by Rebecca King
It irked Tahlia to have to follow orders. After all, she wasn’t one of his men, there to do whatever he wanted.
“It is for your own good,” Connor added.
“Ha!” Tahlia snorted. “What is for my own good is to leave this wretched place far behind, and the sooner the better.”
“You need to stay here for a while,” Barnaby replied firmly.
“Now that I have passed the message on to Mr Tate,” Tahlia hesitated. “Well, sort of, I am going to go through my uncle’s things and select which I wish to keep. The rest can remain in the house for now. As soon as I have seen the solicitor tomorrow, I am returning home where I belong. I am afraid all of these mysteries and shadows are a part of your line of work, not mine.”
“Tahlia,” Connor pleaded. “You can’t go and see the solicitor tomorrow.”
“Stop telling me what I can and cannot do,” she snapped. “I am a fully grown up adult.”
“Yes, but you are in London now,” Connor retorted flatly. “You are expected to adhere to etiquette, for your own safety if nothing else. It isn’t safe-”
“I know London, and its foibles,” Tahlia protested. “I was here three years ago when I was faced with their scorn, Connor. Believe me; I know just how harsh and cruel life in London can be. Today’s events have just confirmed to me that I am best to leave just as soon as I can arrange it.”
Isaac coughed uncomfortably when it was evident that a full scale argument was brewing. He and Barnaby looked at each other, but neither man was brave enough to challenge a woman when as angry as Tahlia was. Wisely, Barnaby and Isaac took their leave.
Connor stood up, but there was no trace of fury in the gaze he levelled on her, just concern. He wasn’t prepared to shy away from the issues they needed to discuss. He knew that if they had any chance of having a future together they had to clear the air over what had happened three years ago. It seemed like the best time to do that was now, when emotions were high and he was more likely to get to the truth.
“Did our being caught scar you that badly?” he asked quietly.
He watched her tense as she sought a way to answer him.
“I was cast out of society, Connor. What do you think?” she snapped.
Connor nodded. “I accept that I didn’t wait around afterward. I tried to see you later that night, but your uncle said to leave it; that you were too upset. Unfortunately, when I returned to my digs, orders were waiting for me. I had to return to Cornwall as a matter of urgency. My colleagues needed me to help with an important part of the investigation we were conducting at the time.”
While she accepted that his explanation was perfectly feasible, she wasn’t prepared to forgive him so easily.
“Why didn’t you call the following morning? I was still at the house.” Hurt suffused her, almost choking her with memories she struggled to suppress.
“I had to vacate my digs because I was told to. I had no address to leave you,” he argued.
In hindsight, he should have delayed leaving London until he had forced her uncle to one side and seen her personally. What he had done, however, was carry out his orders to the letter. The fact that he had left a very large part of himself behind in London was something that had haunted him each and every day since.
“It turns out that it was eighteen months before I was free to come back here,” Connor replied softly. “When I did return, I came straight here only to discover that you had moved away and weren’t ever expected to return to London.”
“Why did you leave like that? Why abandon me to face everyone alone?” she cried, oblivious to the tears on her cheeks. “I was ruined, Connor. Ruined. My reputation wasn’t tarnished; we were caught in flagrante delicto. I was the scandal of the year. Everybody was whispering about me. The least you could have done was stick around and face everybody with me.”
“I couldn’t be the centre of attention, Tahlia. I had to protect my identity because of the nature of my work,” Connor argued.
“Ha!” Tahlia spat. Her anger toward his callousness suddenly replaced her tears. “Your work. Your work. That is your excuse for everything. You were a scoundrel; a heartless cad. You used me and left London as soon as you realised people were talking about you. It is the weakest thing I have ever heard of.”
“Tahlia, it wasn’t like that,” Connor countered. “I was investigating into a gang of smugglers who were using a network of people in the ton to furnish spies with accommodation and contacts in London.”
Tahlia stared at him as she thought over the times he had sought her out. She had believed that he had been interested in her. All the time, he had been working.
“You danced with me, and talked to me, and paid me attention because you were there to investigate someone?”
A condemning silence settled over them.
“I have to be honest with you, Tahlia, not least because my conscience demands it. I did approach you because I needed a ruse while I watched someone who moved amongst your circles at that time.”
Her muffled sob struck him in the centre of his chest. He felt the worst kind of cad. He placed his hands upon her shoulders and tried to get her to turn around to face him. When she refused to budge, he remained where he was but stood so close to her that he was practically holding her, anyway.
“I quickly found myself ensnared, though. I spent far more time with you than I should have done. So much so, I am afraid, that the man I was there to watch disappeared from right under my nose. I was so captivated by you that for the first, and only time in an investigation, I forgot all about the reason I was there.”
When her shoulders remained rigid, he knew he wasn’t getting through to her and sighed.
“I should never have allowed matters to go as far as they did. It was wrong of me but, in my defence, I had no idea that I was about to be sent to Cornwall. I was weak and foolish and for that I apologise.”
Tahlia allowed the tears to fall, and refused the comfort he offered. It wasn’t fair for her to blame him completely and she knew it. She had to accept joint responsibility whether she liked it or not. At the time, neither of them had really discussed what they expected of each other. Neither had either of them really stopped to consider of the consequences, especially herself. She had only learned of one very serious consequence several weeks later.
Guilt weighed heavily on her conscience. She knew she should tell him, but then had a duty to protect Joseph. Connor had already said he did not have anything to offer her–what would he have to offer a child? Someone who needed security, comfort, and loving support the most didn’t need a parent who was never there and unable to provide any of those things.
She made a decision there and then that he should not find out about Joseph. As a mother, and parent, she would do whatever it took to protect her child from the hurt and heartbreak she herself had experienced, even if that meant keeping Joseph away from his own father. It felt awful to have to even think such a thing, and it was with heavy shoulders that she turned around and made her way toward the door.
“Tahlia,” Connor protested. He tried to stop her, but she shrugged him off.
“We cannot change events of the past. What is done is done. Raking it up again will solve nothing but resurrect things that are better left in the past.”
She said the words so calmly, so matter-of-factly that Connor didn’t doubt them. He was left in the silence of the room to ponder what he was supposed to do next. One thing was blatantly obvious; it was going to be difficult trying to persuade the woman he knew he loved to take another chance on him.
First, though, he had to find out who Joseph was and what he meant to her. The softness on her face whenever his name was mentioned annoyed the heck out of him.
CHAPTER TEN
Later that night, Connor slumped into a chair in the study and shifted his gaze to his boss when Barnaby let out a blistering curse.
“Bad news?” he murmured eyeing the broadsheet clutched in Barnaby’s hand. “Your na
g not won at the races again?”
“It’s the evening edition,” Barnaby snorted in disgust. He thrust the paper at Connor. “Take a look.”
Connor glanced at the headlines. His resultant curse was equally ferocious as Barnaby’s. Silence settled over them while Connor read the article Barnaby pointed to.
“Another set of jewels have been stolen from the home of Lord Jonah Fortescue, owner of Fortescue Gardens on Crombie Street, sometime during the night of the 4th and the morning of the 5th of the month.”
“Yesterday,” Connor sighed.
“Diamonds, rubies, and a sapphire broach reportedly worth a small fortune were taken,” Connor murmured. “They certainly do like their gems, don’t they?”
Barnaby nodded and studied the thoughtful expression on his colleague’s face.
“You seem pensive.”
Connor described the meeting with Mr Tate, and raised his suspicions about the man’s true identity. He also described the mysterious pouch of gems Henry was purportedly keeping safe for the Gem Society.
“Sounds suspicious,” Barnaby murmured. “Do we have a list of the gems that have been stolen so far?”
“I think Ambrose has it,” Connor studied his colleague’s frown. “I cannot see that Henry would be involved in the buying and selling of them.”
“It is a bit odd that a veritable horde of gems appears right in one of London’s most burgled times,” Barnaby mused. He read the objection in Connor’s eyes and sighed. “I am not saying that they are connected, but don’t discount it.”
Connor had to admit that his boss had a point. He knew not to ignore any possibility without evidence. “There is more.”
Connor explained what had happened with the muggings, and the strange jewels that had been delivered to Tahlia.
“Do you have them?”
Connor nodded. “Tahlia put them into the safe with the gems her uncle had supposedly gathered.”
“Where has this Tahlia been while she has been out of London?”
“Rutland,” Connor replied.
“Can this be confirmed?” Barnaby demanded.
“Relatively easily enough, I think,” he replied confidently.
Barnaby shook his head. “I can ask Toby to keep his ear to the ground and find out if someone new has been working the area, specifically searching for jewels.”
Connor grinned at the mention of the young lad whose pick-pocketing ways, and rather questionable contacts, had been employed by the Star Elite some time ago. Toby had proven a valuable source of information in fighting Sayers, and the older gang of thugs Sayers had working the area thieving and mugging. With the aid of his sidekick, Lucy, Toby had proven himself to be a valuable, if not somewhat unusual, member of the team.
“Tahlia got mugged twice in one day, and on the same day that both sets of jewels arrived,” Connor sighed.
“Maybe they realised they had made a mistake and wanted them back,” Barnaby suggested.
“If that is the case, why not burgle the house like they have done everywhere else where they see something they want?”
“True,” Barnaby nodded. “You have a point there my good friend.”
“Do you think it was Tate, or someone else?”
They both knew that Terrence Sayers’, and those working with him liked to use every ounce of subterfuge possible, and had no qualms about dressing up to play a part.
“I don’t know. Thankfully, Tahlia picked up that something was wrong with the man and didn’t give him the real message. As far as I can see, he shouldn’t be given it at all now, even if he turns out to be the real Mr Tate. Either way, I need to return to the Tate house. There is something bothering me about it, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.”
“Well, we can go together,” Barnaby replied.
When Connor lifted his brows, Barnaby shrugged.
“You need help,” he sighed. “Ben and Reg are here now. They can keep an eye on this place while we are gone. Besides, you look as though you could use some fresh air.”
“Don’t I just,” Connor replied fervently.
“Let’s face facts, Connor,” Barnaby sighed. “Someone might have tailed you. They might have found out you were asking questions about them, and tried to silence you.”
“I will go in disguise,” Connor murmured.
“You need to go everywhere in disguise,” Barnaby corrected. “I can stay with you myself right now, but until we can discover what they want, you need just as much protection as Tahlia.”
“We need to find out how Henry Gillingham died,” Connor warned. “The wording of his letter is unusual.”
“I know. I have already read it. I can get Simon Andrews to find his cause of death.”
When the clock in the hallway chimed the hour, Connor rose and made his way to the door. “Seeing as the hour is late, let’s go and see what we can discover about this Mr Tate.”
Barnaby rose and followed him into the hallway.
“Before you go, Connor, how does the situation lie between you and this Tahlia woman now? I don’t mean to pry, but is she likely to ignore you if she had to follow instructions?”
Connor knew his friend was asking whether they were likely to have to force her to do something if they ever faced danger. He contemplated that for a moment. He would like to say that Tahlia would follow instructions without a qualm, but doubted so given how things were between them at the moment.
“There is no trust there, I am afraid,” Connor admitted reluctantly. “She is not the kind of woman who would take foolish risks, but she is strong willed.”
Connor thought about that. It had been three years since he had seen her last. In some ways it felt as though an entire lifetime had gone by. However, it also felt like what they had shared back then had all taken place only yesterday. The emotions were still as fresh and as raw as they had been back then, and he suspected they always would be.
“I should have offered for her regardless of the consequences,” Connor murmured.
“You were working undercover, Connor. It wouldn’t have been fair to her to marry her and then leave her to live in hiding. You knew the dangers. Remember what happened to Sir Hugo and his wife, and Simon Ambrose. We barely got out with our lives intact. You did what you felt was best at the time.”
“I left her, Barnaby. We got caught in a compromising situation by one of the most spiteful gossips to live in London. I handed her over to her coldly furious uncle and left London. Alright, so I was going to Cornwall to capture smugglers killing innocent villagers. But I could have at least explained my situation to her uncle, and assured them both that I would be back as soon as possible.”
The countless times Connor had been over this very same argument in his head began to give him a headache.
“You had to remain undercover, Connor. If you told her uncle, he would have used it to explain to others why you were no longer around. That would have compromised us all,” Barnaby reasoned. “Besides, you were not ready to settle down back then. You were still carousing your way around town whenever you weren’t working. That is the problem with working undercover. You practically live outside, getting rained on, frozen, and threatened with death so much that when you are rested, fed, and back in the land of the living, you enjoy life to the fullest. You eventually become one of the shadows. You don’t live a normal life like everyone else does.”
“But Sir Hugo has been married for many years and is entirely happy. Simon Ambrose is the same, and Archie, Christian, Pie, Stephen, Rupert, and all the others. They have all settled down.”
“Yes, they have been lucky. However, their paths have been incredibly difficult. There has been a time or two when we doubted some of them would survive at all. You cannot lose sight of the fact that their job means they have to leave their families vulnerable, sometimes for several weeks at a time. They still put themselves in terrible danger and run the risk that one day they might not return home at all.”
Connor
knew his boss had a point, but was prepared to take the risk. The last three years without Tahlia had hardly brought him much in the way of happiness. Life couldn’t get any worse. He wanted to find out for himself what he had been missing out on for all that time, and discover for himself what the woman who owned his heart was truly like.
Barnaby sighed. He was plagued with a strange sense of disquiet whenever this particular subject was broached, and today was no different.
“I am aware that others do it, but they risk leaving their wives and loved ones behind if something goes wrong. I have no intention of having any wife or child of mine living in extreme poverty because some lunatic with a knife wanted me gone so he could have the way clear to steal precious gems.” He tapped the newspaper in his hand for emphasis. “These people are ruthless. Tahlia was safest moving away, and not just from the gossips. She has been able to get on with her life and settle down somewhere else. Three years apart has changed you both.”
Connor’s gaze flew to Barnaby’s, and he mentally cursed. “Is she married?”
His voice was far sharper than he intended and made Barnaby stare at him in concern.
“It is a possibility for someone so beautiful, don’t you think?”
Barnaby made his way to the door, but paused before he passed through it.
“I cannot tell you what to do, but Sayers won’t quit. If you do rekindle your association with Tahlia, remember what state you were in the last time you left her behind.”
Connor nodded.
Barnaby studied him thoughtfully for several moments.
“Henry Gillingham lives on the same street as the house that was burgled,” Barnaby murmured with a nod at the broadsheet.
“I know,” Connor replied with a nod.
“Best stick close to her then,” Barnaby cautioned before he went in search of his cloak.
Another man down, Barnaby mused silently as he drew his cloak on. Not that he blamed his colleague. If he was honest, he was a little envious of the happiness his friends had managed to find in their lives. He, however, had no intention of being bitten by the matrimonial bug. He would never be foolish enough to lose his heart to a weak-willed female, no manner how much they batted their eyelashes at him.