“Shipment?” Caroline asked. She'd thought that Oliver had been carrying secret messages and documents. But the word shipment seemed to indicate something bigger. Could they be smuggling ammunition? Weapons? The boat didn't look big enough to be carrying something so large.

The men ignored her. “The wife of an agent,” the stranger muttered. “Sweet hell, you're stupid. The last thing we need is attention from the War Office.”

“We already had attention,” Oliver shot back, pulling Caroline along with him into ever deeper waters. “Blake Ravenscroft and the Marquis of Riverdale are up on the bluff. They've been watching you all night. If it hadn't been for me—”

“If it hadn't been for you,” the other man interrupted, yanking Caroline against him, “we would never have been detected in the first place. Ravenscroft and Riverdale certainly didn't learn of our assignation from me.”

“You know my husband?” Caroline said, too surprised to even struggle.

“I know of him,” he replied. “And by tomorrow, so will all of France.”

“Dear God,” she whispered. Oliver must be smuggling out a list of agents. Agents who would then be targets for assassination. Agents like Blake and James.

She thought of ten different plans all at once and dismissed them all. A scream seemed useless; if Blake was watching the beach, he'd surely already have seen her and would not need to be alerted to her presence. And attacking either Oliver or the French agent would only get her killed. The only possibility was to somehow stall for time until Blake and James arrived.

But then what would happen? They would have no element of surprise. Oliver knew they were there.

She caught her breath. Oliver seemed rather unconcerned with the War Office's presence. Without thinking, she jerked her gaze up to the clifftop, but saw nothing.

“Your husband isn't going to save you,” Oliver said with cruel satisfaction. “My men are taking care of him even as we speak.”

“Then why did you bring me here?” she whispered, her heart shattering within her chest. “You didn't need me.”

He shrugged. “Whimsy. I wanted him to know I had you. I wanted him to see me give you to Davenport.”

The man he called Davenport chuckled and pulled her closer. “She may prove entertaining.”

Oliver scowled. “Before I let you make off with her—”

“I can go nowhere until the shipment arrives,” Davenport bit off. “Where the hell is she?”

She? Caroline blinked and tried not to show a reaction.

“She's coming,” Oliver snapped. “And how long have you known about Ravenscroft?”

“A few days. Perhaps a week. You are not my only means of transport.”

“You should have told me,” Oliver growled.

“You have given me no reason to trust you with anything other than the providing of a boat.”

Caroline took advantage of the two men's absorption in their argument to scan the beach and cliff for any signs of action. Blake was up there fighting for his life and there wasn't a damned thing she could do about it. She had never felt so utterly hopeless in all her life. Even with her parade of horrible guardians, she'd always held on to hope that eventually her life would turn aright. But if Blake were to be killed…