Page 44 of Irresistible
“I’ll look for repetitive numbers, which are typically common letters such as a or e or s.” Plucking a piece of parchment from the corner of the desk, she set it next to the letter. Then she grasped the quill and began studying the letter for repetitive numbers—both individual and groupings that could indicate entire words.
“I don’t suppose you’d describe your methodology,” Dougal said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m quite keen to know how you work.”
Jess turned her head to look at him. “I am flattered; however, now is not the time if you want me to work this out as quickly as possible. I shall be happy to share my process once I have broken it.”
“Of course.”
She nodded at him, then turned back to her work, copying the letter meticulously. The sound of his fingers drumming against the table interrupted her once more. Stretching her neck, she redoubled her efforts to remain focused.
A few minutes later, he stood and paced to the hearth, where he tapped his fingertips on the mantel. She slid a look at him. He’d braced his hands on the mantel, his body stretched so that he formed a triangle with the floor and fireplace. He seemed to brood into the hearth, as if something of grave consternation was located within.
At last, she finished her copy. “Here, you can take this to Mrs. Farr.” She held up the original letter. “Then perhaps you should go for a walk,” she suggested. If he didn’t leave her alone, he was going to continue to distract her.
He pushed away from the fireplace and came to retrieve the letter from her. “Am I bothering you?”
“A little. I’m not used to interruption when I work on my puzzles.” She also wasn’t used to deciphering something of actual value. This wasn’t an amusement; it was a vital piece of national safety.
“Of course, my apologies. I’m feeling unsettled after the shooting—and not because of what happened when you fired. I have questions about our hosts.”
Jess understood, and yet she wasn’t sure she believed him about her near miss. How could he not be upset by it? If he’d been standing just a little more to the left, she would have hit him. The thought made her stomach turn.
He’d said she should give it another try, but after that, she wasn’t sure she could ever touch a gun again. She was also beginning to doubt whether this kind of work was right for her. What sort of spy was afraid of guns?
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Dougal said, going to the door.
“What will you do after you return the letter?” she asked.
He lifted a shoulder. “Talk to the servants. Poke around in whatever rooms I can access. That sort of thing. Good luck.”
“You too,” she called after him as he closed the door.
She returned to the code for a few minutes, but her mind wandered back to Dougal. Perhaps he was the reason she was doubting herself. The more time she spent with him, the more she liked him, and the less interested she was in investigating him as she was required to do. She just couldn’t see him working against the crown.
But what did she really know? He was an accomplished spy. Presumably, he could fool her with little effort. Honestly, it probably wouldn’t be difficult since she was already completely dazzled by him.
Perhaps she ought to give him a fake version of the deciphered letter—one that would supposedly threaten the execution of a French plan. If he never turned it into the Foreign Office, that would prove he was working in contradiction. But how on earth would she come up with something like that? Furthermore, doing that would jeopardize their primary objective with the Chesmores. If she gave him something that incriminated them, and he wasn’t working for the French, she would have damned the Chesmores.
She put her forehead in her palm. This was utterly overwhelming. Had Dougal ever felt this way? He’d been new to espionage once. She had to think he’d had misgivings.
Only, Jess worried her uncertainty came from a different place. She’d been positively thrilled to take this adventure. To serve her country in this way was the opportunity—and dream—of a lifetime. Why then was she more interested in the pretend part of the assignment? She’d begun to think marriage was not the trap she’d long envisioned. With the right person, perhaps it was even…attractive.
Bother, Mary and Gil’s loving and companionable union was clearly having an effect upon her. It was much more acceptable to blame that instead of the comfort and ease of her fake marriage with Dougal.
She needed to put her job at the forefront, and that included investigating Dougal, not fixating on how she felt about him. Better to recall his suspicious activity, particularly the stealing off into the night with his pistol and hiding the fact that he’d brought it until he’d had to tell her.
Except he had perfectly acceptable reasons for everything he did. It wasn’t as if he was the one who’d tried to shoot her. That would certainly have added to her doubt.
Letting out a groan of frustration, she redirected her attention to the letter.Thiswas her primary purpose for being here—not investigating Dougal, not learning to shoot, and not anticipating the next time she’d have an excuse to touch Dougal or for him to touch her.
Definitely not that.
Jess put her quill to parchment and pushed him from her mind.
The house was quiet as Dougal prowled the library late that evening. The Chesmores had retired earlier than usual, and Jess had pleaded exhaustion after dinner so she could work on the letter. Dougal had avoided returning to their room so she could work in peace.
Or was he avoiding being alone with her in a small space that included a bed?
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore his desire for her. He was also growing increasingly irritated with himself for his inability to separate his base urges from what should be a professional arrangement.
