A Secret Surrender, page 14
“It’s fine, Selina.” He laughed softly at her fussing. “You must have been a very good wife.”
Pink stained her cheeks, and she abruptly turned and left, making him wonder if he’d said something wrong. Perhaps she still missed her husband.
She returned a few minutes later with a cloth and a bowl of water. She handed him the former and set down the latter on the table near the window. He joined her there and dipped his hand into the water.
“Thank you.” He glanced over at her as he cleaned the soot away. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Not at all.”
“It’s all right if you miss your husband.”
She shook her head. “That’s not it. I—I don’t really know. This is rather domestic.” The pink returned to her cheeks, but lighter this time.
He could see what she meant. He could easily envision him performing this sort of task for her if they shared a home. If they were married.
And he didn’t dislike the notion at all. He suddenly understood her discomfort. This was not what they wanted—according to both of them. Despite that, they were both affected.
Harry dried his hand and did his best to wipe the soot from his sleeve. He set the towel in the basin when he finished. “Thank you.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Thank you.”
“I’m happy to perform any task you require.” He fixed his gaze on her. “Any task.”
“That is good to know.”
Heat and longing seemed to gather between them. If he stayed another moment, he wasn’t sure what might happen. Best to hasten his departure. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Harry picked up his hat and gloves on his way out. It was time to banish the hermit.
Chapter 10
You must have been a very good wife.
Harry’s words rang in her ears long after he departed. Just as his kiss was still imprinted on her lips.
Harry. She could hardly think of him as Mr. Sheffield after the way they’d kissed.
She went to pick up the basin and towel. Looking at the objects he’d used to clean up and thinking of his assistance eliminated an invisible barrier—or so it seemed to her. She brought the towel and brought it to her face, inhaling the barest fragrance of his masculine scent.
“What are you doing?”
Dropping the towel into the basin, Selina spun around to see Beatrix standing just inside the doorway. “Tidying up after Mr. Sheffield. He unstuck the flue.”
Beatrix went to the fireplace. “Wonderful! How helpful of him.”
Indeed. The entire episode had shown Selina a future she couldn’t quite comprehend: a happy domesticity that didn’t seem at all right for a woman who’d once been a thief in London’s East End. And who continued to commit criminal acts, even if she had begun to completely loathe them.
“Yes, he was pleased to provide assistance,” Selina said.
“Is that all he provided?”
“I’m not sure what you’re hinting at, but yes. Would you do me a favor and take this to the kitchen?” Selina handed her the basin with the towel and hoped Beatrix would forget about whatever she was hoping to discover.
“Certainly.” Beatrix took the items and left the sitting room.
Selina exhaled with relief. She couldn’t tell her about the kiss, not when it had been incredibly foolish considering how committed Harry was to uncovering the truth about Madame Sybila’s activities. His visit to the perfumery earlier had shown her just how much. It seemed all the tension—his irritation with the fortune-teller and her frustration at being trapped in a cage of her own making—that had built during their interview in Madame Sybila’s closet could no longer be contained. Or perhaps that was only how it felt to her. Most likely, since he had no idea she was Madame Sybila.
His appearance at The Ardent Rose had surprised her, at least a little. She’d expected him to return at some point, but not this soon. His anger and frustration with her—with Madame Sybila—had been palpable. He hated that he’d been foiled or that his assumptions had been wrong.
Only they weren’t. She was every bit the fraud he thought her to be. There was no charity. And she’d stacked those three bloody cards before he’d come in, with the intention of drawing them in just that way if the conversation had turned contentious.
And it had.
Though it could be so much worse. He’d asked to see her without the veil. She nearly cracked a smile in the mirror. But it wasn’t amusing. If he ever found out she was Madame Sybila, she wasn’t sure what he would do.
The agitation she felt intensified. Because he would find out. He would continue his investigation until he saw beneath the veil. He was still focused on a four-year-old fire, for heaven’s sake!
The revelation that he’d lost someone—a woman—had surprised her completely. That explained his inability to let it go, his determination to bring the Vicar, whom he had been certain was guilty, to justice, and maybe it also explained his solitary life. She’d hit a nerve with the Hermit card, more than she’d anticipated.
She needed a new plan. She couldn’t continue as Madame Sybila, not with Harry’s methods of investigation. He’d probably visit Finch Lane tomorrow, if he hadn’t already, and while Selina had taken precautions, she couldn’t afford to pay everyone to do her bidding. Plus, Harry was damned good at what he did.
Furthermore, she hated lying to him.
She had to find another way to earn money so they could make it through the Season.
Beatrix swept back into the sitting room. “You haven’t moved an inch. What’s the matter?”
“Just thinking.” Selina waved her hand and went to sit on the settee.
Beatrix joined her there. “Dinner smells atrocious.”
Selina winced. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”
“You’re an expert liar, but even you can’t believe that,” Beatrix said on a laugh. “Can’t we afford someone better?”
“It isn’t that,” Selina said. “We need people we can trust, and Mrs. Vining and Martha are friends of Mrs. Kinnon. Also, no, we can’t.”
Beatrix frowned at the fireplace. “We don’t need a ladies’ maid. We’ve been taking care of each other for years. Forever, really.”
“I know, but we pay them very little, and their presence gives us credibility. Besides, not everything is inedible.”
Beatrix narrowed her eyes. “Mrs. Vining doesn’t make the cheese.”
Selina laughed. She was shocked that she had that in her at this particular moment. Beatrix smiled in return.
Turning so she could look at Beatrix, Selina took a deep breath. “What is the plan when you reveal yourself to your father?”
“He’ll be overjoyed to have me back in his life, of course, and will provide me with an allowance, upon which we can comfortably live.” They both knew that might not happen. “If he doesn’t acknowledge me, even privately, I’ll rob him blind,” Beatrix said, addressing the unspoken. “Either way, we’ll be secure.”
Selina nearly laughed again. “I’ve no doubt you could do exactly that.” Standing, she smoothed the gauze overlay of her gown. “We need a new plan. I can’t continue as Madame Sybila much longer. Harry—Sheffield—is relentless.”
Understanding bloomed in Beatrix’s face. “‘Harry’? You kissed him, didn’t you? That’s why you’re acting funny.”
“That hardly matters.” Selina wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t just confirm what Beatrix had guessed, but surmised it was because of the unsettling emotions she felt toward him. She was normally quite good at keeping such things buried. That she couldn’t seem to do that with Harry was beyond troublesome.
Selina continued. “As I was saying, I can’t continue as Madame Sybila. I could go back to the East End and change my disguise and name, but we won’t earn enough to support your Season.”
Beatrix fixed her with a steady stare. “We have other options. If you’ll let me.”
“Trix, if you get caught—”
“I won’t.”
“You were once.”
Beatrix scowled. “And it worked out fine. Someday, you’ll stop bringing that up. I hope.” She relaxed her features. “I won’t get caught. Will you let me do this? It’s my bloody Season anyway. I should pay for it.”
Selina wanted to say no. She wanted them to stop all of it entirely. Unfortunately, that was impossible. “Stick to jewelry only. That’s easiest to fence and garners the most money.”
“What about actual money?”
Selina half smiled. “I will never say no to that. That’s the simplest to make use of.”
“I can start tonight,” Beatrix, said, referring to the rout they planned to attend.
“Don’t take any unnecessary risks.” Selina hated asking her to take any risk at all, particularly since she hoped to make a life in London.
“Meaning, don’t pick pockets. Don’t worry, I’ll steal from the house.” Beatrix gave her a reassuring nod. “Now, what about Harry?”
“Don’t pester me about him.” Selina scrunched up her forehead. “There’s nothing between us. I’m merely keeping him close.”
“I meant, what are you going to do to keep him at bay. I should have been more specific.”
Selina resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Beatrix’s droll tone. “At Lady Aylesbury’s next meeting with Madame Sybila, the countess will suggest a visit to the Home for Wayward Children. Madame Sybila will agree, and hopefully, that will be the end of Sheffield’s investigation. If it is not, then Madame Sybila will be called away to care for a sick family member.” This was the manner in which Selina’s various fortune-teller identities left their situations.
“That sounds reasonable,” Beatrix said. “You still want me to move forward with our alternative plan tonight?”
An uneasiness crept over Selina, but she shrugged it away. “I think we must.”
A familiar gleam sparked in Beatrix’s eyes. She couldn’t help stealing things, so when she was able to do so on purpose, she felt…right. Selina hated asking her to do it. Surely it was better if she didn’t, and not just because of the risk.
She was being foolish. This was how they’d survived the last twelve years—swindling and stealing, doing whatever was required to ensure their safety and independence. That Selina had grown to find it distasteful didn’t change the necessity of it. She shook off the sensation of feeling trapped.
“You could indulge,” Beatrix said cautiously. “You deserve something—someone—diverting.”
In Selina’s estimation, people rarely got what they deserved.
After fetching Selina and her sister the following evening, Harry had been forced to ride to Spring Hollow on top of the coach with the coachman due to space. Harry jumped down upon their arrival and paid the entrance fee to the gardens for their entire party. When he finished, everyone had already departed the coach.
“Well, it’s not Vauxhall, but it’s still exciting,” Miss Whitford said with a smile as they approached the gate.
“Consider it a prelude to Vauxhall,” Rachel said. She had been delighted to come along this evening. Nathaniel seemed less enthused, but then this wasn’t the type of entertainment he typically enjoyed. He preferred a healthy debate over a good port. Nevertheless, he would do anything to please his wife, whom he adored.
All of Harry’s sisters had married well, finding love and even partnership. In some ways, that contributed to Harry’s reluctance to wed. He wouldn’t settle for less than that. Of course, his family would argue that he never gave anyone a chance to see if such a union was even possible. But maybe that would change. His gaze fell on Selina.
Her golden-brown hair was styled impeccably, with saucy curls framing her face. The elegant line of her jaw and high cheekbones seemed even more pronounced tonight, setting her apart from every other woman he’d known. Dressed in a light-blue evening gown trimmed in black with a silvery gauze overskirt, she looked almost ethereal, like something from a dream that he couldn’t actually touch. But he could touch her. He had touched her. And he intended to touch her again.
Harry moved to offer her and Miss Whitford his arms. “May I escort you both inside?”
“Yes, please,” Miss Whitford answered, sliding her hand around his arm.
Selina didn’t respond, but her eyes met his, and he saw an intensity that must surely be a reflection of what he was feeling. And what was that? Anticipation. Excitement. Desire.
They entered through the wide gate and followed the path to the main area were people milled about. The newly constructed supper boxes were on the left side and stood two stories. On the opposite side of the large open cobbled space was the covered orchestra. Music filled the air, and the dance floor—a clearly marked space near the orchestra—was more than half full.
Gaslights illuminated the entire area, but a handful of pathways led away from the main space into the gardens. Nathaniel instantly saw someone he knew and struck up a conversation. After exchanging pleasantries and introducing everyone, Rachel turned her attention to Miss Whitford. “Shall we investigate the refreshment area?” She tossed a glance toward Harry and then to Selina, making her intention clear. She had one goal this evening: to further the connection between Harry and Selina.
For once, Harry couldn’t fault her. He wanted the same thing, though not the same end result Rachel probably hoped for.
Miss Whitford’s face lit with enthusiasm. “Yes, let’s.” She linked arms with Rachel, and they left.
Harry turned his head to Selina. “Shall we promenade?”
“That seems to be what everyone wants.” She flashed him a smile. “More importantly, however, where are you to meet your informer?”
“I’m not entirely sure. He said to meet him at the bridge at nine o’clock.” Harry checked his pocket watch. “Let us find that.”
He asked a footman for directions, and they took the indicated path past ponds fed by the spring. The lighting was less here, providing a darker, seductive atmosphere.
“I apologize for my sister’s managing behavior,” he said. “As you know by now, it is my family’s fondest wish that I wed.”
“It’s quite nice that you have a family who wants the best for you.”
“Is marriage really the best, however? I thought our opinions on the matter were aligned.”
“They are, but I can still understand why they are trying to see you wed. They think it will bring you happiness because it has for them.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “I can also understand how frustrating it must be for you sometimes.”
“You said it seemed to be what everyone wants. Does that include your sister?” Because Harry had the distinct impression that unlike his family, Miss Whitford actually supported her sister’s wishes.
“My sister is very supportive of what I want. She is also supportive of indulgence.” She cast him a sidelong glance, her lids dipping seductively. When she looked at him like that, he nearly forgot his name and his purpose.
Harry’s pulse picked up speed as they reached the bridge. “I think perhaps our families see something between us.”
“What is that?” she asked when they crossed to the other side.
He steered her toward the edge of the path. “An attraction. That is what I feel. What do you feel?”
So far, the path was empty. Her hand moved on his arm, a caress. “The same.”
Clasping her hand, he faced her. He could make out her features in the dim light filtering from the main area—the lush bow shape of her lips, the dramatic sweep of her brows, the gentle, alluring slope of her nose. All of it had become so familiar to him. She had become familiar to him. He liked that more than he could say. “Yes, our intentions are aligned—neither of us is looking for marriage. But I wonder if we may be even more aligned in our desires.” He edged closer until they almost touched, his lips hovering a few inches from hers. “Would you consider having an affair with me?”
Her lips parted, but the only sound he heard was a loud shriek coming from the main area. She whipped her head around toward the noise, and he looked past her, hesitating only a moment before he gripped her hand more securely and dashed back over the bridge, back the way they’d come.
She went along with him wordlessly, and a few moments later, they arrived in the well-lit central square. A small crowd was gathered, indicating where the trouble had originated.
Harry let go of Selina’s hand and gave her a quick look. She nodded, and he broke through the crowd. “I work for Bow Street. What’s happened?”
People parted to make way for him until he reached a woman sobbing. “It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?” Harry asked gently.
A man stood at her side, his brow furrowed. “Her bracelet. I told her not to wear it.”
Harry frowned at the man. While the advice was good, now was not the time to remind the woman of a poor decision. Turning to the woman, Harry spoke in a soothing tone. “Perhaps it fell off while you were dancing?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t dancing. I was just standing here talking with people while we waited for the fireworks to begin.” She indicated another couple standing near the man, who was probably her husband.
“What does it look like?” Harry asked.
“It’s gold with rubies. My husband just gave it to me to celebrate the fifth year of our marriage.” She looked at the man beside her. “I’m so sorry.”
He patted her on the back. “It’s all right, dear.”
Harry addressed the crowd, speaking loudly. “Everyone back up. We’re looking for a bracelet. Please step out of the way.”
Selina came up behind him. “What are we looking for?”
He gave her the description, and they began to scour the cobblestones. While they looked, the fireworks started, flashing overhead and providing added illumination for their search. It didn’t matter, however, because after several fruitless minutes, he and Selina—and others who’d joined to help, including Nathaniel—had found nothing.
