Page 19 of The Spinster's Secret Scoundrel
“With Miss Adeline Naughton. Or was. She had visitors this evening.”
The old woman blanched. “Not Leacham’s niece? The one in Prescott’s old gardener’s cottage?”
“The same.”
Leacham’s niece?Thierry kept his reaction to this information to himself. Those horses grazing in Ada’s side yard…they’d belonged to the Riders.
“I don’t know whether that’s admirably bold or absurdly foolish of you. Both, probably.” She set the expensive bottle aside and opened a decanter, pouring them each a generous portion. “Typical of Le Fantôme. What do you make of that Naughton girl? Tongue-tied, poor thing. Shy.”
“She is?” Thierry coughed. Ada had been anything but shy with him. Direct and prone to violence, but far from reticent. “I mean, yes, she is.”
Mrs. Gosling cast him a thoughtful glance. “The entire town keeps her at arms’ length. It’s hardly a secret her uncle sent her to spy on us. Three years since she arrived, and we’ve all taken great care not to alert her to our activities. Helps that she doesn’t come into the village proper very much.”
“What about the painted eggs she sells?”
“The what?”
“Miss Naughton likes to attract the village geese,” he explained.
“Oh, of course. I assumed she needed the eggs for food.” The canny old woman tapped her lower lip thoughtfully. “It seems she’ll be moving on soon,” Mrs. Gosling said with satisfaction.
“Why is that?”
Thierry did not have the impression that Ada wished to leave. It was hard to envision her anywhere but her cheerful little cottage. He thought of the yearning in her voice when she spoke of being unwanted in town.
“Because the viscount is planning to sell the property once she vacates it in June. I understand that Leacham declined to renew the lease.”
“Ah.”
Thierry’s one-word reaction belied the certainty that jolted him like a lightning strike. He’d been looking for a property, and Cavalier Cove was the perfect place for a gentleman to keep his hand in the game while setting himself up with a family. Having seen the interior of the house, he knew its condition. Shabby, but solid. It could be improved. The garden was well-tended. Prescott might be willing to part with the oddly-located cottage for a bargain price.
As for where the duplicitous Adeline Naughton would go next once he bought her home right out from under her, it was naught his concern.
* * *
Afterward,Thierry made his way to the Ram’s Head, where he took a room for the night. Whispers of the Riding Officers’ whereabouts flew like the wind. In the tavern, Thierry learned that Leacham and his men had visited the Cock and Bull to interrogate Caden. He’d missed the men by minutes.
One of these days, Thierry’s luck was going to run out. He didn’t plan to give up smuggling entirely—it was too profitable a venture—but he did have every intention of settling into a more staid existence.
After a visit to the viscount the next morning, the coin jingling in his pocket was no longer enough to satisfy his debt to Miss Naughton. As far as Thierry was concerned, he no longer owed her the full amount he’d promised. She’d lied to him, if only by omission. Despite his fluency in two languages, he couldn’t find words for how that knowledge made him feel.
Uncomfortable. Foolish. Betrayed—although why had she waved at him to keep moving last night, if she intended to turn him over to her uncle?
She wanted the money. Thierry wanted an explanation.
He took a more direct path through the fields rather than going by the winding road. There was nothing to identify him by his chosen profession, but Thierry hadn’t made it to the ripe old age of twenty-eight by being careless. Calculated risks were one thing; he had no way of knowing whether Ada had turned him in to her uncle.
He needed to see her, either way.
The Excise Officers knew he was in the area. The Waterguard had chased his ship halfway across the Channel. Le Fantôme knew how to disappear…and when to stay hidden.
Thierry who got caught by geese and fearsome maidens had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.
He caught sight of Miss Naughton angrily sweeping her front stoop and halted mid-stride. Backlit by the morning sun, her long hair tied back in a loose braid tumbling over her shoulders, wearing a creamy dress, Adeline was stunning. Thierry’s throat closed. She glanced up, frowned, and swept harder, turning her back.
Not happy to see him, then. Ice touched his spine.
“If you haven’t come back with my money, then don’t come back at all,” she called over her shoulder.
