Desire danced along her skin as she remembered the softness of his lips mixed with the roughness of his not-quite-shaven cheeks and chin. His hands were every bit as strong and steady as she’d guessed, and her own had gone from the solidity of his shoulders to where his hair curled slightly against his neck.But marching along with those memories, her mind demanded that she pay attention to what he’d told her before those kisses. She was inclined to believe Julien about his working for Walsingham, but that didn’t mean she thought he’d told her anything approaching all of it. And nor had she in return.And then there was the a priori puzzle: why had Walsingham sent her to Blanclair without all the necessary information? As she’d said to Julien, that might imply that Walsingham had cause to doubt Julien’s current loyalty. Or it might simply mean that he’d told her only what he thought she should know.But of one thing she was certain: Nightingale was a true Catholic plot, with ties between Spain and France, aimed at depriving Elizabeth of her throne and setting Mary Stuart free.
