Page 23 of Unmasking the Silver Heiress
"We've only just started our work," Nathaniel said dryly, stepping around his cousin and motioning to the left-hand staircase. "You'll have to forgive our lack of progress. Come, I will show you the bedroom we're currently outfitting if you like."
Kit nodded, his eyes wide, taking in the surroundings as he followed, each footstep echoing throughout the cavernous insides of the unfed beast that was this house.
They passed the nursery, the door hanging open on hinges that would need replacing, and the cradle inside haloed in eerie moonlight on a threadbare rug. Kit seemed to shiver, huddling into his coat a little more after that.
When they reached the bedroom, Nate was pleased to see the bed had been fully assembled, complete with linens, and the floors swept and tidied. There was even fresh wood in the fireplace. He could easily pass the evening here if he so chose.
"I'll light a fire," he said, walking past his stunned cousin to go about the business of bringing some warmth into this place. It gave him an excuse to keep his back turned, to occupy his hands and mind while Kit came to whatever conclusions he was going to come to.
He discarded his gloves and knelt at the hearth, gathering the tinderbox and a bit of kindling to go about his work. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to light his own fire. Something about seeing the sparks jump to life and mature into mighty flames was deeply satisfying.
By the time he stood, the fire was building nicely, and the warmth was most welcome.
The light that flooded the room seemed to highlight the bare walls and naked floors. The room had been stripped clean, without even curtains to darken the world without. He tried to remember if there had been decor of any sort in here this morning. There had been a rug, he knew, when he'd walked through with his aunt, but he couldn't form a clear memory of the walls.
This had been his parents' room.
Kit set down his lantern and crossed the room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed with his elbows balanced on his knees. He shook his head, staring into the fire rather than looking directly at Nate. When he spoke, his voice had lost its sharp edge, blunted by the shock of coming back here again.
"Who is she, Nathaniel?" he asked. "What are you really doing here?"
Nate didn't answer immediately, leaning back against the mantle of the fireplace and attempting to organize his thoughts in a way that would be the most palatable.
"Do not lie to me again." Kit sighed, running a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. "I always know when you're lying."
"You do," Nate replied evenly. "You are the only one."
"Not your wife?"
"Least of all my wife." Nate shook his head, glancing out the naked windows to the sloping hills below the house, a blur of blackened grass and skeletal trees in the darkness. "I think you know that I would not have come back here of my own accord. It is an unpleasant necessity for the good of everything, and I would simply like to make it as tolerable as I can. You oughtn't harry your mother with more worries, least of all on account of me."
"I will worry about my mother, Nate." He was frowning again, such a stern judge of all things right or wrong. "Who is this girl you married? What are you involved in? Just have out with it now and spare us both the boredom of a long game of block and parry."
Nate drew a bracing breath, deciding there was indeed no point in a long game of subterfuge, at least where Kit was involved. He crossed his arms over his chest, leveling his cousin with his best serious stare. "My sister would have been twenty, this past spring. Did you know that?"
Kit flinched, clearly surprised by the direction this had taken. "Yes, of course I did. It was a tragic thing that happened to them, Nate. It was cruel and unfair."
"It wasn't an accident," Nate replied. "You remember your father's rantings about my parents being caught up in shady dealings? Of being executed as traitors with a baby in tow as collateral damage?"
Kit squinted at him, confusion evident on his face. "My father is a delusional madman. He sees plotting and conspiracy everywhere. He once accused us of feeding information to the vicar, remember? He chased us around the lawn with a polo stick. His insistence that your parents were in bed with silver spies was just more lunatic ranting."
"You're not entirely wrong,” Nate said smoothly, resisting the urge to admit he was, in fact, passing information to the vicar during the incident in question. “Archibald Cooper was a paranoid, unsteady, untrustworthy fool. However, in this particular matter, his grandiose beliefs happen to have been correct. My parents were indeed involved with a contingent of spies. They are called the Silver Leaf Society, and I have spent years seeking out answers as to who they are and what agenda they serve."
Kit did not immediately respond, his mouth opening and then snapping back shut as his hand came back up over his eyes. He groaned, likely regretting his demand for the truth.
"My parents worked for the Silver Leaf Society. It has been confirmed beyond any doubt, but beyond that, the details remain a mystery.”
“What details?” Kit asked, as though he did not truly want the answer.
Nate frowned. “You know very well. They departed Dover, sea-bound for Calais with my baby sister in tow, and none of them ever returned. Your father said they were disposed of for treason by agents of the Crown. It's an unpleasant reality, but I am inclined to believe him until I see proof otherwise."
“You can’t seriously believe that! You must realize how unhinged it sounds!”
Nate held up a hand, continuing to speak, with no sympathy stirring in his chest for the shock he was dropping on his cousin. "After a great deal of time and effort, I have finally made my way into the ranks of this secret society.Thatis why I am here. I must play the part of a loyal lackey until I have uncovered the whole of the truth. After that, I intend to expose and destroy all remnants of their murderous ranks, and I've made great progress in doing so."
"And the girl?" Kit asked, his voice thick with exasperation. "Your wife?"
Nate hesitated, no simple answer rising to his thoughts. Eleanor was not only a member of the society he intended to upend, she was the heiress apparent to take over the whole operation. Her expressive little face floated up in his memory, so void of evil or malice, and he found he couldn't quite categorize what part she played in all of this anymore.
