"You're not?"
Blake stared at her in irritated confusion. What was her game? "Do you think I'm an idiot?" he spat out.
"No," she said. "I've just escaped from a den of idiots, so I'm well familiar with the breed, and you're something else entirely. I am, however, hoping you're not a terribly good shot." "I never miss."
She sighed. "Yes, I feared as much. You look the sort. I say, do you mind if I get back up?"
He moved the gun a fraction of an inch, just enough to remind her that he was aiming at her heart. "Actually, I find I prefer your position on the ground."
"I had a feeling you would," she muttered. "I don't suppose you're going to let me go on my way."
His answer was a bark of laughter. "I'm afraid not, my dear. Your spying days are over."
"My spying-my what?"
"The British government knows all about you and your treasonous plots, Miss Carlotta De Leon. I think you'll find we do not look kindly upon Spanish spies."
Her face was a perfect picture of disbelief. God, this woman was good. "The government knows about me?" she asked. "Wait a moment, about who?"
"Don't play dumb, Miss De Leon. Your intelligence is well-known bom here and on the continent."
"That's a very nice compliment, to be sure, but I'm afraid there has been a mistake."
"No mistake. I saw you leaving Prewitt Hall."
"Yes, of course, but-"
"In the dark," he continued, "with all the servants dismissed. You didn't realize we'd been watching the hall, did you?"
"No, no, of course I didn't," Caroline replied, blinking furiously. Someone had been watching the house? How had she not noticed? "For how long?"
"Two weeks."
That explained it. She'd been in Bath for the past fortnight, attending to Oliver's sickly maiden aunt. She'd only returned this afternoon.