Page 1 of Unmasking the Silver Heiress
Prologue
My Dearest Brother,
Please read the entirety of this letter before you leave your quarters this morning. For my sake and yours, it is best that you get all of the relevant information directly from me, ahead of speaking to anyone else.
Firstly, and most importantly, you should know that I have left Somerton with Nathaniel Atlas. By the time you read this letter, we will already be thoroughly entrenched in our journey north toward Newcastle-on-Tyne. The purpose of this flight was not to elope, but of course an elopement must now occur to maintain propriety.
I have told you more than once that you sleep far too heavily and that you ought to mention it to a doctor. I know this might not be the appropriate time to nag you about it, but for God's sake, Peter. I intend to slip this message directly into your hands tonight and I know for a certainty that you will not stir. It concerns me!
No matter.
Last night you slept through a great deal of chaos. An intruder broke into Somerton and waited in the shadows of Lord Alex's bedroom. His search of that room turned up just as little as mine did (and yours and Nathaniel's, for that matter). So, he waited for Alex's return, threatened him for the location of what he brought home from Oxford, and then clubbed him on the head.
Alex Somers is perfectly well. I know you will have shot up onto your feet at this, but I implore you, Brother, please sit back down. There is more you must know before you leave your bedchamber.
I am certain that I know who took the valise from Somerton and what route he is taking to deliver it to his employer. I considered waking you to come with me, but I realized that I did not wish to leave Mr. Atlas behind lest he confront Alex Somers about the whole affair. I know you were just as startled as I when Atlas suggested having Somers injured, and since he seems to have no qualms with such measures, I thought it best to remove him entirely while we attempt to resolve the situation.
Further, I do not wish to see my friend Gloriana married to a possible murderer. I am far better equipped to manage a dangerous spouse than she is, whether you believe it or not. I remind you that I have been an agent of the Silver Leaf for far longer than you, and have never been caught, despite turning quite a lot of sensitive information over to concerned parties.
Atlas has seemed frantic about the failure of his first mission, and rightfully so. A recruit who cannot complete his initial task is rarely retained. Why he is so determined to participate in a minor operation like ours remains a mystery, but I have leveraged this knowledge to remove both Alex and Gloriana from any danger he might present.
Perhaps least relevant of all, I did not wish to die a spinster nor settle for the type of man who might have begrudgingly accepted me. I do not expect to have a fairy tale life of romance with the spouse I have chosen, but it will set me up nicely for a position in Society to be respected, not pitied. Our parents will be thrilled, of course, and Aunt Zelda will come to see the logic in it, in time.
I know you too well to request your immediate forgiveness, for I know you will be too angry to give it. I only ask that your frustrations with me be short-lived. I ask that sense and reason, which I know you possess in spades, lead you to realize that what I've done is already done, and cannot be improved by discontent. It is what I want. Beyond that, and perhaps more importantly, it will make life better (and safer) for a great many people for whom we both care deeply.
I beseech you to manage the events following my departure with care. There is no use in attempting to come after me, as I have already penned a letter to Lady Somers alerting her to what I've done. You cannot fix or undo this, Peter, and so please accept it, and trust me.
Once we have retrieved the parcel, I will insist we return immediately to London. If I do not find you there, I will leave another letter for you. Do not worry, please. I am well.
Your devoted sister,
Nell
Chapter 1
Eleanor Applegate was in over her head.
Perhaps such a thing was less than shocking for a woman of such modest stature. All the same, it was not a feeling she enjoyed. Nell had never felt quite so small in her life as she did in this particular moment, and she had spent a lifetime feeling small.
When this had begun, she had felt ten feet tall. She had marched into a scheme of her own devising with her eyes open, heart racing, and hot blood rushing in her veins. She had been filled with the certainty that she was grasping her future with both hands, that if she embarked on this adventure, she would be taking the first step in becoming the woman she had always dreamed of being.
She should have known that such a thing was ridiculous, that on the other side of her plot, she would still be nothing more than mousy, disappointing Nell Applegate. The only thing she'd accomplished these last days was betraying one of her dearest friends and securing an unenthusiastic bridegroom in the process.
This queasy twist of regret was not how she imagined she might feel, alone in a room with the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes upon. But here they were, sprawled on the floor of a ramshackle inn on the Scots border, caught in a pained silence instead of a passionate embrace.
What had she been thinking?
She sighed, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes. She knew very well what she'd been thinking. From the moment she'd pressed the first note into his hand at Almack's half a year ago and had felt herself frozen in place by those chameleon's hazel eyes, she'd been fighting an impossible, persistent obsession. Nothing she had done, no amount of reasoning with herself, had been successful at stamping out her shameful desires.
Now she had him, didn't she? So why did it feel so terrible?
The moon was hiding behind a heavy layer of clouds outside, leaving little but the sad strings of light emitting from two greasy candles on either side of the room. Even her shadow looked small, she thought, and she felt even smaller. The shadow of her companion slanted across the floor like a towering giant, ready to stomp its tiny adversary to dust.
Their mission had technically been a successful one. A valise, battered and nondescript, was currently lying open on the uneven wooden floor between them, all its contents sprawled out on the threadbare rug at the foot of the bed. It was those contents, or the lack thereof, that were the problem.
"I can't believe it," she muttered, too exhausted to even lift her head to face him, her foot nudging the mismatched stack of books and papers scattered in front of her. "After everything, we still don't have it."
Nathaniel Atlas was silent, though Nell imagined she could feel the waves of cold fury coming off him all the same. Was his anger at their failure or at being stuck with her, she wondered. Were those eyes shifting and shimmering with the colors of his rage? What sort of man would he be when he was angry? The fact that she did not know only twisted her gut tighter.
