Darkness glittered in his gaze that made her breath catch. Was he recalling the same? Looking at her lips with the same desire?
“After last night, I would have thought nothing could scare you.”
“I’m not scared of your mother. I simply thought it best I give you some time with her.”
“I think my mother is unlikely to want to see me for the rest of the day.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry to create problems for you.”
He shook his head. “I knew full well bringing you into my home had the potential for scandal, though I think we have avoided it thus far unless my mother decides to tell her friends—which I very much doubt. I do, however, regret her treatment of you, and certainly the idea that I might have scandalized you. I suppose I never considered the impact it might have upon you, and for that, I am sorry.”
A smile she could not resist slid across her lips. “I hardly think it’s possible to scandalize a Romani girl. Besides, we are meant to be married, are we not? There is nothing left to scandalize. In fact, I think your mother rather handled it well. I might have expected her to drag me out by my hair.”
He chuckled. “My mother has her moments but she’s a good woman really. Just a little old-fashioned and determined to keep our good name as pure as possible.”
“I forget how important names are to rich people.”
“They are the most important thing of all,” he told her, his smile wry. “We must do everything in our power to protect them. Of course, my mother forgets that my grandfather was a rake of the highest regard and somehow survived and my Uncle Felix was embroiled in political scandal some three summers ago and that had been swept aside nicely. A young, unmarried woman under my roof is the least scandalous thing to happen to us in years.”
She laughed. “Well, I suppose I do not feel so bad then.”
“Good.” He offered her his arm. “Now, I have a trip to town to make. Will you do the honor of accompanying me?”
“I will.” She took his arm. “How did you know I would be here?”
He considered this for a moment. “In spite of all this talk of being a free-spirited Romani, I thought you would return to where you know.”
“You know me too well, it seems.”
“Apparently so.”
Orelia peered up at him. His features were silhouetted against the bright morning sun, his nose strong and his lips near irresistible. It felt as though he really did know her well, and she him. It was hard to recall a time when he was not in her life. What had it been like not to be able to talk or laugh, or even touch this man?
“I have the carriage waiting ahead,” he told her.
“That explains how you caught up to me so quickly.”
“You need not have run, you know.”
“I was not running,” she protested.
“If you say so.” He aided her over the sty and the old trap, now fixed, awaited them. Reed gave her a hand up and she settled onto the hard bench.
“I hope we shall not run into any more disasters today. I’ve had enough excitement.”
“None at all, I assure you,” he said as he flicked the reins. “I had the stable master give it a good look over and as worn as it looks, it shall survive this journey quite well. I won’t make that mistake a second time, even if it did give me a chance to see how devious you are.”
“Devious?” she declared, affecting her most innocent look.
“Very well, quick-thinking, then.”
She smiled broadly. “That’s better.”
They carried on at a gentle pace down the lane. The day started cool but dry and the clouds vanished altogether leaving it bright. A few bees buzzed about the hedges, searching for something sweet to settle upon. Rapeseed filled one field, covering it in a bright yellow blanket. It was funny how she had never stopped to admire the setting in which her family set up camp.
“Why did Noah not join us for breakfast?” she asked.
“He likes to avoid Mother.”
“She is stern, I’m sure, but she loves you, does she not? Even I could tell that she was angry because of love.”
His brow furrowed. “An odd thought, being angry because of love.”
“Love is the strongest of emotions, is it not? And so anger and love go hand in hand.”
He glanced her way, his smile soft. “You are so very wise, Orelia.”
“I hardly think so.”
“I do. Some learning cannot come from books. Heck, I’ve met some of the smartest men at Oxford and they were utterly clueless about the world. You have experience. It counts for a lot.”
She snorted. “Not in a world where a woman is preferred to be naive and inexperienced.”
“Well, not everyone thinks like that. In my field, experience is highly valued, as are quick-wits. You have both in abundance.
Would he ever stop making her blush? She could not recall a time when she had blushed so much or heard so many complimentary words.
“Is your mother angry at Noah?” She peered at him.
“Not at all. She loves him very much. Too much perhaps.”
“How so?”
“She wants to protect him,” Reed explained. “He had a tough time when he was a boy, adjusting to not being able to hear. It took him a long time to be able to read lips and many people treated him as though he was a fool. I was nine when he lost his hearing and fully able to see my mother’s heartache when people treated him poorly.”
“So she fears people will treat him the same as they did when he was a boy?”
He nodded. “She is trying to protect him but that frustrates us both.”
“I suppose I can understand why she would wish to protect him. It must be nice to have a mother who wishes to protect you.”
He frowned slightly. “I suppose so. Despite all her flaws, she always loved us. Lord knows, we have enough flaws ourselves.”
“No one is without them.”
“I am sorry if I seem ungrateful for my mother. I know your experience is far worse.”
Orelia shrugged. “You cannot compare experiences. What seems devastating to one person can be wholly manageable for another.”
“And it seems I have a philosopher for a companion too.”
Orelia fell silent. She had little idea what he meant by that but did not wish to ask. How foolish she would look.
He must have noticed her confusion. “A philosopher is...”
“I know what it is,” she snapped. “We spoke of it before, if you recall.”
They fell into silence after that. She sincerely regretted snapping at him. Reed would never mean to be condescending. Look how wonderfully he treated her when he discovered she could not read. He still managed to make her feel helpful and wanted. Goodness, why was she acting this way? First running off, then speaking to him so disrespectfully.
“We’ll leave the cart here,” he said, motioning to a traveler’s inn.
She nodded and waiting for Reed to arrange the stabling for the horses while they continued on foot. They came to the same ramshackle building as their last visit to see it looking as empty as before. Reed rapped on the door several times and they waited.
“Do you think this is our man?” she asked.
“It could well be, though how he had the coin or the resources to buy such wine, I do not know.” He slammed the door knocker hard again, and the whole building seemed to rattle. “I cannot imagine what he has to gain from killing Napoleon but maybe he is but a pawn in this game. Either way, we need to find him. He is our only suspect.”
They waited for a while longer and she cast her gaze up the three-story building with its flaking paint and grimy windows. There was no sign of movement anywhere. “What shall we do?”
“We could wait. See if anyone turns up,” he suggested.
“We could be waiting all day, if not more.”
“We could indeed.” He grinned. “You might think being a secret operative for your country is all excitement but let me a
ssure you, I have become an excellent waiter in the process.”
“As well as an excellent sneaker,” she said, her lips tilted into a grin.
“That too.” He peered through the lower window. “I may have to put such skills to good use.”
“Oi!”
Orelia whirled to the sound of the shout to see an elderly woman with her head thrust out of a top window of the building next to their suspect’s.
“Get outta here!” the woman bellowed.
Reed lifted his gaze to her and squinted. “Good day, my dear woman. Forgive us if we disturbed you.”
“Well you did, making all that racket.”
“My apologies. I was hoping to stop by and see an old friend, but it seems he is not home.”
She paused and wrinkled her nose. “Thomas?”
“Yes.”
The woman made a dismissive noise. “He don’t live here no more.”
Reed swung a look at Orelia. “Ah, that is a shame. Pray tell, do you know where he is?”
“No, and why should I? I’m glad he’s gone. He was always drinking, muttering about the war. Lord knows, everyone is grateful for his service but there’s no need to go disturbing your neighbors about it. The war belongs in France not on bloody English soil.”
“Of course,” Reed agreed. “Tell me, where would Thomas go drinking? I should very much like to see him again. We served together you see, and I owe him a debt of gratitude.”
The old woman pursed her lips. “Were you involved in that battle too? The one that left Thomas with the limp?”
Reed nodded. “That’s the one.”
The woman paused and leaned a little farther out of the window. “Try the Red Lion on Braggs Lane. A lot of the soldiers spend time there. The inn doesn’t much care about the amount their patrons drink, more’s the pity.” She shook her head. “War is hell they say but living next to a drunk isn’t much fun.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Reed said sympathetically. “Thank you for your help, ma’am. We shan’t disturb you any longer.”
Orelia had to hide a triumphant grin. Perhaps they would find this man at the inn. If he was drunk, he might even talk about what he’d done. Already, she could see how they might garner information. She could pretend to be lost and charm him perhaps. Find out where he lived now. Or Reed could—
“She’s gone,” he declared. “I think I shall have a look around.”
Orelia frowned. “Is there any need? We know where we can find him.”
“I think so.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “I think you just like to sneak.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps.”
Reed glanced over the building and made his way down the basement steps. Orelia followed. Pressing his fingers against the edge of the cracked window frame, he eased it open. She winced when a crack sounded.
“Be careful,” she hissed.
“Always,” he said with a far too handsome grin.
He opened the small window and lifted himself up to ease in. Orelia glanced around, her heart racing hard against her ribs.
A dark-haired man slipped from between the houses and paused when he saw her. Her heart beat harder. As he approached, she tried to smile but it felt shaky. There was something sinister in his appearance. Perhaps it was the black top hat or the long length of his wiry body, dressed far too beautifully for this area. They both looked at each other, somehow aware neither of them should be there.
He took several steps toward her, forcing her to back up against the building. She could only issue a small squeak sound as she found herself looking up into dark glittering eyes.
“You need to go from here and never come back,” he said in accented English.
She might be uneducated, but she had travelled enough to know he was French. The enemy still, by all accounts. Her throat grew as arid as a drought-ridden field.
“Stop looking for Thomas Moore,” he hissed. He latched a hand around her throat and she squeaked again. “Do you understand?”
She nodded frantically.
The hand tore from her throat unexpectedly. Reed barreled into the man and they toppled to the floor. They tussled for several moments, both men swinging before the Frenchman scrabbled to his feet and scarpered. His once pristine clothing was covered with dust and dirt.
Reed rose, dusted himself off and hastened over to her. “Are you well?”
“Yes, fine,” she said breathlessly.
“What did he want with you?”
“He warned me away. Said not to follow Thomas.”
Reed frowned and lifted her chin to eye her neck. “No marks,” he murmured.
“I do not think he intended to hurt me. At least, not this time.”
He cursed under his breath. “I should not have left you alone.”
“You could not have known that would happen.” She clasped her hands together when she realized they were shaking.
Reed glanced down and took them in his hands. The warmth of his touch soothed away a little of the horror she had hardly realized she felt.
“Why would he wish us to stop searching?” he mused. “We must be close.”
“He was French, I’m sure of it.”
He nodded. “We must be close then. Perhaps someone on the French side wished old Boney dead. What better way to do it than pay a feckless English drunk to do it for you?”
“You think they hoped the English would get the blame?”
“Perhaps they even hoped to trigger another war. There would be those who don’t want peace between our countries.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “Goodness, Reed, do you not think you should ask for more help?”
A dark brow lifted. “Do you doubt my ability to handle this?”
“Never, but this seems to be becoming more involved by the day.”
“I will keep you safe, Orelia, I promise. I won’t leave you alone again.”
She smiled at this. He would, of course, one day, but she knew what he meant and was touched by his protectiveness.
“So what do we do now?” she asked.
“The old woman said Thomas was injured in the war. We can find out about his service history from the army.” He glanced around the street, checking for any more frightening Frenchmen, she assumed. “We had better return home. I shall send a missive to London right away, requesting information. With any luck, we shall have our man within the next few days.”
“And what shall we do until then?”
“Why” —he grinned— “enjoy some quality time with my mother of course.”
Orelia stared at him. She couldn’t tell if he was jesting or not. He chuckled, and she tapped his arm. “You are a tease, Your Grace.”
“I’m merely getting revenge for all the times you have teased me.”
“I have never teased you,” she declared.
“Oh you have, Orelia. Teased and taunted me.”
He said the last part so seriously that it was all she could think on as they made their way home. What did he mean by that?
Chapter Twenty
Orelia eyed the austere building and gnawed on her bottom lip. Reed paused by the entranceway of the hospital, glancing back at her.
“What’s wrong?”
She gave herself a mental shake and stepped forward. “I have never set foot in a hospital.” She shrugged. “My people do not trust outsiders to look after our health.”
“With any luck, we shall not have to stay long.” Reed tugged out a letter from his jacket and glanced it over. “According to the army records, Thomas was discharged several months ago but if he was still having problems with his health, this is where he would come.”
The stench of sickness pervaded the air of the voluntary hospital. Orelia wrinkled her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth. Romani women would be scandalized if they visited such places—so she had little idea what they were like. From the looks of the people lining up and down the corridor, they were no better than expected.
“Do you think anyone will tell us anything?” Orelia murmured to Reed.
He gave her a winning smile and approached one of the nurses. Orelia resisted the desire to roll her eyes. Dressed elegantly, she had no doubt Reed was prepared to charm whoever he needed to find out what they needed to know.
She made the mistake of breathing in through her nose and nearly had a coughing fit. When she compared her life to that of these people, it almost seemed blessed. Certainly they had struggled through tough times and were often starving. The Romani still suffered the diseases these people did but at least they had their own to care for them. It seemed to her these people had nothing and no one if they were forced to turn for help here.
The nurse visibly colored when she spotted Reed. “C-can I help you, sir?”
“I hope so.” There was that charming smile again. “I was looking for information on a certain patient.”
The nurse gave them both a wary look. “I am not certain—”
“My cousin here very much likes to take on a charitable role.” He motioned to Orelia who managed to keep her expression natural. She really wished he’d tell her what he intended to do before he did it, though.
“I see,” the nurse said, confusion marring her face.
“And she was helping a man who we believe was a patient here but unfortunately she has lost contact with him,” Reed continued. “It is my hope that you might be able to point us in the right direction so my cousin can continue aiding the poor man. And perhaps then I might be able to offer some…help here.”
“Ah.” The nurse peered around. “Please follow me.” She marched across the room and led them to a smaller room filled with leather bound books. “We keep minimal records but if your, um, friend was here, we will have recorded his entry into the hospital and when he left. Do you know when he was admitted?”
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