Heloise bit her lip. “I suppose Castlereagh could send the remaining messages here by courier. Or I could go to one of the safe houses, until all this blows over.”
Raven nodded absently, as if his mind was already on something else. “Could youwritea message in this code?”
“I suppose so.”
He strode back to the desk, pulled forward paper and ink, and waved her over with an impatient hand. Heloise crossed to the chair he pulled out for her and sank into it. “What do you want me to write?”
“Date it for last week. Say, ‘Still in hospital. Expect to make a full recovery.’ EncodedFrench,of course.”
Heloise shot him a how-stupid-do-you-think-I-am glare, pulled the sheet toward her, and flattened the translated message on the desk. She ignored the inward curl of pleasure that being so close to Raven produced. Her whole body hummed in awareness. “I have all my notes and workings at home. This would be a lot easier if I could just—”
Raven shook his head. She frowned as he hovered over her shoulder. “I’ll need a while to work this out, you know. Go glower somewhere else, at least.”
He stepped back and she began to reverse-engineer the code into its individual letter components. Muffled sounds of revelry from the party downstairs joined the scratch of her pen as she first wrote out the message in French, then started to encode it, letter by letter. “What does it mean, anyway?”
“It’s a French spy code. ‘Still in hospital’ means still a prisoner. ‘Expect to make a full recovery,’ means he’ll await rescue or further instructions. Sign itBaker.”
Heloise nodded. So this was supposed to be a note from the Frenchman in custody. At least the name was easy—it was already encoded in the original message. “There.” She turned to Raven and handed him the note then glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantel. “So now what?”
He folded the note and slipped it inside his jacket. “I’ll send this to Castlereagh. He can get it into French hands without arousing suspicion.”
Heloise stood, smoothed down her skirts. Raven sidestepped, blocking her escape. He was half-smiling again, a look that made her instantly apprehensive. His dark gaze dropped to her mouth and a traitorous warmth curled through her. “I haven’t thanked you properly.”
He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. Heloise frowned. Was this a goodbye kiss, because he’d be going to Spain? He kissed her again, and everything went a little hazy.
When the back of her knees hit something hard she realized, dimly, that he’d maneuvered her to the side of the bed. She shivered when he entwined their fingers and drew her arms behind her back, angling his head to press kisses along her jaw, her ear, her temple.
“Hellcat…” he murmured against her lips. “I’m sorry about this.”
Heloise frowned. Sorry? Why would he be—? A terrible suspicion formed the exact moment something cold closed around her wrist with an ominous metallic click. Raven reared back. She felt her arm jerk sideways and glanced down. Disbelief quickly gave way to fury.
The pig-swivingbastardhad handcuffed her to the bed.
Chapter 7
Heloise took a deep, calming breath.
Raven, sensible devil, took a few more steps back—well out of kicking range—and regarded her with a distinctly self-satisfied air, arms crossed, legs apart like a pirate surveying a ship full of treasure. She gave her wrist an experimental tug. The cuff rattled against the wooden bedpost and scraped uncomfortably against her skin but didn’t give an inch.
“No point struggling.” Raven grinned cheerfully. “That post is the best Cuban mahogany.” He held up a small metal key, tucked it into the breast pocket of his waistcoat, and patted it.
Heloise strove for a reasonable tone. “This is completely unnecessary. Let me go.”
His obnoxious smile widened. “Can’t, I’m afraid.” He leaned back against the wall, all long and lean and supremely relaxed. Bastard.
He shrugged. “I can’t let you go home. I promised Castlereagh I’d keep an eye on you until we find out who killed Edward. Don’t glare at me like that, Hellcat. I care more about your safety than your good opinion.”
She rattled her wrist. “It never occurred to you to simply explain andaskme to stay? No, of course not. You boys always prefer the dramatic physical gesture over intelligent diplomacy. This is kidnapping!”
“Tsk. ‘Kidnapping’ is such a strong word. Let’s call it ‘protective custody.’ ”
“Calling it something else doesn’t alter the facts.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled.
“You think this is amusing? Let me tell you, Ravenwood, you’re as funny as a toothache.”
“It’s for your own good. Think of me as your bodyguard.”