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But these past few days, without her memory, she’d felt more like herself than ever before.

What had she been so afraid of? Would Simon ever be able to forgive her for her treatment of him?

Was he already thinking about how to distance himself from her when they returned to London?

Why else would he speak of awkwardness and courtesy?

Now that she had begun to remember who she was, he wouldn’t want her anymore.

Marjorie opened her portmanteau and tossed in several items of clothing. She didn’t feel like packing. She couldn’t imagine not having Simon in her life. How could she convince him that she’d changed? She wasn’t the cold, rude person she’d been. She didn’t want to ever be that person again.

But how could she expect him to believe that? She hoped she could show him and that, when the rest of her memory returned, she wouldn’t revert to her old ways.

***

S IMON STEPPED INTO his flat and dropped his greatcoat on the floor.

Of course, he immediately picked it up and hung it on the coat rack, but his exhaustion was such that he had thought, just for an instant , about leaving the garment on the floor.

From the minute he and Marjorie—Agent Clawson—had retrieved the map, he had not had an hour to think.

He and Clawson had to transport the traitor back to London over several days.

Then, after delivering him to the Foreign Office for questioning, they’d had to endure their own questioning by the minister of this department or the deputy of that office.

He hadn’t seen Marjorie since they’d been taken to separate rooms for debriefing.

Simon strode into his drawing room and found his decanter of brandy. He paused, turned over two clean glasses, and filled both with three fingers. Lifting one, he sipped it.

He didn’t know what he’d say when he saw Marjorie—Agent Clawson—again. He rather wished he wouldn’t see her. Then she couldn’t end things between them. She wouldn’t be able to tell him that now that she had her memory back, she remembered how much she hated him and never wanted to see him again.

She’d hidden her loathing for him remarkably well on the journey back, but they’d both been consumed by work and hadn’t had a moment to speak privately.

They’d taken turns sleeping, and he couldn’t help but glance at her on occasion when she was unaware, just to convince himself that everything that had happened between them wasn’t a dream.

Instead, he was reminded of how beautiful she was and how, after months and months of infatuation, he’d fallen in love with her.

Perfect. He’d fallen in love with the one woman who hated him more than all else.

His snifter was empty, so he lifted the decanter to pour another.

“Pour one for me as well,” a familiar voice said. Simon stilled. He knew that voice.

“Already did.” He lifted the second snifter. “I was wondering when you’d show yourself.”

Marjorie stepped into the drawing room. She was still wearing a cream-colored pelisse, but her hat hung by its pink ribbons down her back. “I was wondering the same. I’ve been waiting a half hour.” She strode forward and took the snifter of brandy.

“I apologize.” They spoke so formally now. He hated it. “I suppose you’ve come to discuss what happened in Cornwall.”

She took a small sip of brandy. “Not at all. I feel as though I’ve done nothing but speak about Cornwall.”

“I didn’t mean the mission.”

“I know what you meant. My memory is clear. In fact, more and more of it has been returning since that last night.”

He nodded. That was as it should be. He wouldn’t wish permanent memory loss on her even if that was the only way he’d ever have her.

She set her snifter on the drinks cart beside him. “I owe you an apology,” she said.

Simon blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t like to apologize, Simon, so it would help if you were quiet during this.”

“Of course.”

She gave him an impatient look, and he put a finger to his lips. Then he downed the rest of his brandy. He was afraid he’d need it.

“As I said, my memory has been returning. A few years are still fuzzy and even some details of specific events are muddy. Melbourne had me see Farrar about the bump on my head.”

Simon was relieved to hear it. Farrar was one of the best surgeons they had.

“He can’t promise all my memory will return. He also said that a blow to the head wouldn’t account for the change in my personality. He commented several times that I seemed far more amiable of late.”

“Did you throttle him?”

“No. I apologized to him as I am about to apologize to you because it doesn’t matter if I was the greatest spy in British history, I didn’t have the right to treat you as I did.”

“Agent Clawson—”

“Won’t you call me Marjorie?”

Yes, yes he would.

“If you’ll permit me.”

“Then I’ll call you Simon, if you’ll permit me .”

“Of course.”

“Good.” She took a breath. “Simon, I did not treat you well. I didn’t treat most people well, and what I realized as my memory came back to me was that I was a rude, cold person.

Don’t try and deny it. I remember much of it perfectly, and I’m ashamed of how I behaved.

I’m deeply sorry for how I treated you, and there’s no excuse.

” She blinked and Simon wondered if she was holding back tears.

Marjorie Clawson crying? He did not want to be the cause of that.

He grasped her hand. “Clearly, you have changed. I forgive you, and I only hope we can be friends.”

She looked up at him. “I was hoping we might be more than friends.”

He didn’t dare take a breath. He didn’t dare move a fraction of an inch lest this dream would diffuse, and he’d wake.

“I remembered something else, Simon. I remembered why I behaved as I did. I always felt left out because I was a woman and almost every other agent was a man. I felt I had to act aloof and arrogant to be respected.”

“I can’t argue with that logic. Most of the male agents only grudgingly respect you, and even they would say the Foreign Office is no place for a woman.”

“I’ve heard all of that, and it made me defensive and angry.

And then I met you.” She squeezed his hand.

“You were so young and so handsome, and I liked you right away. At first, I was simply smitten by your good looks. Yes, even I can be smitten. But as I came to know you and work with you, I liked you even more. You’re not like the others.

You’re patient and kind and completely ruthless when you need to be.

You’re an excellent agent, but you’re an even better man. ”

His head was spinning, and he wanted— needed —to sit, but he feared any slight change might break this spell.

She took a breath. “I knew you had a tendre for me. As you said, you weren’t very good at hiding it.

Unfortunately, the fact that you reciprocated my feelings scared me.

I was afraid if you knew I felt the same—well, I don’t know what I thought might happen.

But for so many years I’d trained myself not to show any vulnerability to the other agents, so I refused to show you any.

I think I believed the only way to hide my feelings was to behave as though I couldn’t stand you. ”

“You’d make a good actress,” he whispered.

She gave him a sad smile. “Yes, but underneath all that acting, I was falling in love with you.”

He drew in a slow breath.

“I know you don’t feel the same. I’m not a fresh-faced debutante.

I know the difference between love and lust. What happened in Cornwall was lust. I don’t expect anything more from you.

But I wanted to apologize nonetheless, and I promise you that, going forward, I’ll treat you with respect.

I hope we can still work together. I value you as a partner.

” She released his hand and stepped back.

Simon stared down at his empty hand and then at her. She was backing away.

“No,” he said.

“No?” Her eyes widened, and she swallowed audibly. “I understand.”

He realized she thought he meant he couldn’t still work with her. “I mean, yes, I would be honored to work with you and be your partner whenever Melbourne pairs us, but you have what happened in Cornwall all wrong.”

“I do?”

“That wasn’t lust—well, it was lust. Quite a lot of lust, actually, but it was more than that for me.

All these years I’ve been infatuated with you, but over those few days, I fell in love with you, Marjorie.

And I’ve been scared out of my mind that once your memory returned, you’d recall how much you despised me. ”

She was shaking her head.

“I thought I would lose you,” he said.

“No.”

“I thought you came to end things between us.”

“I told you I wished for us to be more than friends.”

“There’s nothing I could want more.” He reached for her, but she held up a hand. Simon tensed because now was the moment when she demolished all his hopes. But instead, she sank to her knees.

***

M ARJORIE KNELT BEFORE Simon, her heart thudding in her chest. She couldn’t catch her breath, a bead of sweat trickled down her back, and her hands shook as though she’d stepped out into a blizzard naked. The comparison was apt as she’d never felt more exposed than she did now.

“What’s this?” he asked. “Stand up.”

“I can’t. This is the tradition. I must kneel when I ask you to marry me.”

His eyes went wide. “Is that what you’re doing?”

She nodded and waited for him to object. She waited for him to say, don’t do it . Instead, he stared at her with those striking sea-blue eyes. “Simon David Burrows,” she began. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

He sank to the floor before her. “Marjorie Anne Clawson, I thought you’d never ask.

” His hands went to her face, cupping her cheeks so he might kiss her tenderly.

She’d been missing his kisses, missing his touch.

She wrapped her arms about him, catching her knee on her skirts, and sent them both tumbling to the floor.

Simon rolled so she fell on him, and he took the brunt of the tumble.

And that was why she loved him. Even in something small like a stumble, he was there to catch her.

“I love you, Simon,” she said, kissing him again.

It was a long time before he was able to answer.

By then they were in his bedchamber which boasted two wardrobes— two!

—the man had more clothes than she did. Lying with her head on his naked chest, his voice rumbled in her ear.

“That wasn’t exactly tradition,” he said. “I’m supposed to ask you to marry me.”

She propped her chin on her elbow. “Well, I couldn’t wait around for you to figure that out.”

“I see you lost some of your patience when your memory began returning.”

“I was extremely impatient to be right here.”

“In my bed?”

“In your bed, in your arms, wherever you are.”

He smiled, and her breath caught. He really was the most handsome man. “I love you, Marjorie. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“You’re supposed to kneel.”

He gave her a wicked grin. “If you insist.” He rose over her and slid down her body, kneeling between her legs. A few moments later, he asked her again.

She said yes. Several times.