Blake took a step forward. “She's already dressed. And we'll need to ask her about—”

But James put up a hand. “We've all day to badger her into submission.”

Caroline gulped. She didn't like the sound of that.

The two men left the room, and she jumped up, splashed some water on her face, and donned shoes. It felt heavenly to get up and stretch her muscles. She'd been stuck in bed for the past two days and was not used to such inactivity.

Caroline righted her appearance as best as she could, which wasn't saying much, as she'd been wearing the same clothes for four days. They were horribly wrinkled, but they looked clean enough, so she arranged her hair in a single thick braid, then tested the door. She was delighted to see that it was not locked. It wasn't difficult to find her way to the staircase, and she quickly ran down to the ground floor.

“Going somewhere?”

She looked up sharply. Blake was leaning insolently against the wall, his sleeves rolled up and his arms crossed. “Tea,” she whispered. “You said I could have some.”

“Did I?” he drawled.

“If you didn't, I'm sure you meant to.”

His lips curved into an unwilling smile. “You do have a way with words.”

She offered him a too-sweet grin. “I'm practicing. After all, I haven't used any for days.”

“Don't push me, Miss Trent. My temper is hanging by a very slender thread.”

“I rather thought it had already snapped,” she retorted. “And beside that, if I'm to call you Blake, you might as well call me Caroline.”

“Caroline. It suits you much better than Carlotta ever did.”

“Amen to that. I haven't a drop of Spanish blood in me. A touch of French,” she added, aware that she was babbling but too nervous in his presence to stop, “but no Spanish.”

“You've quite compromised our mission, you realize.”

“I can assure you it was not my intention.”

“I'm sure it wasn't, but the fact remains that you're going to have to make amends.”

“If my making amends will result in Oliver spending the rest of his life in prison, you can be assured of my complete cooperation.”

“Prison would be unlikely. The gallows are a much more distinct probability.”

Caroline swallowed and looked away, suddenly realizing that her involvement with these two men might send Oliver to his death. She detested the man, to be sure, but she couldn't like being the cause of anyone's demise.

“You'll need to discard your sentimentality,” Blake said.

She looked up in shock. Was her face that easy to read? “How did you know what I was thinking?”

He shrugged. “Anyone with a conscience faces that dilemma when they first start in this business.”

“Did you?”

“Of course. But I outgrew that quickly.”

“What happened?”

He cocked a brow. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Not half as many as you did,” she returned.

“I had a government-sanctioned reason to be asking so many questions.”