But she did not walk in his shoes and could not fathom the level of responsibility he carried for his agents. She had been the recipient of his protection many times and was glad for it. So who was she to question his tactics now?
“Of course,” she said, rubbing her temple. She could actually feel her body folding in on itself. “Your other reason for being here?”
“To invite you down for something to eat, but I see your strength is waning. Will you not at least accept my arm to cross over to your bed?”
Cora’s hand dropped to her side. She wanted to give in to his strength, allow him to take her burden. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not after nearly bashing his head. All she needed was to be alone, to sort things out. To feel warm again.
She took a small step to the left, following the shifting patch of sunlight, away from Guy. “I-I can manage.”
“Would you prefer I send Dinks up?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. Privacy is all I require at the moment.”
“Very well, Cora. I’ll see you soon.”
She steeled herself when he hesitated at the door. Go , she silently pleaded. Remaining upright took every morsel of strength she possessed. Her nerve endings prickled beneath her skin, causing her muscles to tense.
“Cora.”
“Yes?”
“You’re safe. I will see to it that Valère pays for what he has done.”
“No.” The word ripped from her throat. The thought of Guy facing a man like Valère, especially on her behalf, sent a surge of raw fear through her exhausted body. “You are not to get involved.”
His gaze remained steady, resolute. “Too late.”
“I mean it, Guy. The man’s a cold-blooded killer.”
He stared at her for a heart-pounding moment before saying, “We are evenly matched, then.”
Cora stilled. “What do you mean?”
His features shuttered, as if he had realized he’d said too much. Instead of explaining his statement, he asked, “Are you sure I can’t help you?”
Disappointment sharpened her tone. “Quite.”
“Rest well, Cora.”
When the door closed, she crumpled against the wall, sliding down its cold, hard surface. The welts on her feet, inflicted by Boucher’s branding iron, throbbed with fire.
She closed her eyes. The acrid aroma of burning flesh still stained her nostrils, and her throat felt as though it were lined with shards of glass.
As fatigue overtook her body and clouds rolled across the sun, taking its warmth and light, Cora prayed for a new day to arrive, one that included dainty pastries, flaring candlelight, and Guy’s strong arms wrapped around her.
She tilted her head back, reassured by the wall’s solid surface, unsurprised when her prayer remained unanswered.
***
Guy was going to be sick.
A few feet from Cora’s bedchamber, he braced his hands on the windowsill, his blunt fingernails cutting into the wood. The image of her fleeing his arms and taking up a
“Do you believe I betrayed the other agents?” The question emerged before she could pull it back.
“No, I do not.”
The sincerity of his words helped soothe the hurt she had difficulty controlling. Her lips lifted into a tight smile. “Well, that’s one out of three.”
“Cora, your brother—”
“Why did you remain silent?” she asked in a rush. “Why did you allow Somerton to believe I might have divulged the Nexus’s secrets?”
“I knew you hadn’t. We all knew, Cora, but the question had to be asked.”
“Why? Why did the question have to be asked? Why couldn’t you have trusted me?”
His jaw hardened, and his eyes closed as if in pain. When he opened them a few seconds later, they burned with a helpless intensity. “Too many lives were at stake, Cora. Somerton couldn’t take the chance that you had under torture divulged information. But he should have asked you privately.”
Her anger dissipated from one breath to the next, but the hurt remained. No matter Somerton’s logic, she wished he’d had more faith in her. But she did not walk in his shoes and could not fathom the level of responsibility he carried for his agents. She had been the recipient of his protection many times and was glad for it. So who was she to question his tactics now?
“Of course,” she said, rubbing her temple. She could actually feel her body folding in on itself. “Your other reason for being here?”
“To invite you down for something to eat, but I see your strength is waning. Will you not at least accept my arm to cross over to your bed?”
Cora’s hand dropped to her side. She wanted to give in to his strength, allow him to take her burden. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not after nearly bashing his head. All she needed was to be alone, to sort things out. To feel warm again.
She took a small step to the left, following the shifting patch of sunlight, away from Guy. “I-I can manage.”
“Would you prefer I send Dinks up?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. Privacy is all I require at the moment.”
“Very well, Cora. I’ll see you soon.”
She steeled herself when he hesitated at the door. Go , she silently pleaded. Remaining upright took every morsel of strength she possessed. Her nerve endings prickled beneath her skin, causing her muscles to tense.
“Cora.”
“Yes?”
“You’re safe. I will see to it that Valère pays for what he has done.”
“No.” The word ripped from her throat. The thought of Guy facing a man like Valère, especially on her behalf, sent a surge of raw fear through her exhausted body. “You are not to get involved.”
His gaze remained steady, resolute. “Too late.”
“I mean it, Guy. The man’s a cold-blooded killer.”
He stared at her for a heart-pounding moment before saying, “We are evenly matched, then.”
Cora stilled. “What do you mean?”
His features shuttered, as if he had realized he’d said too much. Instead of explaining his statement, he asked, “Are you sure I can’t help you?”
Disappointment sharpened her tone. “Quite.”
“Rest well, Cora.”
When the door closed, she crumpled against the wall, sliding down its cold, hard surface. The welts on her feet, inflicted by Boucher’s branding iron, throbbed with fire.
She closed her eyes. The acrid aroma of burning flesh still stained her nostrils, and her throat felt as though it were lined with shards of glass.
As fatigue overtook her body and clouds rolled across the sun, taking its warmth and light, Cora prayed for a new day to arrive, one that included dainty pastries, flaring candlelight, and Guy’s strong arms wrapped around her.
She tilted her head back, reassured by the wall’s solid surface, unsurprised when her prayer remained unanswered.
***
Guy was going to be sick.
A few feet from Cora’s bedchamber, he braced his hands on the windowsill, his blunt fingernails cutting into the wood. The image of her fleeing his arms and taking up a
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