Page 46 of Undercover with the Heiress
‘Out of the way, Hempel. I have work to do.’
Rosanna held her ground. If he went, he might get hurt. If he went, he might solve the mystery without her.
If he went, he might not come back.
The thump at the door came again, more insistent. Hugh stepped into the entrance, humming to himself as he forged an oblivious path between them.
‘I am not taking callers,’ Rosanna said as she sidled out of the way. ‘I am about to go out.’
‘Like hell you are,’ Phineas growled.
Hugh paused for a long moment, his unsure gaze flicking between the two of them. The knock came again, and before Hugh could dither further, the door opened. A hand slapped against the wood, and Iris, her cheeks flushed as red as her hair, stamped into the entrance.
‘No one came.’ She clutched a roughly typed sheet of thin, blue copy paper in one hand and shook it at the two of them. ‘We have our meetings every Tuesday morning. We have held meetings on a Tuesday for more than a year. I plan and I organise and I compromise. People sleep through them. People avoid them. People pick fights and create issues, and still I try. But I shouldn’t bother because no one cares, because no one came!’
Cold guilt shot through Rosanna’s rage. She had completely forgotten, and to judge by the way Phineas adjusted his collar and bit his lip, he had, too.
‘I am needed at the bank,’ Phineas said softly, his tone weighted with apology. ‘Why don’t you discuss it with Rosanna? She is staying home this morning. Hugh, sort tea for the ladies.’
‘I am not staying home,’ Rosanna snapped. ‘I don’t give a damn what you say, I am going with you, and Iris should come too!’ Rosanna kept her eyes locked on Phineas as she pointed, rudely, at Iris. ‘No one knows Collins, Vincent, and Sanders like her. She can help.’
‘I cannot put the future countess in danger,’ Phineas said, with a glance over Iris’s shoulder to where Lord Dalton was just stepping off the road. He ascended the stairs, taking them two at a time.
‘Danger? Who’s in danger?’ Hamish reached the doorway and stopped beside his wife. ‘Are we going on an adventure?’
Phineas slapped his hand onto the entrance table, its thump resounding and silencing all discussion. ‘Weare not going anywhere.’ He gritted the words out between clenched teeth, hisnostrils flaring. ‘There is no adventure.Iam going to undertake some work for the bank. Like normal.’
Iris barked a laugh. ‘Normal? For heaven’s sake, Phineas, we all know you have some secret double life.’
Phineas’s mouth contorted through silent objections and questions. How delightful to see him not purposefully quiet, but utterly lost for words.
‘We do?’ Hamish said, looking between Iris and Phineas.
Iris rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve travelled the world and met many people. And yes, many people from banks. I may not know the specifics of what you do, but you are obviously more than a clerk. Now, what’s this about Mr Sanders? Has he been actinginappropriately?’ Iris, normally so calm and kind, bristled with ire. ‘Hamish, call Mr Rogers to prepare the carriage. And will you sit with Papa until we return?’
‘No.’ Hamish may have been a future earl, but he could still stamp his foot like a petulant child. ‘I am not staying behind while everyone has another adventure without me.’
‘But…’ Iris stalled as she looked to her husband. A narrow, discordant gaze settled between them. Worry creased Iris’s brow.
‘Mason will manage,’ he said. ‘Or send for Jonah to sit with him.’ Hamish took Iris’s hand and kissed her knuckles. ‘You are my everything. You know that. But we need more than memories. We need fresh adventures.’
Outside of her own parents, Rosanna couldn’t remember seeing such a moment of normalcy, of marital misalignment, of two souls so perfectly suited butting heads. Of humble perfection.
A small grin tugged at Iris’s lips. ‘It has been a while, hasn’t it?’ She lunged at her husband and planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘Come on Lord La-di-dah. Fetch the cavalry. I’ll tell Gena.’ Irisrounded on her and Phineas. ‘I could spot a swindle from Scotland. You will not leave without me.’
‘But—’ Phineas stammered.
‘From Scotland!’ she repeated, and with a swish and a cackling laugh of excitement, Iris and Hamish rushed down the stairs and crossed to Number 4.
Phineas waved a hand in surrender as they left. Rosanna murmured to Hugh and gave him his leave. She leant against the wall while Phineas paced the length of the entrance, grumpy and agitated. With each frustrated turn, her heart tore a little more, the rip primitive and pained. This was it. Like Iris and Hamish, they were setting off on an adventure, but theirs would cast their lives into disparate directions instead of forging a new bond.
Phineas reached for his umbrella, then hesitated. Rosanna took a slow breath of confusion and maddening panic. The jagged edges of loving without receiving love in return grated, visceral and raw. She would help to free him from this life that he wanted to escape. She would cast him into the horizons of possibility by planting both feet firmly here, in the street of all her life. And at the end, she would let him go.
Inside the carriage, Iris settled beside Phineas. ‘Tell me everything,’ she said.
Hamish leant back in his seat, shook his head, and chuckled. ‘This street.’
The horses took each corner, travelled each street both too fast and too slow. Every pause jumbled Rosanna’s breath, and she stared out the window, only holding the world inside the carriage at the fringes of her awareness. Buildings, people, life jumbled and blurred as they passed. Eventually, Iris ran out of questions and reached across the carriage to hold her husband’s hand.
