Page 27 of The Spinster's Secret Scoundrel
“Is this about the money again, kitten? I told you I would get it—”
Ada blanched. “Don’t call me that,” she seethed. “I’m not your pathetic little puss, you—youhouse-thief!”
“If I’d known you were off to buy a property this morning, Ada, I’d have told you.”
“Is that where my money went?” she demanded through bared teeth. “You used the money you owed me to buy my own cottage right out from under me?”
Considering that was precisely what he’d done, Thierry had no possible excuse for his behavior. For the first time in his life, his gift for talking his way out of any situation failed him utterly.
“I’m sorry.”
She inhaled sharply. Her face drained of color, and all the fight went out of her in an instant. It was the worst thing Thierry had ever witnessed—and he was the villain.
“I would have told you,” he insisted.
“I don’t believe you.” Her gaze darted anxiously around at the people gathering to witness this horrid scene.
“Marry me, Ada. We’ll live there together, husband and wife—”
He supposed he deserved her rolled eyes and groan of frustration, yet Thierry’s pride was nonetheless stung. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned delivering his first, and possibly only, marriage proposal. He’d imagined more swooning and a breathlessyes.
Adeline Naughton never did anything he expected. He loved that about her.
“I love you,” he blurted out. Someone in the audience gasped and clapped. Ada did not.
“Another pretty lie,” she choked out. “Impulsive, useless…” Ada dragged in a deep, ragged breath, and growled, “Scoundrel.”
Just when the situation could not possibly get worse, the bell over the tavern door jingled and in strode four men. Three Riding Officers accompanied by a gray-templed Excise Officer.
“Ada?” the uniformed man said, clearly taken aback.
If Thierry thought she’d gone pale before, this was like watching her life drain right out of her body. His heart clenched. She might not believe him—yet—but he did care about her. He’d never intended to hurt her. Thierry had simply carried on the way he’d always done.
Selfishly.
He’d been utterly selfish for years. But he couldn’t continue gallivanting about, acting like a tomcat and running from the law, if he wanted to protect Ada. He was going to have to change his ways.
Had he realized this sooner, he could have at least spared Miss Naughton’s feelings. As things stood, he wasn’t liable to get a chance to apologize before he was whisked away to face the hangman.
“Uncle Patrick? What are—”
Ada broke off, almost as though she were physically choking on words. Their gazes met and clashed briefly. Thierry read guilt, sorrow, and shame in her big brown eyes—as well as something else. Fear.
The head officer barely acknowledged his niece. Instead, he did a double-take before his thin lips curved upward into a calculating grin. “Seize him. Thierry Desmarais, you are under arrest for your role in sinking the—”
“No!”
Ada’s protest rang in his ears as the three men tackled him. Thierry didn’t bother to resist physically. He knew when he was outmatched.
“I’m afraid you have the wrong man,” he said calmly. If one last lie, spoken with confidence, could spare him from justice, then he would lie like a damned rug.
Leacham cast him a bemused glance. The other three men regarded him with astonished disbelief. One man smirked as he moved closer to Ada. She stood stock-still. Frozen.
“Indeed. I am Thomas Davies of Newcastle upon Tyne.” He deliberately chose the most distant city he could think of, all the way in Northumbria. “Yesterday morning I came to an agreement with Viscount Prescott to purchase a cottage here in Cavalier Cove. His lordship will vouch for my identity.”
“Cause he’s a dirty rotten smuggler, like everyone here,” grumbled one of his captors.
“Are you slandering your betters, Rider?” Thierry said. The man blanched.
