A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(64)

Nicholas was anxious to see for himself, so anxious that he passed Cora on his way up the stairs, unwilling to wait for her.

Inside Miss Grey’s room, which was rather dim as her bed was shaded from the light of the fireplace, he called out softly, “It is Nicholas Langdon. May I come in?”

There was a hesitation and then a soft, “Yes.”

He stepped to her bedside, and Miss Grey smiled up at him, making his heart thump hard against his chest.

“I am so sorry to have been such a bother to you and Leorah . . .” she began. She stopped and took a heaving breath, as if it were both painful and difficult to breathe.

“Please, Miss Grey. You could never be a bother. And pray don’t talk if it pains you.”

She motioned weakly toward her throat, as if to apologize for her difficulty. Nicholas grabbed her hand in both of his, causing a look of surprise to flit over her face. He leaned over her.

“We will take care of you. You shall get the best care possible. Our own physician shall call every day, and Cora and Polly will stay here with you as long as you need them.”

She stared up at him, her lips parted and tears in her eyes, as if he had grown wings and a halo. Was it so hard to believe that someone could show her kindness and want to take care of her? His heart clenched inside his chest. But then, noticing her eyelids beginning to droop, he suspected that Cora had given her some medicine and that she wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer.



Julia stared up at Mr. Langdon, the laudanum starting to pull her under again. She should ask him what was happening with the War Office and the information she had acquired for them. Instead, her heart fluttered at the sensations coming from his hand holding hers. It couldn’t be improper, since she was so sick.

He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in two days, but the dark shadow it created on his chin and above his lip was rugged and masculine and not without appeal. He stared down at her so intensely, she imagined she could feel his eyes delving into her own, infusing her with his compassion and warmth. His hand was so strong, and those brown eyes . . .

“Thank you,” she rasped, her eyelids closing.

Cora came into the room. Julia heard her voice as if it were coming from far away. She was in danger of saying something foolish if she spoke. But she forced her eyes back open so she could look at him again. He was still leaning over her, still holding her hand. His grip was warm and gentle.

Cora was saying something about her falling asleep, that sleep was good for her. She tried to stay awake for him. She hadn’t thanked him properly for bringing Cora and Polly and saving poor Kitty from caring for her by herself. But she couldn’t make her mouth work. She took one last look at him through half-closed eyelids.

A moment later, something soft and warm pressed against her forehead. It felt like a kiss.



After three days, Julia was still so weak she could hardly walk across her room before becoming exhausted. At least she no longer thought she was dying.

Leorah and Nicholas Langdon had called on her every day. They would talk to her and tell her not to speak, as talking made her cough. Finally, on the third day, Leorah left the room to go fetch a book for her, and Julia was alone with Nicholas Langdon.

He leaned closer to her and spoke softly, his beautiful brown eyes fixed on hers.

“Does Mr. Wilhern suspect that you are spying on him? Is that why they left you here with hardly anyone to take care of you?”

“He was suspicious after I took that paper and copied it. I believe that is why he told me I had to marry Mr. Edgerton by special license last Friday. But I got sick and . . .” She smiled. “I was given a reprieve.”

“He would have forced you to marry Edgerton?” Mr. Langdon ran a hand down his face.

“I would not have.” She paused as a coughing fit came upon her. Thankfully, it wasn’t as violent or as lengthy as before.

While Julia was coughing, Mr. Langdon’s brow creased.

“Don’t talk. I know the coughing is painful.” And as she stopped coughing, he asked, “Is there anything I can get for you?”

She shook her head. “I would have run away rather than marry Mr. Edgerton.”

“What if you could not have escaped? I cannot let them make you marry him. Perhaps I could make arrangements for you to go to the country in secret.”

Of course he must understand that secretly sending her to the country would alert the Wilherns that something very suspicious was going on, and it could ruin Julia’s reputation as well.

“When will the War Office people act?” she asked. “If they would apprehend my uncle and Mr. Edgerton . . .”

“I think they will wait a bit longer, as they want to be certain they know who their fellow conspirators are. It is an easy thing to arrest the four men as they board their ship to the Continent, but apprehending everyone else involved at the same moment so that they do not flee . . . that is a bit more difficult.”

Julia nodded. But it was very inconvenient for her. And yet . . . she dreaded the awful moment when poor Phoebe’s father would be charged with treason. No doubt all his assets would be seized, and Phoebe would become fatherless and penniless at the same time.

Which was why Julia had sent a letter inquiring about the governess position in Suffolk. Phoebe’s Bath relations would surely take her in, or some of her other relations, but Julia would need to have a position to go to right away.