Page 65 of A Daring Pursuit

An ominous shiver pebbled her skin, but she couldn’t afford to let that stop her. There might never be another opportunity.

She slipped out the door.

In the short amount of time it took from the four flights above, she was hit with a battering, chilled wind. Her hair was whipped free of its confinement and sent pins flying. A black,roiling mass of clouds looked close enough to touch and gave a feel of early evening despite the noon hour. She glanced down at the apple-green frock and scowled. It was a blasted beacon. She hadn’t even sense enough to snatch a wrap to ward off the ocean’s cold, damp assault.

Geneva glanced up and grimaced. She hadn’t much time before hell’s wrath let loose from the violent swarms overhead. She stepped off the small, concrete stoop and ran for the edge of the trees, hoping her memory wouldn’t fail her and that she was gauging correctly where the dagger had flown from the trees.

Just inside the tree line, she found a clear sign of her suspicions and gasped. Large, visible footprints obviously belonging to a man, at least through her inexperienced eyes. She was not a tracker. She was a Londoner. A woman born and bred in one of the world’s largest cities. She lowered to her knees, Abra’s beautiful frock forgotten.

The footprints were deep and fresh. She followed them where they led toward the cliff. Another few neared the path down to the water—

“Well, well, well.”

Geneva spun around. “You.” She pointed at the man with a trembling hand that mirrored the tremors in her knees.

He took a step toward her.

She stepped back.

They both moved in a dance that left her perilously aware of the drop behind her.

*

Noah entered Sander’sand Verda’s comfortable sitting room, heading to the fire and rubbing his cold, bloodless hands together. “Here I am, properly summoned,” he said by way of greeting.

Neither returned his smile.

“We need to talk,” Sander said.

Noah’s abdomen tightened at the ominous words. And Uncle Sander not even suggesting Aunt Verda leave them be did not bode well. Stilling, he faced his uncle, his body quivering with a surge of indignation. “I’m no longer a child of ten, sir.”

Sander sauntered over and held out a tumbler of brandy. “No. You’re not. I would never offer a ten-year-old the best of Pender’s spirits.”

The tension from his neck subsided and Noah accepted the offer. He sipped despite the early hour of the day, giving him half a minute to organize his thoughts. “I take it this inquisition is not out of concern of another turret failing,” he said, going for a lightness that belied his inner turmoil.

“Only if you have need to warn us of such,” Sander shot back.

“Mmm.” He strolled to one of the wing-backed chairs and dropped down. “I’m listening.”

Verda stirred from the settee where she was sitting. “We require the truth behind Julius’s birth, Noah. How did he come to be in your care?” The gentleness of her voice sliced through his heart with the point of a fire-forged dagger and there was nothing gentle about a thrust to one’s chest.

He threw back the rest of the brandy and willed it to burn away the pain… thefear. “Mama had been confined to her chambers, but not her screams,” he said softly. “I didn’t know what was wrong. Just that I wasn’t allowed to see her.”

Silence filled the room in which Noah had always taken refuge, a room that no longer felt safe. Glass clinked and he looked down to see that Sander had refilled it.

“‘It was a dark and stormy night.’” Inside, he wanted to laugh at the irony of Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s overdramatic opening ofPaul Clifford, but a jaw encased in stone—porous stone—could shatter with enough pressure. “I heard thepandemonium in the vestibule and peeked through a crack in the door.” The frigid air from that night seemed to pierce his skin. “There was a basket on Father’s arm. I didn’t notice it at first. I started to back away, but he called me ‘Noah.’” He stopped and caught the unspoken question on Verda’s face. “He typically referred to me as ‘boy.’ Frankly, I would have said he didn’t know my name.”

“The basket?” Sander asked.

“I thought he’d brought me a puppy.”

“Instead, he gave you an infant,” she said in bitter disgust.

“Yes. And, of course, the babe was nameless.” Noah decided it was best not to mention anything about Father giving Noah leave to drop Julius in the pond. Such a revelation would serve no purpose and would only hurt Julius if he ever learned of it. “Father handed Julius to me and said Mama was having a baby and he wanted everyone to believe that baby and Julius were born at the same time.”

“Good God,” Sander breathed.

“The last thing I remember is that he said was that this was to beoursecret.” Noah let out a long stream of air. “He’d never trusted me with anything before. And, well, that was a stunner.”

---