Page 57 of Undercover with the Heiress
The door crept open with aching slowness. Behind them, the clerks’ offices stood deserted, their empty spaces gaping in the bank’s early morning slumber. The most diligent and eager clerks would start to arrive at around eight o’clock, not for about an hour. There was not a soul here to question them.
Inside the safe, stacks of bonds stuffed into folders tied with string, wads of bank notes, and trays of bright gold sovereigns, fresh from the mint, filled the shelves that ran along its sides. Pennington shoved Phineas aside. He shoved the wads of paper and coins into a bag and grabbed folders with client details and bank balances. For a man like himself who could read the stories behind the numbers, find vulnerabilities and secrets in the margins, it was a life-changing haul. More than money, Pennington was shoving power into his bag.
‘You have everything you want?’ Phineas asked.
Pennington sneered. ‘Not quite.’ And with a hard shove against his back, Phineas stumbled forward, his head colliding with the sharp edge of the open door. Through a blurry veil of thumping agony, he staggered back, only to be thrust forwards again. He steadied himself against the shelves. Pennington chuckled. ‘Now I have what I want.’ Phineas turned and stretched out through the blur, but he was too slow.
The last thing he saw was Pennington, smug and framed in the white light of the bank, before the door swung closed.
Chapter Twenty-four
When she found Phineas, she would wring his neck.
And she would find him. She must.
She had to tell him how stupid he was.
Rosanna paced the length of the library. Using her riding crop, she flipped the curtains open a smidge. She’d recognise Pennington’s messenger anywhere. He’d bruised her cheek and torn her dress. A brute like that left an impression.
She’d been on the landing, about to follow Phineas’s order to return to her room, when a blast of fury had engulfed her. Only the night before, he’d promised her a marriage of equals, and then he had asserted his authority at the first opportunity. Instead of toddling back to take her dutiful place between the sheets, she had spun on her heel, taking each step in silence as he’d taught her. She was going to follow him to the kitchens, sneak in to find him confused and fumbling, and remind him who he was married to. Three steps down and she’d heard another voice. Heard the threat and his ready concession that she was better off without him.
Who did he think he was, treating her like a helpless damsel? When she found him, she would set him straight. Rosanna stifled a sob against her riding glove and choked her panic down. She would find him before Pennington hurt him. She would.
Felix tapped on the door. ‘Mr Brown has saddled Lovelace. And I don’t know if Miss Hartright received it, but we sent your message between staff, over the walls. Letitia went on a reconnaissance mission. There’s the man across the road, and one on each end of the lane that runs along the length behind the stables. Only the one across the street is very attentive though. The other two—’
‘Seem to think that they’ve got an easy job on their hands, and that a woman alone is weak and easy to bully?’
Felix smirked. ‘I’d wager they’re thinking something like that. I delivered a message to your brother, but I think a few others may have overheard…’
Felix jolted forwards as Johannes pushed him aside to squeeze through the doorway. In his wake, a steady stream of family followed. Elliot and Beatrice, even Ammie and Nova, all of them loud and clamouring with questions. Father brought up the rear end of the rabble. He clapped his hands twice, then again. The group settled.
‘What’s this I hear about Babbage needing a rescue party?’ he asked.
‘Pennington tracked him down and threatened me if he didn’t go with him to the bank.’ Rosanna tapped her riding crop against her skirt in a failed attempt to concentrate her nervous agitation. ‘He’s got men watching the house, and if Phineas doesn’t do what he says, they’re to come after me. And instead of asking for my help, he’s gone off to deal with Pennington alone.’
Father gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Your husband is an idiot. Other people make us stronger, not weaker. Your mother taught me that, and when is she ever wrong?’
‘Never,’ Rosanna said. From Johannes to Elliot to Beatrice, even the smaller children, all of them nodded, like they were believers in the only truth in the world. And maybe they were. They all made her stronger, even when all she wanted to do was scream at them and run away. ‘He’s not used to having people he can rely on.’
‘What’s the plan, Rosie?’ Elliot asked.
‘Any chance you can create a distraction?’ she replied.
Elliot raised a hand in salute. ‘Distraction is my middle name.’
Rosanna directed the family where she needed them to be. She set Ammie and Nova by the window, with the very important job of hollering as loud as they could if they saw the man across the way take more than a few steps. Beatrice paced the hallway with Letitia and Hugh, all of them claiming they had learnt how to fight on the stage, and the real thing couldn’t be that much harder. Elliot slunk off home, only to return with a mischievous grin and a bag full of thin cylinders wrapped in white paper. Johannes hung about in the entrance, waiting.
Father followed her to the stables. Mr Brown had Lovelace saddled and waiting, and he rubbed the horse’s flank. Her father knelt and interlocked his hands. Rosanna placed her foot in his palms, and with a jolt, he lifted her into the seat. With a fluid follow through, he rose to standing, and as she settled herself into her side-saddle, he rubbed at dirt and bits of fluff. He’d always been larger than the full moon to her, an enormous figure of determination and strength, but as she looked down from her seat astride Lovelace, he seemed older and more worried than she ever remembered him being. A thin line of grey hair tucked behind his ear.
‘I want to stay married to Phineas,’ she blurted out. ‘We’ve come to care for one another. Love one another.’
‘You want to—pardon?’
‘If you tell me any different, I won’t—’
Father raised his palm. ‘You’ve always known your own mind. If you say you want to stay, then you stay. Don’t expect us to go carolling together, but I’ll tolerate the man. For you.’
‘He baited you on purpose. He said friends would make him slow, but really, I think he’s scared of people leaving.’ Rosanna adjusted her skirt. Was it normal to be a translator between a parent and a husband? To plead a case for understanding between two people who refused to see eye to eye? ‘I’ve never understood why you rose to it, every time.’
