For the first time in a long while, he felt a renewed purpose for his job. A twinge of something more than simply going through the motions. Getting one assignment done to move on to the next.
Lady Annabel dismissed the student she’d been meeting with for the last thirty minutes, only to sit back at her desk and shift through more papers. As much as he wanted to dismiss her as a typical highborn lady, he had to give her credit for her devotion to the school and students. He might not be familiar with every lady of stature, but he was acquainted with enough to know very few would be content with the trivial tasks Lady Annabel dealt with on a daily basis.
“Does your job require you to do anything other than to sit and watch, Mr. Frederickson?” she quietly inquired, keeping her focus on the papers before her.
“Ahh, but with such an enticing subject matter, who wouldn’t choose to merely observe? And it is Nate.” He couldn’t have stopped the sweet retort if he’d wanted to. His forwardness was rewarded when the faint blush rose in her cheeks.
A few minutes passed while she must have debated if she would satisfy him with a reply. To his delight her inner pluckiness won out.
“I’m hardly a simpleton. False flattery means nothing to me . . . Nate.”
As much as she might have intended his name as a taunt, the four letters slipped past her lips with such delicate utterance, he almost lost his footing in their verbal skirmish.
“What makes you believe it is false?”
She abandoned her work and glanced at him. The touch of flame hidden in her hair contrasted with the calm of her gaze. “As you’ve been disinclined to be anything beyond civil to me since your arrival, I’d be a fool to succumb to it now.”
Her assessment was mark on, so he didn’t attempt to mount a defense. Better to change the subject.
“You seem remarkably sane after dealing with the petty troubles of so many young ladies.”
“I’m going to ignore the implication that because they are young ladies, their troubles are petty.” She attempted to cover the hint of a smile. “Especially since I would be lying if I didn’t agree. More times than not their problems are, at the most, trivial. In their defense, at their age everything is the end of the world. There have been plenty of times when I’ve wanted to send them from my office to fend for themselves.”
When she spoke of her students, even in terms of their bickering, she became animated in a way he’d never seen from a lady of consequence. Which enhanced her subtle loveliness no one else seemed to notice.
“Why continue to do it?”
Her hands paused over the papers and with complete certainty she answered, “Because it is what my mother would have done if she were here.”
With one sentence, Nate suddenly understood more about Lady Annabel than he’d learned in the last several days.
“My mother never had the opportunity to make the school into what she might have wanted. Yet there is no doubt in my mind she would have done everything possible to give these young ladies an education that would take them further than classes in etiquette and deportment. As well as personally help them through whatever problems arose, trifling or not.”
“It must have been hard to lose her.”
She returned to righting the papers on her desk. Feeling foolish atop his stool in the corner, he abandoned it for an equally uncomfortable chair before her desk. He suspected the less-than-inviting seating served as further chastisement for disobedient students who had the misfortune of needing Lady Annabel’s direction. Her tactic had to be admired. What better way to keep the young girls on edge than an unforgiving chair?
Maybe Lawson should look at hiring Lady Annabel. The agency could always use more agents specializing in interrogations.
Past the point of trying to find an agreeable angle to place his body, he turned his attention to Lady Annabel, still organizing her desk, which wasn’t cluttered to begin with.
“I miss her every day,” she abruptly whispered.
Trained to get information from people, he knew when to keep silent. Instead, he focused on the darkness of her lashes shuttering her eyes as her head remained lowered.
“Papa has done the best he knows, and I love him all the more for it, but I feel like something is missing. Only when I’m at the school do I feel close to her.”
She settled the last of the papers and rather than start a new task, she met his steady gaze. “She never had the opportunity to run the school but the faint memories I have of her include bringing me along as she assisted with instructing classes. Being a child of seven when she died, I can’t bring to mind how she smelled, the sound of her voice, and without paintings, I’d never recall her face. But I remember our trips to the school and as absurd as it sounds, I feel her presence when I’m here.”
Immersed in her story, the torment of the hard wood beneath his buttocks slid away. Though she remained a typical society miss, she clearly felt more than most put on. Having lost his own mother, albeit later in life, every one of her words hit him square in the chest. Nate feared one day he’d forget the sweet melody of his mother’s voice. The woman who’d sacrificed everything for him. All taken away because his father had found her pleasing in bed but too far beneath him to acknowledge.
Old hate swirled from him and mixed with Lady Annabel’s melancholy, seeming to form a connection between them.
Unable to handle the strength of the silence, he found his voice. “Wanting to keep her memory alive, however you need to, is not absurd. We do what we must. Believe me, I know.”
Her turquoise eyes locked onto his and the pull was so alarming, he had no choice but to look away.
“When did you lose her?” she asked quietly.
“My tale is not nearly as heartbreaking. I was well past the point of being a child when my mother contracted consumption. She’d lived a hard life at the hands of my father and I think, in the end, she’d embraced death as much as it had crushed her to think of leaving me, a grown man, to fend for himself.”
“I don’t think it is ever easy for a parent to say goodbye to their children.” Sadness encircled her words and brought his focus back to her.
“Leaving you at such a young age must have been difficult for your mother. Had she been ill?”
“Nothing quite as predictable as an illness. She died during childbirth. It was later in her life and it took time for my father to recover from the sense of responsibility. I’m not sure if it wasn’t a blessing the baby died as well. It may be selfish but I don’t know if I would have had the capacity to love the sibling who I’d no doubt believed took my mother from me.”
He didn’t know why she’d decided to share so openly with him. None of his actions over the last two days had encouraged it. Nate was pleased nevertheless. Despite them being worlds apart, and her still a spoiled princess, it broke through his shell knowing they’d experienced similar grief.
“If the affection you show the students is any indication, you would have loved the child enough for you and your mother.”
He didn’t know where the sentiment had come from but she seemed as if she needed to hear it. Their acquaintance wasn’t deep enough to be considered a friendship.
The only acknowledgement she gave that his words meant something was a slight nod of her head before she turned away once again.
He didn’t need her words. Or her confirmation. Her eyes had said it for her. Before she’d lowered her gaze and deprived him of those fathomless depths, he’d seen the sheen of tears mixed with a subtle acceptance.
“I need to speak with Evie, then we should return home. I’m still worried about my father.”
As simple as that, she severed the moment. If Nate was a different man, he’d mourn the loss of their brief connection. It was for the best though. After last night and her escapade in the garden, h
e needed to keep a clear head. There had to be something she was hiding.
He’d be damned if he’d allow a mere miss to best him.
Chapter 12
Anna no longer knew what to make of the Runner. After their conversation at the school the day before, something had shifted. In no way had they become friends, but gone was the gleam of absolute contempt in his eyes when they fell upon her. Likewise, she no longer found him completely loathsome. If anything, they were on the precipice of becoming cordial to one another.
A development that could be her salvation or her eventual downfall.
Despite this, she wasn’t pleased with his presence. She still had no plan as to how she’d meet Mr. Rollins’ latest request with Nate blocking her every move. Ever since her last pilfering and the night of the party, he’d become increasingly diligent in his duty to apprehend the thief. To the point she hadn’t an opportunity to scout out an artifact valuable enough to appease Mr. Rollins, yet insignificant enough to keep from sending her father into an unhealthy fury if he noticed it missing.
Not about to be fooled again, Nate had taken to guarding the parlor with increased patrols, in addition to stationing more men throughout the grounds. It seemed she couldn’t take a step without rousing someone’s attention—most often Nate himself. He’d become annoyingly underfoot.
For some unfathomable reason, he appeared to have found merit in her father’s claim to her safety being at risk. Which was how she found herself cloistered in the library with Nate, when all she wanted was solitude to find a way out of her latest muddle. She’d already wasted two valuable days trying to navigate around the man. Her fortnight would be over before she knew it.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be spending your time doing something else?” she asked, hoping she’d applied enough sweetness to her words to conceal her frustration. “I’m sure sitting with me while I plan lessons is far beneath your skills.”
He lowered the paper he’d been reading and she couldn’t contain her silent sigh at the sweet dimple accompanying his rakish grin. Did the man have to be so unbearably handsome? Especially when she fully intended to remain annoyed with him instead of softened by his charm. No matter how tempting it may be.
“Back to trying to escape?”
“Nothing of the sort. I’m merely feeling guilty you’ve been forced to assume the unnecessary job of keeping me safe from a non-existent threat. Unless my father thinks I’ll come to harm from a piece of paper.” She ignored the twinge of guilt at her lie. She needed to be rid of the man.
He folded the paper and set it on a small occasional table. “I want to believe you, princess, but for some reason I’m reluctant.” The glint of humor in his eyes erased any reprimand from his comment. “Our short history has taught me a thing or two. Notably your tendency to flee from my side.”
He had a valid point. And I’ve no response to offer. Extricating herself from his company was precisely what she desired.
Carson, the butler, appeared at the door, saving her from having to conjure yet another bend on the truth.
“Sorry to intrude, Lady Annabel. The Earl of Foxmoore is here to see Mr. Frederickson.”
Anna stood, relieved at the interruption.
“Please, show him in. I’m sure Mr. Frederickson will welcome the company.” She didn’t know what business the earl had with a Runner, but anyone who’d take Nate’s attention from her was welcomed.
Nate came to his feet and greeted the tall, handsome man who entered shortly after Carson vacated the doorway.
“Foxmoore, this is a surprise. What brings you this far from London?” Nate shook the earl’s hand.
The men were clearly on friendly terms. Surprising, based on Nate’s aversion to anything connected to the ton. He might keep his judgment locked behind his duties, but she’d seen it break through his exterior. He’d made enough subtle comments for her to discern his noticeable dislike.
“I’m here on business, actually. Lawson sent me.”
“Lawson? What business would you have with Lawson?”
“Before two days ago, none. I’ve been asked to assist with some matters regarding artifacts,” the earl answered with a quick look in her direction, aware Nate hadn’t introduced them. Intrigued by Nate’s baffled expression, she wasn’t about to interrupt to make herself known.
“What do you know of artifacts?” Nate questioned.
She told herself it was perfectly acceptable to enjoy Nate’s bemusement. Especially as he’d been putting her through an emotional plunge since the day they’d met.
Apparently more manner-minded than Nate, the earl ignored Nate’s fumbling and turned to her. “Pardon my friend here, but I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
By rule, Anna typically didn’t have the patience for overly attractive and clearly exalted men. However, the man before her had a keen intelligence in his deep green eyes. There was certainly more to the Earl of Foxmoore than simply being a man of consequence.
Nate snapped to attention before she could introduce herself. “Apologies. Lady Annabel, may I introduce the Earl of Foxmoore, brother to my sister-in-law. Foxmoore, Lady Annabel, Brodford’s daughter and my current assignment.”
She ignored the twinge brought on by Nate implying she was merely an obligation, since she essentially was.
“It is an honor, Lady Annabel. Familiar with your father and his work, I’ve heard of you in passing but never have our paths crossed.”
“You know my father?”
“I know of your father. Which would be more accurate. Any man who dabbles in history would be aware of Brodford’s devotion to Egyptian artifacts.”
The earl didn’t share similarities with any of the men who typically matched her father’s interest. Also, given Nate’s gaping stare, his hobby wasn’t well known.
“It is always a pleasure to meet someone with the same interest as my father. He will be thrilled to show you his collection, my lord.”
“Please call me Foxmoore. I’m certain we are about to become better acquainted before this is finished.”
Returning from wherever his mind had taken him, Nate glanced toward Foxmoore. “What exactly is it you will be doing?”
“From your confusion, I take it I’ve arrived before Lawson’s letter.”
“I haven’t received a letter, but knowing Lawson and his newfound need to disrupt my life, I wouldn’t be surprised to find there is no letter.”
The men continued to discuss the wayward letter while Anna compared the earl and the Runner. Both were exceedingly attractive, each in his own way. The earl had a refined appeal with a clean-shaven face that carried a trace of seriousness in the classical lines, lessened by the unmistakable hint of humor and intellect shining from his eyes.
Nate continued to sport a sprinkling of facial hair over his jaw. Having never seen him with a smooth shave, even in the early morning, she assumed it was by choice and not necessity due to the rate of growth. Instead of giving him a lazy or unkempt appearance, it added to his rakish allure. That, in addition to his defined jaw and sapphire eyes, set his appeal apart from Foxmoore’s.
“Lawson sent you as our expert?”
Nate’s skeptically laced question drew her attention. She scolded herself for losing her focus in the first place.
The earl remained calm. “Since I don’t flaunt my hobby to all of England, it is understandable you would have your doubts. Especially considering our familial connection. I prefer to keep parts of my life separate. Surely something you can understand.”
As Foxmoore gave Nate a pointed look, Anna sensed an undercurrent between the two men. There was clearly a second, silent conversation taking place. Whatever the earl’s unspoken message, given Nate’s slight nod, he had understood every nuance.
“Very well, where do
we begin?”
“My expertise being exceedingly less than Lord Brodford’s, there is a limit to what I can provide. However, I’ve been acquiring long enough to know the most inner circle of collectors. I can monitor what items are being sold. Before I scope out what the thief might be offloading, I want to discuss the items with Lord Brodford. I’m not interested in wasting time tracking false objects.”
“Seems exceedingly well thought-out. My father will be pleased with your assistance,” Anna interjected, feeling the walls closing around her. Now, not only did she need to deceive Nate, she had to worry about Foxmoore tracking Mr. Rollins and discovering what the vile man had done with the artifacts. She retained no delusions as to where Mr. Rollins’ loyalty would fall. It wouldn’t be with her. He’d expose her and she’d be left with nothing.
Worse, once Foxmoore had his information from her father, he’d be gone from the estate and she’d have no way of knowing how close he would be to solving the mystery. She now had an invisible sword poised above her head.
At least with Nate she retained a semblance of control. Even if it wasn’t true and she was as close to being caught as when he’d first arrived.
“I believe our best chance lies with the last theft. It has only been two days and hopefully the thief doesn’t have a proficient enough channel to have offloaded the item already.” The lines on Nate’s face eased with his command. She could feel him take control of the situation with a shift in the air. As if his confidence demanded attention.
Why did she find it so incredibly tempting? Didn’t her misguided brain—which found him interesting and alluring—also understand he had the power to destroy everything she loved?
Apparently not, since she couldn’t summon the wherewithal to keep her eyes from skimming his muscular form. She had to give herself a subtle shake to focus on the conversation. If she had any hope of protecting her secret, she needed to stay one step ahead of Nate . . . and now Foxmoore.
The Runner's Enticement (Men of Circumstance Book 2) Page 7