Page 16 of The Spinster's Secret Scoundrel
“Did you find anything?” Ada asked tightly. She brought him a plate of bread and jam with butter, and set water to boil for tea before remembering it was an extravagance she shouldn’t be able to afford. She’d served it to Thierry without thinking.
Uncle Patrick shook his graying head despondently. “Nothing. Again. Three years I’ve been working to take down this nest. Can’t crack it. I know they’re here. Viscount Prescott swears he’s in the process of rooting the bastards out. I have my doubts.” He ducked his chin. “With apologies for my language. Have you heard from my sister recently?”
Ada shook her head. Her parents had disowned their awkward, scandal-plagued daughter. She had five other siblings, all of them married, with grandchildren for her parents to dote upon. They didn’t need or want her.
“I don’t understand it. What happened wasn’t your fault, Ada. You mustn’t believe that.”
“I don’t,” she said quickly. A lie. Itwasher fault for being so stupid. She took full responsibility. Letting Amos push up her skirts in a field on a bright afternoon when they were supposed to be out driving had been the biggest mistake of her life, but she’d wanted it.
Later, he claimed it was a test of her virtue. One she’d failed.
Couldn’t deny that.
A lump formed in her throat. She hated lying to her uncle, the one person who’d helped her during a terrible time. He deserved better than a deceitful niece.
“Men trick women aren’t worth your time, Ada. Disgraceful, how he never took responsibility for his part in the debacle. Your father should have marched him to the altar at the end of a pistol.”
“I glad he didn’t. What kind of marriage would it have been?”
“A legal one,” he snapped, as if the only thing that mattered was whether or not she was wed, and not all the years that came after the ceremony.
Ada tried to shift the conversation away from her history, which her uncle never missed an opportunity to remind her of.
“Uncle Patrick…I was hoping…” Swallowing, Ada mustered all her courage and forced herself to relax. “I was thinking I might be able to…if my father were to grant me my marriage portion, combined with the money I have saved, whether it might be enough to—to—”
Whenever she got flustered, words froze in her throat. That day when Amos had visited to beg off, and her father called her into his study to berate her, not a single syllable of defense had crossed her lips.Many couples do it. The banns were to be posted on Sunday. What of his virtue? Why am I the only one to suffer consequences?
All those bad feelings rose up now, choking her.
“Spit it out, girl.”
Ada blurted her most heartfelt wish in a whisper. “Buy the cottage.”
Uncle Patrick’s flinty eyes shone with emotion she couldn’t interpret. She could never read people’s feelings, even when she knew them well.
Except for Thierry. He was an open book.
Strange, considering he was also renowned for his exploits evading representatives of the Excise Office, both on land and at sea. One might think he’d be a bit more dishonest.
You’re giving him too much credit. He’s a very good liar who mixes in enough truth to make you believe anything he says. He promised to pay you when he didn’t have the money.
Around him, she could express herself without wondering whether she was about to trip over a delicate sensibility or accidentally cause offense, the way she did around other people. Still, Ada knew she shouldn’t expect him to return with what he owed her. She should tell Uncle Patrick where to find his quarry. Tonight. Now.
If Uncle Patrick found out she was harboring the most notorious smuggler in Cornwall, he would turn her out of this cottage straightaway.
“You’d have to speak with Prescott about selling. He’s an upstanding sort. Fair-minded.” He scraped back his chair. “I have to say, I’m disappointed that you’ve gained such little intelligence in the time you’ve been here, Ada. I have precious little to show for my investment. I’m afraid that once your lease is up at the end of June, I cannot justify the renewal.”
A chill washed through her. “So soon?” she breathed. Barely six weeks away. Shemusthave the money Thierry promised. She would write to her father this afternoon to request her dowry. Some of it. Any of it. Perhaps it might be sufficient to…
Rent the cottage for another year or two.
What would she do, then?
Returning to her parents’ home was unappealing at best—if they would even let her come back. Living with one of her siblings’ families would make her an unpaid nursemaid, dependent upon their largesse. Ada did not hold great faith in her brothers’ and sisters’ generosity.
Almost as though he could read her mind, Uncle Patrick rose and tugged the hem of his jacket straight.
“I might be persuaded to assist you with convincing your father to give you your fair portion if I were to capture Le Fantôme.”
