Page 15 of The Spinster's Secret Scoundrel
Thierry pretended to bow and took a swig of ale. “As I am sure you can imagine, I’m keen to get thousands of pounds’ worth of the finest cognac ever produced out of her storeroom before the morning, when she goes to feed her geese.”
The lie slipped out so easily. No wonder Ada didn’t trust him.
“Pity about that woman.” Caden clucked his tongue. “You couldn’t have picked a worse hiding spot, Thierry.”
“Why?”
Caden swiped his tankard and took a long draw, before saying, “Because her uncle is Patrick Leacham, Excise Officer.”
Shock coursed through Thierry.
No wonder she was so cagey about helping him.
No wonder she was disliked in this town of rampant smuggling.
But then…why had she helped him?
“On the other hand, can you think of a more brilliant hiding place than right under the Excise Officer’s nose?”
Thierry rarely lost his head. He didn’t now.
Until Caden added, “Aye, might’ve been bloody brilliant, if the man weren’t in town this very afternoon.”
Blood drained from his body.Thatwas why Miss Naughton did it! So she had evidence when she turned him in to her uncle.
Well, nobody played the game of double-cross better than Le Fantôme.
ADELINE
HATCHING A PLAN
The knock at her front door startled Ada out of concentration. Her brush slipped, and she licked her thumb to remove a smudge of paint from the pale shell before she set it down with a sigh. Perhaps she could work the errant mark into her design.
“Don’t know why I bother,” she muttered to herself as she locked the door behind her and pocketed the key. Careless of her to let Thierry see her small workroom. She’d been so certain his footfalls would alert her when he awoke. Now he knew her secret: she, too, was in the trade.
Which made her uncle’s appearance on her doorstep that much more of a problem.
“Uncle Patrick!” she cried, feigning joy.
“How are you faring, dear?”
He looked knackered, his cravat loose and crumpled, his face drawn and weary. Ada waved him inside.
“What a pleasant surprise.” Not to mention an anxiety-inducing one. “What brings you this way?”
Guiltily, she thought of the French liquor hidden in her outbuilding and the expensive lace tucked inside her carefully painted eggs. Truly, she didn’t know why she took such pains to make the designs pretty. Most of them were smashed by the buyers to get at the precious contents.
Ada tried to make them easy to take apart—if you gently peeled away the gauze bottoms you could extract the lace while preserving the painted shell—but she knew full well no one was paying for her handiwork. Still, it gave her satisfaction to create something lovely, and the work filled hours of loneliness. Some days, the only creatures she spoke with were the geese.
Two visitors in as many days were almost more than she could take.
“The usual business. Chasing smugglers.” He hung his hat on the back of the very chair to which Ada had tied Thierry yesterday morning. She could hardly believe her own boldness, now. Confronting an intruder. Taking him captive, not that he’d put up much of a fight.
Maybe he enjoyed being tied up.
The perversity of her own thoughts in the presence of her uncle sent fire to her cheeks.
“Caught a ship at sea. TheSpectre. Had a good tip that she was hauling stolen brandy, but when the Waterguard boarded her, the only thing we found was a quarter-barrel of rum, nigh empty.” He grimaced. “Spent the night searching along the shore for any signs of an escape boat.”
