William rubbed the back of his neck. Was there any way to distract her? “Explain myself? Does it occur to you that you’re in an attorney’s office, alone, in the dark?” He grinned and looked her up and down. “Well, not alone anymore.”
Her eyes grew as narrowed as her lips. She took up the page and shoved it in front of his face. “Explain this.”
No, there would be no distracting her. William grimaced. “It’s a list.” He plucked the page from her fingers and placed it behind him.
“I can see it’s a list. What is it a list of?” She put a hand to her head. “If you say names, I shall retrieve another pin and stab you.”
“The marquess has bid me marry. He had Lethbridge draw up a list of suitable candidates.”
She paled, hand dropping. “I see. So, all your talk of watching me from afar, that was a lie.”
“It most certainly was not. No man could help but admire your beauty.”
“And your talk of not truly being a rake, not carrying on with your mistress. Lies.” She’d gone so cold as to appear emotionless.
“Nothing I’ve said to you is a lie. I omitted my reason for pursuing you now, at this time. That doesn’t mean I don’t esteem you. The timing has nothing to do with my feelings for you.”
A thread of desperation snaked through him. Now that he knew her, Lady Lanora was the only possible choice. He couldn’t let her refuse him. Even his daydreams of Darington’s daughter waned in comparison to the reality of Lanora. He would not select another name. No other would ever do.
“Of all the names on that list, yours is the only one that ever interested me. I swear.”
She was so pale, even her lips lacked color. “And if my name did not appear on that list, would you have pursued me?”
He went still. How could he answer that? She was the one woman he’d avoided above all others.
“I read your answer in your face, my lord. I think we are done here.”
She turned on her heels, regal even in her dowdy garb. She was walking away from him. Leaving. William felt a surge of panic. He blinked rapidly, confused by such a foreign emotion.
“Stop.” That single word, harsher and louder than he intended, stood alone in the space between them. She turned back. His heart started beating again.
“Why?” She folded her arms across her chest.
She’s hurt, he realized. The pain of betrayal shown in her green eyes. If she was hurt, she must care for him. “Because I love you.” The words, pulled from him in desperation, rang exultantly true.
Her mouth dropped open. She stared at him for a lifetime. William locked his gaze with hers, willing her to see the truth of his declaration.
“You… What did you say?” she asked, the question breathless.
Three long strides brought him to her. “I love you, Lanora. I didn’t mean to. I picked your name off the list because of your father, I admit that. Because he knows Darington, and that interested me.” With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up toward his. “I won’t lie. If I don’t marry by the marquess’s deadline, he will sign his fortune over to my sister, a girl of sixteen. I can’t let that happen. Not for my sake, but for hers, and that of so many others. I have plans for the marquess’s money. The shelter Darington is funding is only the start. I want to help people, Lanora.”
“The shelter for women?” She looked dazed. “Lethbridge took the money. I overheard him, but I couldn’t find anything. No letters from Darington, at all.” She shook her head, taking a half step back. “You’re using me to secure your father’s fortune? I suppose you wouldn’t mind having mine as well.”
“No.” He closed the distance between them again. “That isn’t the way of it.”
She kept shaking her head. “I don’t believe you. You’re a rake.”
Never had William regretted his reputation more. “I’m not. I swear. I can prove it.” He could. He would. “I correspond with Darington. He’s one of two people in this world who knows who I really am.” Revealing Cecelia was not his right. He wouldn’t put her in danger, even if it broke his heart. “I’ll bring you his letters. You’ll see what sort of man he finds me to be. Surely, you’d take his word? He’s your father’s partner.”
“No. Perhaps.” She looked up at him, features taut with despair. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“Believe this.” He covered her lips with his, needing to feel the heat they’d shared in the park, to rekindle it.
Her response was instant. Her lips pliant, soft. He crushed her to him, ignoring the pain that shot out from his side. She wrapped her arms about his neck. He raked his fingers through her hair, sent the remaining pins flying. Dark locks tumbled free. He buried a hand in their silkiness and cupped her neck, pressing her closer.
She slid her palms down his chest, then between them. A sudden push, one hand braced over the bandages she didn’t know were there. William stumbled back. Pain at the loss of her proximity and esteem mixed with the physical agony her shove woke in his side.
“No.” Her breath came in ragged gasps. “I won’t…you can’t kiss me. You don’t love me and we will never marry.” She turned and ran.
William started after her, grimacing in pain. He shook his head, unsure which hurt more, her declaration or the bullet wound.
Lanora disappeared through the door at the base of the stairs as he started down. On the street, she ran to the end. William gritted his teeth, lengthening his stride. Each step jarred the gunshot wound. Pain stabbed through him. He followed her around a corner, watched her climb into a hired hackney. It pulled away.
He retreated back around the corner and leaned against the wall. She would get home safe. The drivers in the area were respectable.
“You need help, your lordship?” a piping voice asked.
William looked down to find Dodger, face smudged with dirt. “You followed me from Chastity’s?”
“A sight better than that other bloke. Don’t worry, you lost him a ways back.” The boy crinkled his face in thought. “Is Chastity your pretty lady friend who lives in the house? You never did say her name, which isn’t good manners, your lordship.”
William closed his eyes. He hoped he hadn’t errored in trusting Dodger with the location of Cecelia’s home. “Yes, and you’re never to speak of her. To anyone. Her life is forfeit should she be found.”
“Who’d hurt a pretty lady like that? She was like an angel, all lovely like and kind. She gave me food, you know, after we was done stitching you up. You’re Lord William Greydrake, aren’t you, lordship?”
William sighed. He pushed himself off the wall and started back toward Lethbridge’s. Dodger trotted along beside him. Lethbridge’s office needed to be put right. William doubted there was any point to searching for Darington’s letters about the home for women. Lanora’s words, coupled with the remnants he recalled seeing in the grate, made finding them unlikely.
“I won’t tell anyone you’re Lefthook, lordship. Not a soul,” Dodger said as they climbed the steps back to Lethbridge’s office. “You can count on me.”
William looked about the room, eyes drawn to the strewn hairpins. Through the second door, he could see closed curtains, his candle stubs burned low. The slightly wrinkled page still lay on the desk, silently accusing. His evening had not gone as planned.
“I believe I can count on you, Dodger. Would you help me complete a few tasks here before we lock up? I don’t mean to harp on my good deed, but I daresay chasing after a lady wasn’t the best kind of wound treatment.”
“Right away, your lordship.” The boy didn’t move, but watched him.
“What is it, Dodger? You can ask. I won’t be angry.”
Dodger looked about the room. “It’s just, that lady who ran out, she looked a lot like Mrs. Smith. We all like her. You like her. You said she’s a good sort.”
“That’s true.” If only she liked him, life would be perfect.
“She ran off awful upset, looking a sight.” Dodger looke
d down. “You didn’t, that is, you didn’t hurt Mrs. Smith in any way, did you, your lordship?” The boy looked up, eyes wide. “Only, I’ll still keep your secrets, I swear it, but I won’t be helping you if you hurt that lady.”
William smiled, though the expression felt pained. Dodger was a good sort, too. “I did no physical harm to the lady. I’m afraid I may have done some to her heart, though, and mine.”
Dodger looked confused. “Her heart? Like, love and such?”
“Exactly like love and such. You see, I love the lady. I believe she may care for me, but, at the moment, she’s very cross with me.”
Dodger made a vague gesture around the room. “Them’s a lot of hairpins for a broken heart, your lordship.”
William chuckled, then winced. “Yes, well, we may have kissed, but I assure you, that was all. I would never harm that lady. I mean to marry her.”
“You intend to marry the Widow Smith?”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but yes, I mean to. If she’ll have me.”
“If you say so, lordship.” Dodger shook his head, looking doubtful.
“Will you help me?”
“Yes, your lordship. I don’t think you’re the type would hurt a lady, anyhow. I wouldn’t have asked had she not looked so distressed.”
William nodded. “You’re a good lad, Dodger.”
With the boy’s help, he set to work.
Chapter Fourteen
Lanora took the steps of the servant’s staircase two at a time. Tears burned her eyes. She couldn’t tell if they were of anger or fatigue. They weren’t from sorrow, for she’d lost nothing in William’s betrayal. She’d known from the start he was a rake and not the man she would wed. No man was. She would live like her aunt. The people she and her father watched over would simply have to hope their new lords were worthy when Lanora ended their branch of the Solworth line, childless.
She managed to gain the security of her room before tears fell in earnest. Collapsing on her bed, she let them well forth with bitter sobs. She didn’t want to die childless. She wanted William’s son. A lively, mischievous boy who would be nearly more trouble than he was worth, but with the heart of an angel. She wanted William’s arms about her. His kiss. The security of his love.
She slammed a fist down on the coverlet. She would never have that security. He’d selected her name from a list. She hadn’t even been at the top. An afterthought, near the end. She hated that page, with its coldly drawn up list of only the wealthiest, most desirable young women. She hated William’s signature, so bold at the bottom, but smudged as if written by someone who used their left hand. His signature was like the rest of him, perfection artfully disarrayed.
“Lanora.” Grace burst into the room.
Lanora lifted her head, taking in her friend’s red-rimmed eyes.
Grace rushed to her and pulled her into a hug. “Where have you been? I’ve been beside myself with worry. This is all my fault, for letting you go off alone. What happened?”
Lanora drew in a long, shuddering breath, hugging Grace back. “Nothing. Nothing really. Does my aunt know I was missing?”
Grace let go, holding Lanora at arm’s length to look her over. “Nothing? Your hair is a mess. Your gown is wrinkled. You’re crying.” Grace’s eyes flew wide. Her face drained of color. “My God. Your hair, your gown…Lanora, you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” She blinked several times, trying to clear her thoughts.
“You’ve gone and let your virtue go.” Grace heaved a sob. “Oh no. Oh, this is not good.”
“What? I most certainly have not.” Lanora looked down at her dress, creased from her time hiding under the desk. She pushed at her hair, though there was little hope of achieving any order. The few remaining pins fell out. “Grace, listen to me. I didn’t give up anything. Don’t cry so.”
Grace grabbed her arm and pulled her across the room. She shoved Lanora in front of her mirror. “Look at you.”
She did look awful. She could understand Grace’s fear. “Honestly, I haven’t given up my virtue.”
“Then where have you been? What happened? I told your aunt you’re too ill to go out. She didn’t say anything, but even the dogs looked suspicious. I know they could tell I was lying.”
“I can explain.” Letting out a sigh, Lanora returned to the bed and settled on the edge. “I didn’t tell you, but I kissed Lord William when we were in the park. Once.” She offered a glare. “Which was your idea, if you’ll recall.” She paused, organizing her thoughts. “Then, when he didn’t come to the theater as he said he would, I was…angry.”
Grace was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “You kissed him? How could you not tell me? So, it was a good kiss? You must have learned you care for him, or you wouldn’t have been so out of sorts this morning.”
“I do not care for him.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“You will as well, once you hear all.” Lanora looked down. Grace was not going to like the next part. “After handing out bread this morning, I went to spy on Lord William, at his mistress’s house. I wanted to confront him when he came out.”
“Lanora.” That single word held a wealth of disappointment.
“He never came out. Nor did she. Someone else was watching for him too, though, just as Joseph reported. When the man watching the house left, I decided to try to learn who else cared where Lord William went.”
Grace stood with her hands on her hips, glaring. Lanora realized her days of going out alone as Mrs. Smith were over. From the look on Grace’s face, it would take all of Lanora’s persuasiveness to keep her aunt from being informed of her behavior.
“The man went to an attorney. I followed him in and eavesdropped.”
Grace threw up her hands. Her tears were dry now, scorched away by her anger. “Lanora.”
Lanora winced. “It gets worse. I had to hide under a desk, so I wouldn’t be seen. That’s how I ended up locked in the attorney’s office. I was trapped.”
“By all that’s holy, Lanora.”
“I know, it was bad, but I did learn a lot.” Bitterness laced her tone.
“Let me have a bath drawn up in your dressing room and you can tell me what you learned. We have to get you cleaned up.”
“I can help.”
“You cannot.” Grace’s expression turned to one of alarm. “No one saw you come in looking like this, did they? None of the others?”
Lanora shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Let’s pray not.” Grace pivoted and hurried from the room.
Lanora organized her thoughts while Grace worked in the adjoining room, readying a tub. Lanora could hear other members of the staff come and go, some asking after her health in soft tones. Grace’s relief sounded real when she told them Lanora would be well soon. Lanora hadn’t meant to distress Grace so, and for what? Though she’d told Grace she’d learned a lot, what had she really learned? One thing, at least, that was important. The attorney Mr. Darington used, the one her father hadn’t wished to employ, had stolen the funds for the women’s home. There was no other way to put it. He’d appropriated them and then lost them, somehow.
She’d found no written evidence of that, however. No records of Darington at the attorney’s, at all. There was one more place to look, though. A strongbox hidden in the wall, behind a painting hung over the mantel. Lanora suspected Lethbridge had selected the dullest landscape he could find so the painting would garner little attention. The strongbox behind it was the only part of the office that had resisted her search, for search she had. She’d plenty of time, after all, locked in for hours.
She knew she could get into the strongbox if she brought her lock pics. She was quite skilled at picking locks, for all she hadn’t been able to fashion the right tools by bending her hairpins. She used to practice the skill for hours. In her child’s mind, Egyptian treasure was sealed in chests, like pirate gold, and once she’d convinced her father to take her wit
h him on his expeditions, she would have shown him her talent. That childish fancy would serve her well now. If she was going to bring Lethbridge to justice and see the home for women finished, she would need to go back and look in that strongbox.
Lanora rose and slowly began to undress. Grace was correct, her garments were uncommonly wrinkled. Lanora was sure Grace would wash them herself. It wouldn’t do for the others to suspect that Lanora had done anything compromising, for even loyal servants gossiped. Lanora paused. What could Lord William possibly have been doing in Lethbridge’s office in the middle of the night? She’d heard him at the door. She would wager her father’s fortune he’d picked the lock. Had he learned that skill in Egypt? To her dismay, her father assured her Egyptians used much more elaborate mechanisms.
How didn’t matter as much as why, though. Why was Lord William there? What was he looking for at the attorney’s? Perhaps the list? Although she had no idea why he might worry it would be circulated, it was certainly incriminating. He could have gone there to secure it. She wished he’d done so before she set eyes on it.
Lanora stop undressing, then crossed to the fire and stirred it up to ward off the chill in her room. No, she didn’t wish he’d hidden the list. It was good she’d seen it. She couldn’t live in a dream world, because one always woke up. Better the pain in her heart now than waking up to find herself married to Lord William, while he spent Lanora’s fortune on his mistress.
She frowned, tugging free her laces. It was all so odd, though. Lethbridge having Lord William followed. His mysterious mistress no one ever saw. His claims that his father was making him marry. His father making him pretend to be someone he was not, a cold, cruel, ruthless, cad of a man. Could she believe any of it?
Well, she believed the part about being ordered to marry. That explained how she’d become mixed up in Lord William’s life. Watched her from afar, indeed. How had she ever considered believing that?
Lanora let out a sigh, stepping from the ring of clothing at her feet. She’d started to believe it because she wished to. He was handsome. Warm. So convincing. It would be terribly nice to have a man like the one he pretended to be love her as he pretended to love her.
The Archaeologist's Daughter (Regency Rendezvous Book 3) Page 11
