Page 70 of A Dark and Stormy Knight
What he’d done.
What if his admission repulsed and terrified her? What if she told? She’d have the final secret. One that could rip his entire life to shreds and dump him right back into the gutter.
If he didn’t hang for it.
“One night…the Vicar took me in and gave me a place to stay when I had none,” he explained lamely, vaulting over the most important parts. “He was the one who nudged me to reinvent myself through documents I’d receive when joining Her Majesty’s Regiment. And upon my return from war, he handed me the paper wherein there was an advertisement for men of my physical build and prowess to wear the uniform of the London Metropolitan Police.” He sent her what he hoped was an unconvincing smile. “The rest, as they say, is history.”
“That was truly wonderful of him,” she murmured, extrapolating what she could from his vague memoir. “And so you repay him for his kindness with a monthly stipend?”
Morley seized upon the opportunity to distract her from the entire conversation.
“I give him the entirety of my salary as Chief Inspector,” he revealed.
She visibly blanched, her mouth falling open as she gaped at him as if he’d ripped off his skin to reveal a demon. “But…but…how do you…?” Good breeding caused her to shy away from conversations about money. To know a man’s work, even one’s husband, might be considered vulgar. He pinpointed the moment she made peace with that vulgarity.
“I always wondered how you, even on a Chief Inspector’s salary, could afford such a lofty address,” she said. “Even my father has mentioned his government pay wouldn’t cover food for our horses, let alone our houses. He’s always implied our money comes from his land and shipping company.”
His lips compressed ruefully. He was still looking into where exactly her father’s wealth came from.
“Then…what about you, husband?” It was her turn to stare out the window. “If you were raised in these gutters and went straight from the army to the police, then how did you amass enough of a fortune to speak for me, without a need for my dowry? Dare I ask if you are a thief still? If the money you pay to the church is penance?”
“Actually,” he said, becoming rather amused. “I suppose I did thieve a bit when making my fortune.”
She did her best not to look appalled, and almost pulled it off. “You didn’t!”
“Don’t fret, I only stole information.”
She leaned forward as if entranced. “Tell me.”
“Once I was back from the army, I would be asked to go to exhibitions by my former regimental officers so they could place bets on me.”
“What sort of exhibitions?”
“Shooting ones, mostly.”
“Shooting ones? Why?”
He gave her the short answer. “Because I was a rifleman in corps.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits as she tilted her delicate chin in assessment. “You must have been a rather incredible rifleman if you were asked to compete in exhibitions.”
“Tolerably good.”
“Oh come now, you’d have to be more than tolerable if they—”
“They called meDeadeye. It doesn’t matter.” He felt his neck heating again as he rushed past to avoid her comments or questions. “At one such event, I overheard my Captain discussing an investment scheme with an American by the name of Elijah Wolfe, a ruthless and unscrupulous miner who was drumming up funds to reopen his dying town’s defunct iron mines. He was able to find no support whatsoever and I could smell his desperation. But despite all that, there was something about him…”
“Did you save a grateful noble from being fleeced by this unscrupulous American Wolfe?” she guessed.
He emitted a low sound of amusement. “I gave Eli everything I’d won on the exhibitions for a ten percent share. It was barely enough to keep his mine open for a month, let alone pay the workers.”
Her eyes went round as saucers. “You made your fortune in iron?”
“No,” he said wryly. “The mine is still defunct, as it only took a month to exhaust it. However, another mineral often resides where iron is found. A great deal less of it, worth a great deal more.”
“Really?” she asked. “What is that?”
He caught her hand and gently squeezed the tip of her glove from the long middle finger, sliding the garment from her creamy skin. Holding up her knuckles, he kissed the ring on her finger.
