Page 36 of An Honorable Deception
Dizziness swamped her, and it was no fault of the injuries. Not directly, anyway. She clung to his arm. “They—of course they thought I was dead. Why would they think otherwise?”
“The vicar reported finding no body. So they’re a bit stymied. They linked the two in their conversation, though.”
Her throat felt dry and tight. It was no secret that the Rheamses despised each other. It was one of the most vitriolic matches in recent history, made for political gain but seemingly regretted by both parties. She didn’t imagine Mr. Rheams would regret the loss of his young wife, which was sad on a whole different level. But why would he be speaking ofherattack in the same breath as Victoria’s? How would he even know about it?
The implications weren’t encouraging. He must have something to do with it. With both. But why? For a member of the aristocracy to risk such a thing ... there must be more at stake than Alethia challenging him about Saanvi. “With whom was he speaking?” She looked up into his profile, searching it for information rather than cataloging the cut of his jaw. Mostly. “Who were these other men?”
When he glanced down at her, his gaze was sober. “Vernon and Dunne.”
A lord, family of lords. Would they really have murdered her, murdered Victoria? It was unthinkable.
Except that lords did the unthinkable all the time.
“They mentioned a chap called Courtney?”
“Courtney.” She turned the name over in her mind. Out of context she never would have placed it, butincontext... “He’s a handyman for the Ayahs’ Home, though by no means full time. I’ve heard them mention needing to call him in to fix one thing or another.”
“Have you seen him? Would you have recognized him had he been the one to come into the church the other day?”
“Perhaps? There are several faces and names I haven’t paired up. I would likely recognize him as being a worker at Mare Street without knowing exactly who he was.” And there was often a fellow about who she always shied away from, one with a hard look in his eye. She’d seen him carrying tools, so he could well be Courtney.
Lord Fairfax nodded. “Mr. A reported that they were speaking of another charity too—the Empire House. Do you know of it?”
The stables seemed no closer than they’d been at the start, despite how Fairfax kept her moving forward at a slow but steady pace. “A bit. I know their work overlaps somewhat with the Home, but they help women from across the empire, not only India. I sent them a note when I didn’t find Samira where I expected. I received a reply before I left to meet Mr. A, saying they had never heard of her, but that if I wanted to support their work, I could send a donation to...” She trailed off with a small smile. “I think my mother supports them already. She sends something to dozens of places in London that aim to keep women and children off the street.”
“Good of her.” His gaze had settled onherprofile now, and it felt too intense for her to turn to face it. “Your mother ought to be home by now, to have read your note. Did you want to send her anything else? Did you want her to visit?”
Bring her mother here, right to her, when those men were no doubt lurking about, waiting for news of her death to be delivered to her unsuspecting family? She shook her head. “Too dangerous. Don’t you think?”
“Openly, yes. But I hear Mr. A has his ways of moving people about without them being noticed.”
This Mr. A fellow was apparently the best contact she’d ever had the sense to make. She rather regretted that she could remember nothing of their interview. Had she even paid him yet? She’d taken money with her, hadn’t she?
As to the question ... “Perhaps I’ll write to her, if it can be delivered secretly. And she could forward a reply somewhere roundabout?”
His grin pulled her gaze up as if by magnetic force. “We can achieve roundabout. No worries there.” The arm around her waist gave her a minute squeeze. “We’ll keep you—and your family—safe, my lady. At whatever cost.”
The cost was the part she feared. “What really happened to your leg? Last spring?”
He started a bit at the question, frowned, and looked over his shoulder toward the house. “Lavinia’s mother stabbed me when I got in the way of her plans. She’d found her pistol again in the next moment, and she would have shot me had Lavinia not rushed in.Sheprotectedme, not the other way round.”
She felt her brows knit. “And why did her response concern you earlier?”
“Because she didn’t correct my joke. She did last week, in London, but not today. I don’t know why she’s regressed.”
Alethia’s fault—she didn’t doubt it for a second. Their conversations over the last few days had been wonderful in one respect, but noteasy. “She’s told me quite a bit about it all—that’s probably why. Talking to me has made it fresh again. Torn off the scab.”
Rather than filling with relief, his eyes revealed confusion. “Forgive me, but I can’t fathom that she’s opened up to you so quickly. Not that you’re untrustworthy, please don’t think I mean that. But Lavinia...”
“Her heart is fragile—emotionally, if not still physically. She has to protect it.”
His expression melted into a crooked smile. “Ah. Now I understand. Or rather, you do. That explains it.”
A cacophony erupted in the stables, making her jump—roars, hoots, bird cries, and perhaps the whinny of one horse that sounded more like acknowledgment than alarm. “The menagerie, I take it?”
“Other than Spot, anyway. Hector has him out mowing the lawn.”
“Spot?”
