by Ava Stone
His lordship gestured to a hack not far away, and a moment later, the conveyance stopped before them.
“Where to, gov’nor?” the swarthy looking driver asked from his box.
Lord Healeyfield’s dark gaze turned to Mina and she felt it in the marrow of her bones. Heavens, a girl could lose herself in that gaze. “Tell him where we’re going, my dear,” he directed.
“The, um—” she cleared her throat, turning her attention from Lord Healeyfield to the driver “—that is, the One-eyed Hag. A pub in White Chapel.”
“One-eyed Hag?” the viscount muttered under his breath. “Bit ironic.”
“Aye, I know the place.” The driver nodded, then glanced, slightly disbelievingly, from Lord Healeyfield to Mina and then back. “The two o’ ye want to go into White Chapel?”
Mina nodded quickly, most anxious to be on their way. After all, when she saw Madam Derbardi again, she could press the fortuneteller for more information about her true love, something more than what the old woman had told her thus far.
“We’re looking for someone,” Lord Healeyfield replied as he opened the hack door and gestured for Mina to precede him into the conveyance.
She climbed inside the hired coach and settled against the squabs, folding her hands in her lap. Lord Healeyfield was right behind her and assumed the spot across from Mina as the hack lurched slightly forwards. His eyes locked with hers and she was lost in his depths once more. How unfortunate it was that he had both of his eyes. She was quite certain, in that moment, it would be rather easy to fall in love with him.
Heavens, she needed to keep her wits about her. He was so very handsome, though. And sitting this close to him and with his pointed attention focused solely on her, Mina could barely think, she could barely breathe. She really should think of something to say, something to keep her mind off the fact that she was supposed to marry the man across from her, something that would keep her from deciding to do that very thing and ruin her chance for her intended future.
“The One-Eyed Hag? You didn’t find that odd?” he asked, a slight smile on his lips.
Mina shook her head. “Oh, well, she’s not in the pub. Her shop is down the alleyway from the One-eyed Hag, but it’s not too far away.”
He nodded, though said nothing else, and then an awkward silence settled upon them. Oh, Mina hated an awkward silence. She experienced them so frequently, and she was always quite certain the other person was thinking something fairly unflattering about her. That Lord Healeyfield should think something unflattering was a bit like a dagger to her heart. So she searched her mind for something to say and her previous musings popped into her head once more.
“Are you afraid your coachman would tell Papa where we’re going?” she asked.
“My coachman?” He frowned, eyeing her as though she had two noses.
Perfect. He’d gone from thinking unflattering things about her to now frowning. Mina shouldn’t have said anything after all. She should have just let the silence engulf them. But she had spoken and now he was expecting an answer, so she quickly explained, “I mean Peggy and I took a hack to White Chapel so Papa wouldn’t find out where we’d gone. Do you think your coachman would tell him where we went?”
An amused smile replaced his frown, which did lift her heart a bit. “Ah, well, I don’t have a coachman, Miss Throssell; but if I did, I would expect his loyalty in all things.”
He didn’t have a coachman? Mina couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I beg your pardon?” After all, every gentleman she knew had a coachman, not that she knew all that many, but that was beside the point at the moment. “You don’t have a coachman?”
Lord Healeyfield sat forwards on his bench. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned so close to Mina that his sandalwood shaving lotion enveloped her senses. “You are owed the truth, Miss Throssell,” he began, his baritone voice washing over her. “And I would rather you hear it from me than someone else.”
“The truth?” she echoed, unable to tear her gaze away from his. What was this about?
He nodded slightly. “You see, I don’t own a coach, nor do I employ a coachman.”
He didn’t own a coach? But with his position, certainly…
“I’m the youngest son of a vicar,” he explained. “I have nothing to my name save my commission, my newly bestowed title and a dilapidated abbey. Beyond that, I’m afraid I am quite penniless.”
“Penniless?” She blinked. Whatever she expected him to say, it wasn’t that. Of course, his financial state was none of her concern. Still, she was sad to hear it just the same. A man as dashing and brave as Lord Healeyfield shouldn’t have such worries, not after his dutiful service to England for so many years.
“I’m afraid so.”
“You have a dilapidated abbey?” she asked softly.
The viscount nodded. “Healeyfield Abbey, in County Durham. Actually, I was quite proud of it when I first rode up the drive.”
He even sounded proud now, but there was something in his tone, something that sounded slightly off. “What’s wrong with it? I mean… how is it dilapidated?”
“How shall I count the ways?” A mirthless laugh escaped him. “It’s in desperate need of a new roof. The foundation is sound, stone and brick. But the inside isn’t livable. Every room will need to be stripped, gutted and cleaned from top to bottom.”
Mina cocked her head to the one side and smiled at the viscount. The idea of his abbey did seem distressing, but not completely daunting.
“Most heiresses might consider me a fortune hunter,” he continued, his brow unhappily furrowed.
How could anyone think him a fortune hunter? He hardly seemed the sort, after all. Besides, didn’t fortune hunters hide the fact that they were hunting fortunes? Lord Healeyfield was quite honest about his circumstances. “One would think there were brownies in County Durham that would be of assistance,” she offered helpfully.
“Brownies?” He scowled.
Of course, she’d nearly forgotten who she was speaking to. Lord Healeyfield had been quite adamant in the inexistence of fairies or sprites, hadn’t he? “Brownies are small creatures who live in houses and other dwellings. They fix and repair things that need to be fixed. You’ll never see them. They work at night, but are quite industrious, so long as you don’t offend them.”
A slightly amused expression settled on his face. “And how might one go about offending a brownie, Miss Throssell?”
“Well, by paying them, of course. I wonder if the previous owners tried to pay your brownies and that’s why they’re not being of service these days.”
“I hardly think brownies are the answer to my problem. Healeyfield Abbey requires funds, not the help of mystical creatures.”
Mystical creatures. He was most stubborn.
“I’m afraid I need a fortune, Miss Throssell.”
And all at once, everything started to make sense to Mina. “That’s why you want to meet Madam Derbardi,” she breathed out. The fortuneteller could very well give him an insight into his financial woes.
“That’s why I want to…?” He tilted his head to the side as though to better see her. “No, Miss Throssell, I have no need to see your Madam Derbardi other than to find out about this one-eyed fellow of yours.”
“Oh,” she breathed out. That was kind of him, then. He barely knew her, after all. He needn’t worry himself on her account, not considering he had troubles of his own.
His brow furrowed once more. “I didn’t want you to think that I agreed to our betrothal because of your fortune—”
Is that what he’d meant? Heavens, that thought hadn’t even occurred to Mina. Besides, her fortune wasn’t all that vast, at least she didn’t think it was. She never gave Papa’s money any thought at all, honestly.
“—I had agreed, of course,” he continued, “in Belgium, before I had need of a fortune, when it was unlikely the colonel would survive his injuries.”
Mina’s stomach twisted a bit. She’d ne
ver forget when Aunt Irene called Mina into her private parlor to tell her of Papa’s injuries. She’d spent most of her life without him, but she remembered him from when she was younger, she remembered the joyful twinkle in his eyes whenever she stumbled into his tent looking for a hug or a bedtime story. The thought that she would never see him again, that her only living parent might perish before his time had filled her with overwhelming dread. “You were with him in Belgium?”
Lord Healeyfield nodded. “His only thoughts were of you, of securing your future, ensuring your safety.”
Indeed? Was that possibly true? Papa didn’t seem concerned in the least about her happiness and that twinkle in his eyes that he’d once sported was long gone. “And he trusted that to you?” she asked softly.
“I was happy to ease his worries,” he assured her.
But shouldn’t Lord Healeyfield have had concern for his own wants and needs? Why should he care more for Papa’s worries than his own? “Certainly you had plans for your own future.” Plans that didn’t include some girl he’d never met.
A mirthless laugh escaped the viscount. “Not at the time, my dear. Every thought I’d had up to that point involved my men, each battlefield we faced, and one war strategy or another. I hadn’t considered what I would do once the war came to an end.”
And yet it had been nearly a year since Waterloo. He had to have considered his future since then. “And now?”
“And now?” His frown deepened.
“I know that men don’t regard me highly, my lord. I know I can’t be the sort of woman you thought you’d marry in the end.” He truly should be relieved she needed to cry off, relieved not to have his future tied to hers.
Lord Healeyfield laughed once again. “I’ve never met a woman like you before. That is true.”
Of course not. Mina’s heart dropped even though that was foolish. He wasn’t for her and she wasn’t for him. What did it matter that she wasn’t what he wanted?
“But you’re enchanting,” he continued. “Maddening at times, I’ll grant you, but you are enchanting, Miss Throssell.”
Enchanting. He thought her enchanting. Mina’s heart fluttered just a bit, even though she shouldn’t let it.
“I can only imagine that our life together would be one surprise after another.”
Mina grinned and some imp on her shoulder made her ask, “And do you like surprises, my lord?”
Not usually. Nathaniel preferred to know what he was up against, the enemy’s numbers, location, their strengths or weaknesses. But where Miss Throssell was concerned, he imagined she’d keep him on his toes, that life would never be boring with her, even if he didn’t understand her half the time. Sprites. Fairies. Brownies.
Where his mind went left, hers seemed to go right. He’d tried to explain about his financial state, he’d wanted to alleviate any concern she might have about him being a fortune hunter, concerns any other girl would have in her position. But she didn’t seem disturbed about that possibility in the least, instead her mind leapt to the answer that he wanted to meet her fortuneteller to assist him in regard to his financial state. Her lack of cynicism was rather refreshing. She was, in so many ways, quite the breath of fresh air.
Unfortunately, she made the perfect target for some unscrupulous thief in the guise of a helpful mystic. The One-eyed Hag. How had she not considered the fact that Madam Derbardi, or whatever her real name was, hadn’t come up with the one-eyed fellow Miss Throssell was to marry, simply because she walked past the One-eyed Hag every day and the words were stuck in her head? Nathaniel was certain the authorities would jump to the same conclusion he had and that Madam Derbardi was but a hairsbreadth away from finding herself in a dank and crowded cell in Newgate. Taking advantage of unsuspecting, naïve ladies was not something that was excusable, not to his way of thinking, in any event.
“My lord?” Miss Throssell touched his knee, sending a jolt of desire straight to his groin.
Nathaniel’s eyes locked with her anxious gaze. And his heart lodged in his throat. Had any woman ever looked at him with such genuine concern before?
“Are you all right?” she asked, her honest sincerity lacing her words.
“Of course,” he smiled tightly.
Her brow lifted slightly in disbelief. “I suppose you don’t like surprises, then?”
She had asked him that, hadn’t she? Nathaniel shook his head. “I suppose it depends on the surprise. A good one is always welcome, wouldn’t you think?”
Before she could reply, the hack came to a stop. Nathaniel glanced out the window and instantly spotted the One-eyed Hag. What once had been golden letters above the pub’s door had long since faded into a dull brown.
“Here we are,” he said, opening the carriage door.
After exiting the conveyance, he offered his hand to Miss Throssell. Heat warmed him at the touch of her delicate hand in his as he drew her from the carriage. Her light eyes locked with his and his heart actually squeezed in his chest.
“Flower for the lady?” a little voice said from somewhere behind them.
Nathaniel glanced behind him to find the dirtiest, most unkempt little street urchin he’d seen since he’d left the war-torn continent.
Miss Throssell stepped around him and leaned down towards the filthy child. “Aren’t you sweet?” she asked softly.
The lad lifted up a droopy daisy for her inspection. “Flower, mum?”
Her pretty face lit up and then she reached into her pelisse. She handed the lad a few golden coins and said, “It’s all I have.”
All she had. The daisy wasn’t worth a shilling, let alone the small fortune she’d just bestowed upon the lad.
“Thank ye,” the urchin replied quickly, handing the daisy to Miss Throssell before bolting down the street, most likely to count his new treasure before she could change her mind.
Nathaniel sighed. “You do know that flower isn’t worth half of whatever you just gave him.”
She laughed slightly. “The daisy represents innocence, you know?” She twirled the flower in her fingers. “Besides, those coins will do him more good than they’ll do me.”
And right then and there, Nathaniel decided he’d do whatever it took to make her abandon any search for phantom one-eyed men. Mina Throssell was unlike any woman he’d ever met. She was a most lovely sight. But beyond that, she was genuinely sweet and he doubted a more honest girl existed in all of England. Despite his previous worries, he could envision a life with her, even if he didn’t understand in the least how her mind worked.
He must have been staring quite pointedly at her, because a sudden blush stained her cheeks and she glanced back down at the daisy in her hands. Nathaniel couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride in having elicited such a reaction in her. She wasn’t indifferent to him, which was a stroke of luck. Hopefully, he could convince her to accept his suit as easily as he’d made her blush.
“Miss Throssell,” he began.
But she turned her attention towards the alleyway and a most disconcerting expression settled on her face.
“Are you all right, Miss Throssell?” he asked, stepping closer to her. Had something happened? Had she seen something?
Miss Throssell shook her head, still looking past Nathaniel. “This is the place,” she professed, looking more than distraught. “You have to believe me.”
What did all of that mean? Nathaniel turned to see whatever it was that had Miss Throssell in such despair, but didn’t see anything that would make her panic, well nothing other than the squalor conditions of White Chapel, but she’d seen that before. “What is it?” he asked.
She shook her head even more fervently. “She was there. Right there!” she gestured toward the alley behind the One-eyed Hag. “There was a door and her name hung over it and…”
“You’re sure this is the right place?” he asked, even though she’d just vowed that it was. But there wasn’t a sign and most definitely no door down the alleyway. Just a brick wall at the ver
y end.
“Yes!” she nearly wailed, rushing down the alley as though a door would magically materialize before her eyes.
Oh, blast it all! She couldn’t run off in White Chapel of all the damned places. “Wait!” he called after her, following quickly on her heels.
She stopped at the end, and reached out to touch the bricks with her fingers. “There was a door here, my lord. There was. Peggy was with me. You can ask her. There was a door right here, and above it was Madam Derbardi’s name.”
Nathaniel wasn’t certain what to think. While, he could certainly believe the thieving fortuneteller had run off in the dead of night, the woman would have left an empty space where she’d once been. She wouldn’t have bricked up the entrance to her former storefront. Besides that, the bricks before them were hardly new. They’d been here quite some time. Miss Throssell had to be mistaken. There wasn’t another answer that made sense. Well, he supposed she might have dreamt the whole thing up. Then again, she did know the name of the pub. She couldn’t have dreamt that, could she? “Maybe we could ask someone in the One-eyed Hag,” he suggested.
Miss Throssell said nothing, she just stared silently at the bricks right before her.
Nathaniel heaved a sigh as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Come along, my dear. I’ll inquire inside the pub.”
She glanced back over her shoulder at him and he could see unshed tears in her eyes, the sight tugging on his heart. “You don’t believe me,” she whispered.
He shrugged slightly. “There’s no door here, Miss Throssell,” he said, stating the obvious.
“But there was,” she insisted.
“All the more reason to talk to someone in the One-eyed Hag,” he soothed. “They might know where your fortuneteller went.”
For the longest while she stood there, as though trying to make sense of the situation. Then finally, she nodded in agreement, apparently resigned to the fact that there was nothing else they could do. “Very well.”
Nathaniel smiled, hoping to put her a bit at ease, glad she’d agreed to his plan. “You wait in the hack for me, and I’ll find out about your Madam Derbardi,” he said as he led her back toward the street. “I promise we’ll find her.” And have the hag thrown into Newgate if it was the last thing Nathaniel did.