Page 65 of To Treasure an Heiress
“Better make it the day after. I don’t want to have to rush and risk getting caught snooping. Sheridan is all the time in his room, hovering over his materials.”
She squinted through the rain, as if that would help her make sense of the words coming from behind the wall. Sheridan was scarcelyeverin his room.
And she was an idiot.
It wasn’t his employer who Ainsley was playing for a fool—it was his cousin. He was feeding him misinformation, and no doubt he’d report back to Sheridan what he’d said and promised, so they could devise what to tell him when he came again.
Well, that made sense, then. He wasn’t sacrificing anything, much less his own standards, for her.
For a moment, something akin to disappointment flooded her. But she banished it quickly. She didn’twantAinsley to compromise his morality for her. She’d have been disappointed in him if he had, especially when it would endanger them all.
She just wanted to mean something to him. To anyone. That was all.
“Fair enough. I’m supposed to check in with them again on Saturday, so that’ll be fine. But, Henry—make sure it’s all accurate orour families will be the ones to pay for it. These people ... they pay well, but they don’t mess around.”
“Understood.”
Was it? Because Senara’s throat went tight at those words. What was he doing? It was bad enough that all of them here were at risk, clashing with the Scofields outright. Why in the world would Ainsley put his own family in the cross fire, too, when he wasn’t even there to protect them?
The cousins said their farewells. Senara debated whether to try to dart away, but if one of them came back through the arch, he’d see her for sure. Better to wait here and trust that the rain would force them to keep their heads down and keep them from looking all around.
It was Ainsley who came back along this path. But hedidlook around, and he spotted her in about half a second. Quirked a brow. Stepped off the path to her side.
She didn’t know what she meant to say to him. Not until she opened her lips and the whisper tumbled out. “Why would you risk your mam for him?”
But Ainsley only smiled. “By the time Rory delivers the information I give him to the Scofields,” he whispered in return, “my mother and his, and his sister, too, will be on their way to France, under Sheridan’s protection.”
She wasn’t sure if it was relief she felt, knowing he wasn’t betraying them, or some second sort of twisted disappointment that he really was as good as he appeared. Which cast her in such sharp contrast.
His brows drew together, and he came half a step closer. “Miss Dawe ... what have I done? To offend you?”
And even better—here he was, clearly ready to apologize, when she was the one on whom all the blame rested. She shook her head. Stepped away from him, onto the path. “Nothing.”
“Senara.” He was at her side, pleading in his voice. As if it grieved him that she was upset. As if she mattered. “Clearly there’s something.You wouldn’t speak to me all day yesterday. Please—I only want to be a friend to you.”
That twisting, burning feeling clamped her in its teeth again. She came to a halt, looked up at him, and let it have its way with her words. “All those things your cousin said about me, the things he insinuated—they’re true.”
He blinked, but that was the only response he made.
The only one she waited around to see, anyway. In the next second, she darted away, down another path. If he tried to say anything more to her, the rain ate up his voice.
If only it could quench the fires still feasting on her soul.
One time, when they were children, Beth and Mabena had followed the boys into one of the sea caves without their knowing it. It had been a grand adventure—at first. But trying to stay out of sight meant that they put themselves in a rather risky position. The tide had turned, and the cave had begun to fill up, and while the boys scampered easily out, Beth and Benna had found themselves stuck, their escape route already flooded.
It was the first time she remembered the excitement of an adventure turning so drastically to terror. Seeing that dark water surge and crash on the rocks, knowing the waves would poundherinto them just as easily. Though usually Beth wasn’t one to scream and cry, she’d done it then. At the top of her lungs. And praise God, Oliver had heard her. He, Enyon, and Cador had come back and helped them escape.
But there was no Oliver here now, nor Enyon, nor even the despicable Cador Wearne, whom she’d sworn never to speak to again after he broke Mabena’s heart two years ago. She’d happily forgive him if his face appeared in the space above her now.
And the hole was filling. Not as quickly as a sea cave at high tide, but steadily. The water that had been an inch deep when she landed in this pit was two inches deep now, as the rain collected here fromthe runoff of the hill. It had seeped up under her coat, into her boots. She was soaked, and the shivers had already begun, despite the air temperature being summer-rain warm.
Father God, Lord of all, help me. Please, God. Help me.
She’d tried wriggling, praying the growing mud would give her enough room and lubrication to pull free, but without luck. All she’d managed to do was get wetter and muddier and make pain throb its way up her side.
Then the slab of granite had shifted—in the wrong direction. When it slipped that fraction of an inch closer to the ground, pinning her all the tighter, she’d gotten the message. No more wriggling.
Rain pounded on her coat, deafening in its threat. Fear pounded in her heart, numbing in its certainty.
