Slowly he withdrew, holding them both on the edge of delight. Expectation thrummed in her veins, and he could feel it in his own flesh buried deep within her.

"Gabrielle," he whispered, and took her with him into the inferno.

******************************************************************

"How's Jake? I've been meaning to ask ever since I saw you, but something else always distracted me." She smiled indolently, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. "How was he on the boat?" She plucked a succulent stem of grass from the base of the tree and sucked it with the same dreamy smile.

Nathaniel grimaced. "The only way I could get him aboard was to carry him bodily, kicking and screaming blue murder. If anyone had been around to hear, they'd have accused me of torturing the poor mite. Fortunately, it was a calm crossing, so he quietened down; I don't think he holds it against me," he added with a wry grin.

"And you left him at Burley Manor?" She tossed aside the chewed stem and plucked a fresh one.

"Yes, in the arms of an overjoyed Primmy and Nurse. The entire household was frantic. They thought he'd been abducted. Miles had called in the Bow StreetRunners, and they were swarming all over the countryside."

"I can imagine," she said, adding casually, “is Primmy still there?"

Nathaniel pulled down a strand of foliage fromtheir canopy and tickled her nose.. "Yes she’s still there, Madame Interference. But so is Jeffrys."

"I suppose that's all right so long as he still has Primmy," she said, wrinkling her nose under the tickling leaves.

"Your qualified approval overwhelms me, ma'am." He released the frond, letting it spring back into the canopy, and dislodged her head from his shoulder. "It's time to make a move." He stood up and bent to catch her hands, hauling her to her feet.

"How are we to manage?" Gabrelle asked as she shook down her skirt. She was stunned with fulfillment, warm satiation flowing like honey in her veins, and yet the need to establish some plan of campaign before they parted couldn't be postponed.

Nathaniel picked up his cloak and shook it free of grass and leaves. "I want you to leave that up to me," he said, as calm and matter-of-fact as if they hadn't passed two transcendent hours under the moon.

"How?" She tossed her hair back over her shoulders, combing her fingers through the tangled ringlets. "Where are you staying?"

"In the town. Six Vilna Street I have lodgings with a widow."

"Alone?"

"Yes." He picked up her discarded cloak and shook it out.

Gabrielle filed this information away for future reference. "How will we meet?"

"At every reception, dinner, and social engagement," he said, draping the cloak over her shoulders.

"I mean, how will we meet?" she said, fastening the clasp of the cloak.

"Ah… is that what you meant? I didn't quite understand."

"Oh, don't tease!" Playfully she punched him in the ribs and he caught her wrist, clipping it behind her as he pulled her into his body, pushing up her chin with his free hand.

"I said, leave it to me."

"I'm to wait for you to tell me what to do?" The look in her eyes seemed to indicate that she didn't find the prospect particularly appealing.

"I may not tell you in so many words, but the message will be clear enough if you use your wits and watch me and listen to me very carefully whenever we're together."

He was quite serious now, and Gabrielle quashed the inclination to challenge his assumption of authority. It was his life on the line, after all.

"You must understand," he was saying in the same matter-of-fact tone, "that if I'm discovered at any point, then you too will be in danger if there's anything to connect us."

"You hardly need to tell me that," she said dryly.

"But do I have to tell you to be discreet?" He pulled up the hood of her cloak, tucking her hair away. "In public, there are to be no double entendres, none of your wicked looks, no indications at all-I mean at all, Gabrielle-that we have any interest in each other."

"What do you take me for?" she demanded.

"A reckless, wanton, lamentably undisciplined brigand," he said roundly. "Without a discreet bone in your body when it comes to games of passion."

Gabrielle grimaced, obliged to admit that she'd given him enough ammunition in the past to justify such an opinion. "I'll treat you with lofty disdain," she said. "Unless you'd prefer active dislike?"

"Ordinary civility will do fine," he said, circling her throat with his hands, his thumbs pushing up her chin.

"That's never been easy between us," she teased. "I'm not sure I'll be able to manage it."

"I'm serious, Gabrielle."

"Yes, I know you are."

He nodded and kissed her eyelids. "You'd better be on your way. It's already getting light."

"There's no law against taking a dawn stroll," she said. "Just as long as you don't stroll into town on my heels."

"I won't. Off you go now." He turned her with apat and thrust her through the veil of leaves onto the path. "And be careful of lurking stones."

"Why can't we meet here again tonight'" She paused, squinting against the rosy ball of the rising sun.

"Maybe we can. it depends what the day brings. I'll tell you if we can."

"Very well, my lord." She laughed and blew him a kiss, then turned and walked away, a skip to her step despite the sleepless night.

Nathaniel waited in the willow grotto for over an hour before following her. He sat on the grass, leaning against the tree trunk, his eyes closed as he rested in a half-sleep that he knew would be as refreshing as several hours of deep sleep.

So Gabrielle had given up espionage. Was it for good?

He let the thought warm him as the sun's heat grew, filtering through the silvery fronds of the willow.

******************************************************************

"The Comtesse de Beaucaire's a striking woman," observed Count Nicholas Tolstoy, letting his lorgnette fall and helping himself to a dainty oyster barquette from the tray proffered by a footman.

"Indeed," Nathaniel agreed somewhat indifferently. "Although I confess I find Princess Kirov more to my taste."

"Oh, do you like fluffy blondes?' the count said. "I prefer a little spice to my meat." He laughed with ahearty masculine complacence that grated on Nathaniel's nerves.

"I understand you have the task; of inquiring after Napoleon's health every morning." he commented, changing the subject.

"Oh, yes. The czar is most anxious to know that his dear friend and ally has passed a restful night," Tolstoy said. "Just as General Duroc trots up to our door on the same errand from Napoleon at nine o'clock every morning."

"How touching," Nathaniel said dryly, and the count laughed.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Did you enjoy the ride this morning?" Gabrielle glided across the salon toward them. Her gown of dove-gray Italian gauze flowed around her, hinting at the length of leg beneath, the soft curve of her hips.

"More than the King of Prussia, madame," Count Tolstoy said with an ironic smile.

"Yes, poor man." Gabrielle looked across the room to where the unhappy Frederick William of Prussia stood on the outskirts of the group centered on the two emperors. "Napoleon was making fun of his uniform this morning. He asked him how he managed to button so many buttons on his tunic."

"He shouldn't have come," Nathaniel said. "He knows Napoleon despises him and he was simply setting himself up for further humiliation."

"That's harsh, my friend," Tolstoy remonstrated. "It's only natural that he'd hope for some concessions for Prussia out of these negotiations."

"A fond and foolish hope," Nathaniel declared. "And his pathetic wife, trying to flirt with Napoleon as if her womanly charms could soften him."