The cracking and crunching underfoot was loud enough to rouse an army of men from their slumber. "Can you not be a little lighter in your steps?" he whispered as he led the way through the woods. "It doesn't matter now. But as we get closer, I don't want to alert them to our presence."
"You were right," she muttered. "I should have worn those blasted breeches." Her curse revealed the depth of her frustration. "I keep snagging my dress and can barely see where to place my feet."
Marcus smiled, thankful she could not see his amused expression in the dark. "I did warn you. Here, take my hand if it's easier."
"It's so dark. How do you know which way to go?"
"I have walked these woods a hundred times or more."
He stopped and offered his hand. Their gazes locked for a moment and she took it without hesitation. With neither of them wearing gloves, her hot palm kindled the flaming passion simmering inside. Indeed, now that he'd tasted her lips he doubted anything could extinguish it.
"Let's hope there are no horse thieves wandering about." She sighed as she glanced back over her shoulder. "Are you sure it was wise to leave them tied to the tree?"
She really did baffle him. There were times when he believed she had the strength and resolve of the strongest of men. As Madame Labelle, she knew how to convey a certain power and level of independence. He had heard it in her tone numerous times. Yet there was an air of innocence about her whenever she expressed her worries and fears. He liked both aspects of her character.
Both made his cock stir.
"The horses will be safe." He tightened his grip on her hand, the need to comfort and protect pushing to the fore. "We'll need to remain silent for a moment as the cottage is in a clearing just beyond these trees."
"Wait," she whispered tugging on his hand. "Remind me what we're doing here."
Marcus turned to face her. Golden strands of hair framed her face beneath the dark hood of her cape. Turquoise-blue eyes stared back at him, and he resisted the urge to claim her mouth.
"I need to know for certain what they intend to smuggle. I'll make a note of it so I can track when it's being moved."
She nodded.
"You can wait here for me," he added. "I'll be five minutes at most."
"No. You said you needed my help. If we're spotted, we will pretend to be lovers."
Perhaps it was time he accepted the truth of it.
He did not really need her with him and despite her concern over the comte's accomplice, he was sure she'd be safe inside the monastery. But for some strange reason he wanted an excuse to be close to her. Yes, if the men suspected they were lovers it did provide a plausible reason to be out alone at night. Indeed, he had grown tired of pretending. He could make it happen. It would not take much to rouse her desire.
"Very well. Stay close. And don't be surprised if I need to kiss you again."
The stone cottage had been abandoned for years. Had it been on Marcus' land, he would have repaired the roof, fixed the windows, and used it as a cosy hunting cabin. The absence of any light spilling out from the windows did not mean the place lay empty.
They watched and waited for a few minutes. He tried to focus on the assignment but the lady at his side still gripped his hand, and he could feel the warmth of her body radiate through his palm.
If he had timed things correctly, the men should be at the inn collecting all the contraband they could carry. But it paid to be cautious. Tapping his finger to his lips to secure her silence, they crept towards the north wall. With one of the frames missing from the window, it afforded an opportunity to peer inside.
It took a moment for his eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness, to realise the tall black shadows were nothing more than items of furniture. The deafening silence convinced him no one was home.
"We'll take a look inside," he mouthed, his voice quieter than a whisper.
With some hesitation he opened the door, the damp, swollen wood catching on the floor to restrict their access.
"If we force it, they'll know someone's been here."
They squeezed through the gap, coming to stand next to the table. A thick layer of dust, dead flies and leaves littered the surface. A lantern, an empty bottle and various food-encrusted utensils sat amongst the debris.
"Are you sure they came here?" she asked, standing so close her arm brushed against his, forcing him to swallow down his desire for her again.
He scanned the room. "I followed them here a few nights ago. Damn it all. They can't have moved the goods already." If Coombes failed to catch them, he would refuse to give Marcus another assignment. "Come."
They moved through the dilapidated house, glancing up at the exposed wooden beams where parts of the ceiling had fallen away, stepping carefully to avoid the broken boards.