Page 26 of Undercover with the Heiress
Rosanna stopped, horrified. Apart from their brief discussion on snakes and pirates, she hadn’t spoken with the woman. She’d been too worried about herself.
Phineas swore under his breath. ‘This is why I work alone. This is why I shouldn’t even have tried to help you. I should have just left you—’
‘Why didn’t you?’ she shot back, all her anger at Lord Richard still roiling in her blood. ‘I didn’t ask you to help me, I didn’t—’
Phineas pushed her deeper into the alcove, pressing her hard against the wall, and covered her mouth with his palm. Rosanna squawked, but he held her firm, his tension and sternness stronger than her indignation. He hushed in her ear, then, low and coarse, muttered, ‘Shut it, Hempel.’
Ire roared through her, but in the tense moment between Phineas removing his hand and Rosanna drawing a furious breath, a thump came from nearby. She turned to the glass through which the indistinct shape of dark suits and tall men moved fuzzily, their bodies stark against the light walls.
One man grunted, and another swore. Phineas squashed closer. His chest, his thighs, every part of him aligned with her, his body all tight with frustration and disappointment. Her heart lurched before her memory caught up. One voice belonged to Lord Richard, and she’d bet her monthly allowance that the other came from the man from the park. The angry man who had hit her.
‘I’ll get the money,’ Lord Richard stammered. ‘I swear it—’
‘Mr Pennington don’t like being lied to. He likes to be paid. You said the chit had your money.’
‘Notwithher,’ Lord Richard snapped. ‘Young ladies don’t carry their dowry with them when they go courting. I needed to marry her, but she turns everyone down. I was about to create a scenario where she couldn’t say no when you interrupted and botched it—’
‘And then you said,’ the man from the park’s voice became louder, ‘that you had her in the palm of your hand and that she’d be begging for an affair. That you’d convince her to sign some money over. But she doesn’t seem swayed by your charms.’
He hadn’t meant to propose—he’d meant to force her hand. That’s why he had led her into the garden. Not for some romantic gesture but to create a scandal. The realisation burnt bitter in her throat. All her fretting and care, all her attempts to show she was worthy of being the wife of a lord—and more, worthy of love—had been unnecessary. The pounds that were rumoured to be attached to her name were all he saw. All any of them saw.
Phineas pressed closer. His cheek touched hers, and their shallow breaths bloomed across the glass. His body softened as if, instead of interrogating her, he might create a cocoon.
‘Who’s her husband?’ the man from the park asked.
‘No one. Some bank clerk who lives in the next townhouse. Landed in a goldmine just for walking through the park at the right time.’
‘He smitten? If she was to go missing, would he pay to get her back or keep the money?’
‘You’ve seen her,’ Lord Richard said, his tone edged with innuendo.
Rosanna glanced at Phineas, but his expression remained impassive, his stare hard. As if he himself might pay the men to take her.
‘New plan. You’ll nab her one day when she’s out and send him a note. Her money for her. You said she was too uppity anddidn’t care for rules. Won’t take long. This is just a roundabout way of getting the same coin.’
‘I am a gentleman. I cannot go about kidnapping young women—’ Lord Richard’s voice strangled, then squeaked.
‘Do it, or it’ll beyourfamily getting the note aboutyou.’
One last thump echoed through the hallway as the man from the park pushed Lord Richard against the wall, then left him to slide to the floor. His shadow shifted, a confident blur through the patterns in the glass. Lord Richard stumbled to his feet, bent in half, gave a strangled sob, and followed.
Rosanna clenched her teeth to tamp down tears. Her pride was still shattering into miniscule shards of foolishness.
‘Don’t leave the house unaccompanied,’ Phineas growled. ‘Take the groom when you go riding. Any other time you leave the house, it’s with me or your brother.’
‘Johannes wouldn’t hurt anyone. He’s strong because of his work, not because he’s a brute.’
Phineas stepped back and straightened his waistcoat. ‘Really, Hempel. I thought you above anyone would know that, in this city, appearances are all that matter.’
Chapter Eleven
‘And I don’t understand why he can’t give him some space. What is it with men and their sons? After Johannes left in a huff—a quiet one, because,Johannes, I went down to the kitchen and then to the desk, and you won’tbelievewhat Pierre had to deal with from some uppity countess from up north…’
Once upon a time, Phineas’s days had been spent in silence.
He’d eaten breakfast in silence.
He’d walked to the bank in silence.
