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G ray had just slammed Hadleigh against the wall when he sensed her, then bolted from the stables like a man possessed to try to fix the unfixable. He frantically scanned the yard and the meadow, knowing she was there and that she was in pain, then saw the unmistakable glimpse of fiery copper hurtling through the trees. He tore after her, oblivious of the odd looks he was getting from his men and his friends. Nothing else mattered but reaching her and trying to limit the damage of whatever she had potentially seen, or, God help him, overheard.

‘Thea! Wait!’ He plunged into the trees, ignoring the branches that caught and tore his clothes and skin. ‘Thea! Let me explain!’

She was fast. His lungs burned with the effort it took to come within touching distance. He reached out his hand, his fingers grazing the back of her dress. ‘Please let me explain!’

She skidded to a halt then and finally turned to face him, small fists clenched, her face leached of all colour, the awful evidence of his betrayal etched plainly on her lovely face. ‘Explain? What is there to explain? You are a liar! A barefaced, shameless, heartless liar!’

‘I’m not...’ Yet another lie when she deserved the truth. ‘All right—I’ve lied, yes... But I had to... But not about the important things. I didn’t lie about us.’

‘Really? Then last night wasn’t a lie. There wasn’t someone with you when you claimed you couldn’t bear to spend another second without me? When you climbed into my bed? Made yourself at home in my body?’

‘There was, but...’

‘How could you!’ Her face crumpled, but she held back the sob. ‘I trusted you! I gave myself to you believing you were genuine, yet you played me all along! Your own cousin forbade you from seducing me, because clearly you do this sort of thing a lot. How you must have laughed when I did your dirty work for you! Gave myself freely! What a stupid, ignorant fool I am!’

He reached out to touch her and the stinging slap across the face caught him unawares, although it wasn’t anywhere near as painful as he knew he deserved. ‘Don’t touch me, Gray! Never touch me again!’ She hugged her arms around her body and put six feet of distance between them. He couldn’t blame her for that either. If he could have left himself standing somewhere and marched off in disgust, he would have, too. ‘Why me? Was it sport? My fortune? The challenge?’

‘I work for the government.’ The least he could do was give the whole truth, no matter how unpalatable it was. ‘For a covert agency called the King’s Elite. Lord Fennimore is my superior, not my cousin. We created that story as a cover, to attempt to infiltrate a dangerous smuggling ring and bring the ringleader to justice. I wish I could have told you all that, I really do, but I couldn’t. My mission had to take precedence over everything else—except it didn’t. You kept pulling me away from it. I’ve always been drawn to you. That part wasn’t a lie. All my background, everything about Cecily, all that is the honest truth, too. I’ve never lied to you about any of that.’ His voice was desperate. ‘In fact, I doubt you’ll believe me in light of what you now know, but you are the only person on this earth who knows me that well. But I was tasked with befriending your uncle. Ingratiating myself into his circle.’ He was spilling state secrets, breaking the law, but she was worth it. They were worth it. If he could make her understand.

‘My uncle?’ There were tears on her cheeks. More silently spilling over her long lashes. Tears he had caused. Each one like a knife to the chest.

‘We have intelligence which leads us to believe he is the leader of that smuggling gang.’

She baulked, her face paling further. ‘The cut-throat who murdered those men in Newgate?’ She staggered backwards towards the brook, her head shaking with denial. ‘That’s preposterous!’

‘Yesterday the Excise Men intercepted a smuggling vessel at Leiston.’ The words felt like dust in his throat, but they now had a direct link to Gislingham Hall. The warrants had been issued. Her uncle’s arrest was imminent. Sooner, seeing as she had overhead things their planned midnight raid would have to be brought forward. ‘An express arrived at the hall within two hours of the raid. At roughly the same time, we were able to link the ship to a storehouse in Ipswich. It was heavily guarded. A few hours ago, we raided it and took every man within it prisoner. I am sorry to tell you that, as we suspected, it was filled with illegal French brandy.’ The pretty, trusting mouth he had kissed just hours ago hung slack, disbelieving. ‘But there was more. Guns, tea, tobacco...money. It hasn’t all been counted yet, but we estimate there is in excess of twenty thousand pounds in coin alone.’ There was no point sparing her from the most damning connection. The one he still struggled to come to terms with himself. ‘According to the landlord, the storehouse is rented by a Mr Walsham.’

‘Bertie?’

‘And he’s seen a carriage bearing the Gislingham crest there on more than one occasion in the last few weeks. Late at night. But while the witnesses cannot describe the passengers’ faces, they all clearly remember the two canes he needed to lean on as he was helped out of the coach.’

‘I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it! This is just more deception piled on your lies! Neither my uncle nor Bertie would ever do such things. They are not criminals!’

He rifled in his pocket for the charred piece of note, knowing she needed to see the proof with her own eyes. ‘Do you recognise this handwriting?’

She stared at it, then flinched, recoiling at the sight, circling around him warily. He held it out. ‘Look at it closely. It is a matter of national importance.’ She took it and stared, her features frozen but her eyes tragic. She knew it. It went no way to making him feel better. ‘Men have died. Too many of them. It’s my job to see that nobody else does. Please, Thea—tell me. Do you recognise this handwriting?’

‘No!’ Then he felt her palms flat against his chest as she lunged, sending him flying backwards into the water. By the time he hauled himself up the bank, he heard the horse’s hooves kick into a gallop and, sopping wet and utterly devastated, was forced to watch her ride like the wind towards her house, the precious, tiny, damning piece of evidence gone with her.

Thea had no memory of the short journey home. Not when her mind was reeling and the ground had been pulled from beneath her feet in more ways than one. But she miraculously made it in one piece and headed to the sitting room blindly.

‘How could you?’ Her temper so hot and bubbling above the surface, she swept her hand violently across the mantelpiece, sending all the tawdry silk arrangements flying.

Her aunt stared back at her blankly. ‘Is everything all right, dearest?’

Thea held out the damning charred fragment. The one covered in her aunt’s small, neat writing. Needing to piece together some sense out of the tempest of chaos swirling in her head. ‘I know! I know all about your warehouse and the smuggling.’

Caro gently grasped the toxic piece of paper and stared at it silently. ‘How did you get this?’

‘The Excise Men retrieved it from a ship they boarded yesterday.’ Her aunt sat up straighter. ‘They’ve impounded all your brandy!’

All those meaningless lunches, all those shopping trips. Just lies. So many lies and all from people she cared about.

‘But how did you come to have this?’

‘They asked me if I recognised the handwriting! They caught the Captain trying to burn it.’ Her aunt’s calmness was staggering. Thea was accusing her of hideous, criminal acts and she hadn’t even left her chair. Hadn’t looked outraged or denied any of it. ‘I snatched it and came here to confront you. I can’t believe it...’

‘Did you tell them it was mine?’

‘No. I ran. I didn’t want to believe it... But they can’t be far behind me. They have a small army.’ Good grief, this was all so surreal. Why didn’t her aunt deny it? ‘Is it true? Have you killed men?’

‘Not personally.’ Her aunt stood and began to pace, her eyes oddly blinking as she tapped the burned piece of paper against her other hand. ‘This is all very unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected.’ She sighed, as if it was of no matter rather than the most catastrophic and devastating news Thea had ever heard. For a woman who stressed about every wrinkle, her composure at the bombshell was staggering. ‘Are you certain you never told them whose writing this is?’

‘Not yet. I wanted to look you in the eyes. I wanted to understand.’ But she didn’t. Why anyone would stoop so low? And were Bertie and her uncle also involved? ‘He said the warehouse is rented by Bertie. Is that true?’

‘As it’s in his name, legally it is.’

‘What sort of an answer is that?’ Thea gripped the other woman’s arm hard, not caring that her nails bit into her skin. Caro tugged her arm away.

‘Have they seen your uncle at the warehouse? The carriage?’

How did Caro know all this? ‘Yes.’

‘Yet only you know this handwriting is mine?’ Her face contorted into an ugly expression. Calculated. Cruel. Completely mad. ‘Interesting...’

‘Interesting?’ Thea’s world was falling apart. Blown to smithereens. And it was just interesting ? For the first time, Thea saw through the brittleness and the self-absorption to the woman beneath the ageing face she fought so hard to keep youthful. Her uncle might well be a criminal, too, something she still couldn’t quite believe, but he had been right. Her aunt was every inch the cold, callous, self-serving and unfeeling witch he had always accused her of being. ‘All this time, I tolerated your vanity and made excuses for your affairs, yet they were apparently the tip of the iceberg. You’re a criminal. A murderess...’

Her aunt caught her expression and snarled, ‘How dare you judge me, Thea! You are the last person in the world who can judge me! I had no alternative. Not when you and your uncle forced me into it.’ She saw it then. Blind, unadulterated hatred burning in the other woman’s eyes. Hatred for her. Hatred that made no sense.

‘Forced you?’

‘He ruined everything. Years of planning. Years of sacrifice...yet he gave you everything and left me with a pittance!

‘Everything that isn’t entailed or cannot be nailed down was legally bound to you in trust the day before we married! Out of sheer spite! When he dies, which he will sooner rather than later, this house will go to some distant, faceless male relative and then where would I have been left? All the money has already gone to you! It was Edward’s petty act of revenge. One I should have foreseen!’ Out of nowhere her hand shot out and something hard and blunt struck Thea on the temple.

She saw stars and staggered backwards, catching herself on the sideboard before she crashed on the floor. Dazed, it took several moments before she could focus properly on the pistol pointed at her. ‘You’re a monster !’ Why hadn’t she seen it before? ‘But they are coming for you!’

‘No, dearest. They are not. They are coming for Bertie and Edward. I have made very sure of that.’