Page 60 of A Rogue at Stonecliffe

“I’ve put the curricle away,” he said behind her.

Annabeth jumped and turned to him, her face flushing. Why had he had to catch her here, as if she were spying on him, as if she were thinking what it would be like to be in that luxurious bed? Which, of course, she was, but she hated for him to realize that.

“I was, ah, just wandering about,” she said, with a vague motion toward the room.

He smiled. “I’m glad. I like to see you here.” He shifted. “That is to say, you are welcome here, anywhere in the house.”

If she hadn’t felt so stiff and embarrassed herself, Annabeth would have smiled. It was so rare to see Sloane looking unsure. The black walnut bed frame and its incredibly soft-looking mattress seemed to fill the room, and she suspected that it was as much on Sloane’s mind as it was on hers, for his eyes went toward it and quickly away. The line of his cheekbones was tinged with red, too, though she thought it was probably not embarrassment that brought his blood up.

“Well,” she said as if summing something up, and looked toward the door leading into the hall. “Uh, I... I suppose I’ve toured it all.”

Annabeth started toward the door, and Sloane stepped aside politely, then followed her out of the room. “Have you chosen where you would like to stay?”

“Any of the rooms will suit. They are all quite nice. I thought the one by the stairs might be your father’s.”

“Yes. That’s where Marcus usually stays.” He gestured across the hall to the opposite door. “This is the most comfortable chamber. It’s at the rear of the house and you don’t have the street noise. And it’s the closest to mine. I mean, if there was any danger or...anything, I could hear you cry out.”

“Yes, of course. That sounds the best.” She could hardly say that being right across the hall from him would only add to the illicit sort of thoughts she kept having.

“Well... I’ll leave you then. Perhaps you’d like to wash off the dust of the road and rest. I can send up a pitcher of water.”

“Thank you, yes. That would be nice.”

“I’ll be downstairs. Antoine is putting together some sort of dinner for us.”

Annabeth nodded and went into her chamber. She emerged later, feeling much refreshed from the wash and change of clothes, but she hadn’t rested. Even though she was tired, she was also too much on edge to nap.

The meal Antoine had arranged for them was simple—cold meats, cheese, and bread—but it was delicious, and Annabeth was too hungry to care if it hadn’t been. When they had satisfied their hunger, they lingered over a coffee and slice of cake.

“Your house isn’t what I expected,” Annabeth said.

“No?” Sloane lifted his brows. “You thought something more garish?”

“No.” She smiled. “Not that. But something bolder, I suppose. Noelle described your home in the country—a haunted-looking castle, I believe is what she said.”

“Yes.” He smiled. “It appealed to my sense of the dramatic. But there’s nothing around there for miles. Here...” He shrugged. “I find it’s better not to proclaim my presence. It’s close to my business yet still a pleasant area, and it’s not easy to break into. Only one door, few windows. The drainpipe is far from the windows, and there’s no trellis nor a tree large enough and close enough to climb. The hedge across the front of the house covers the bottom of the windows downstairs, making it difficult to pry open the locks, and upstairs, the large and overgrown flower boxes create a nice obstruction to the windows. The attic windows don’t open and are too small for anyone to get through other than a child.”

Annabeth stared at him. “That is why you have the plants?”

“Well, I do like for them to be attractive as well. But I’ve made something of a habit out of avoiding possible dangers.”

She shook her head. “I feel as if I hardly know you sometimes. You were never cautious.”

“A few scars taught me to be more circumspect. Boldness is all well and good until you get a knife in the side.”

Annabeth sucked in her breath. “Sloane, no...”

He shrugged. “It hit a rib. I lost a little blood.”

“How often did that sort of thing happen?”

“It happened more often at first. I learned to check my back and trust no one and to scout any rendezvous beforehand.”

“It sounds terrible.”

“It had its moments. I won’t deny that it was exciting. I liked outwitting the enemy. The time I spent in America was less enjoyable. I came to know the enemy there, and I liked many of them. Just foolish people who wanted to revive the glory of France...from a safe distance. That’s when I left Asquith’s employ and found my excitement in making money.”

“And you were a success.”