Page 48 of The Lady and the Footballer
“No, but I believe they were bribes. Only, I don’t think they were for Pritchard.”
“Why not?”
“Because then he would have taken them with him, not have left them in his desk drawer. I think Lord Montgomery is bribing others within the club.”
“Players?”
“Perhaps.”
“No,” Colin said, shaking his head, unable to believe it. “We are the ones who are suffering from this. Rhys has to pay his own money toward player expenses. Joey was hurt. We’re the ones with our bodies and reputations on the line.”
“I never said it was players for certain, Colin,” she said, frustration tinging her words. “I only said itmightbe. It could be them or a multitude of others within the organization.”
“What if it is your father?”
That stopped her mouth and her feet, but she set her jaw before continuing on the path ahead.
“Then it is my father, and I will confront him. I want to find the truth, Colin. Is that not important to you?”
“Of course it is,” he said, placating her. “But sometimes right and wrong are not so easy to determine.”
She shot a look over her shoulder at him, one that he hadn’t seen from her before. She was usually much more mild-mannered and at ease.
He felt that his parting words to her the last time they had been together might have something to do with her current feelings toward him.
“Lily,” he said, reaching out and placing a hand on her arm. “Could we slow down? Talk about what happened?”
“I am uncertain of what you mean.”
“Between us. In Nottingham.”
“I would prefer not to speak about that.”
He sighed. He knew he had likely hurt her by kissing her and then rejecting her, which was the very reason he never should have allowed himself to touch her to begin with.
But it was too late for that now.
“Very well,” he said. “Do you know the way to the Montgomery Mill?”
“Yes.”
“We should have gone left back there.”
She stopped, turning to him, her hands on her hips.
“When were you going to tell me that?”
“When you gave me the chance.”
She pushed back the hood of her dark cloak and rubbed her forehead.
“I am making a mess of this,” she said, closing her eyes before placing her hands over her face. “I only want to help, but I’m rushing things. Not thinking clearly. Muddling things with you. I?—”
Colin stepped toward her, his large hands covering hers as he lifted them off her face and held them so that he could see into her eyes. “There is no mess,” he said softly. “We are just two people who do not know the right way forward yet find themselves drawn toward one another. Can we agree on that?”
Her eyes watered as she nodded. “Yes. I believe we can.”
“Good,” he said, moving her to the side of the road, which was rather desolate at this time of late evening. Only a few people were leaving a late shift at the mills and walking toward home, passing by them. “I missed seeing you this week.”
