Page 58 of Rakes & Reticules
Jaw unhinged, Lady Huxley gaped before erupting into an ear-scorching string of foul oaths that would’ve made a seasoned sailor blush.
“Well done, you.” Fletcher clapped Chandler on the shoulder as another man seized the viscountess’s arm. “You almost convinced me you were abetting her. I think a substantial raise is in order, my friend.”
What?
It had all been an act?
Siobhan looked between them, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
Chandler wasn’t a traitor?
Pain sluiced Siobhan’s heart as the unmitigated truth hit her.
A scream of denial tried to throttle up her throat, but she swallowed it.
Fletcher hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her this part of his scheme.
What if this madcap plan had gone wrong?
They might’ve been shot at any moment.
Her hurt swiftly became scorching anger.
It was one thing to jeopardize his life and hers, but Paddy’s and Kimber’s?
Such fury heated her blood that she fisted her hands to keep from slugging him.
How dare he?
Fletcher didn’t trust her as much as she did him, and that knowledge stung—no, it gutted her.
It was good that Siobhan hadn’t declared herself to Fletcher and had no idea how he felt about her. It didn’t matter now. She might love him, but the last few minutes made it abundantly clear love was insufficient. Love and trust were opposite sides of the same coin. A healthy, thriving relationship required both.
“I confess I grew a bit apprehensive for a spell, sir.” Chandler swiped his forearm across his moist forehead. “And don’t ever ask me to hit you again. I shall refuse. I nearly gave myself away more than once.”
Was the private conversation Chandler insisted on having with Fletcher all those days ago related to what had just occurred?
How long had Chandler and Fletcher been in cahoots?
“Siobhan, may I introduce my cousin, Torrian Westbrook?” Fletcher indicated the man holding Lady Huxley’s arm as the viscountess squirmed and swore. “He’s a private detective. Torrian, this is Siobhan Kenney, the bravest woman I know.”
Brave but not trustworthy.
“Miss Kenney.” Torrian dipped his strong chin. “I’ve had news of your parents.”
Siobhan froze, afraid to hear more.
Fletcher drew his eyebrows together. “Now isn’t the time, Torrian.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you, Cousin. But I’ve learned they will be deported to Australia on a convict ship in three days. They were accused of stealing a toff’s purse and have been rotting in Newgate Prison all this time. Interestingly, their accuser is also Irish.”
“They would never have stolen anything.” Siobhan knew her father and stepmother. They were not thieves. “Da fled Ireland and wouldn’t tell me why. I bet this man who has falsely accused him is the reason.”
And she’d bet he was the same unwelcome brute who’d called at their house those times in Ireland. She darted glance toward the door. “I must go to them. Take them food. Clothing. Medicine.”
Fletcher touched her forearm. “Do not fret. I shall have essentials sent to them tonight, and Torrian and I shall visit the prison tomorrow.”
“I am coming with you.” Nothing could stop her.
