Page 22 of My Kind of Scoundel
While a gnawing sense of remorse filled Theo’s chest, Daventry said, “Did he hurt you?”
Miss Darrow winced. “A little.”
Theo shot out of the chair. “You should have told me.” He ripped off his hat and thrust his hand through his hair. “I would have returned the box and helped you defeat this devil.”
She looked up at him with a sad expression, her eyes glistening like dew on a meadow. “I’m used to fending for myself. It’s hard to know who to trust.” Her gaze fell to her lap, a silent testament to the trials she must have endured.
Though the situation was not as harrowing as seeing Aaron hurt as a child, it pained Theo to know Miss Darrow had suffered while he’d been sleeping peacefully in his bed.
“I promised to deliver the note this evening.” She looked at the mantel clock and seemed relieved it was only midday. “He insisted I bring it personally and said there must be no more mistakes. I’m to place it inside the book he left in the shed and deliver it to the travelling library at six o’clock.”
“The travelling library?” Daventry narrowed his gaze. “You speak of Mr Pickering’s elegant wagon? Only the wealthy can afford to pay for his services.”
“Pickering used to call at Fortune’s Den before my brother Christian moved to Ludgate Hill.” Theo returned to his seat. From his recollection, Pickering would move mountains to please his prestigious customers. “The fellow sourced rare books on Ancient Egypt. It saved Christian endless hours of research.”
“Do you always deliver the villain’s notes to Pickering?” Daventry said.
Miss Darrow nodded. “I hide them beneath a paper bookplate I glue to the inside cover.”
Theo found that odd. “Why does the villain not hide itthere himself? Then you would have no need to handle the note.”
“Because he has been known to change his mind.” She paled and clutched her hand to her chest. “I woke to find he had been in my bedchamber. He left instructions to say I must deliver a different note. So I can only imagine he does not wish to deface the book.”
“The devil broke into your house?” Theo could barely sit still. When he caught the miscreant, he would wring his damn neck. “When?”
“A month before you were shot outside my shop.”
He could understand why Miss Darrow thought the armed thugs had come to kidnap her and not Delphine. The lady was up to her neck in the mire. Now it was up to him to ensure she didn’t sink.
“You have an obvious problem,” he said, though it was one of many. “I see no sign of the book. How are you supposed to deliver the note at six this evening?”
“I pray it is still at the shop.”
Daventry stood abruptly and snatched the paper with the barrow boy’s direction. “I’ll catch D’Angelo before he leaves and have him visit the boy. While I’m gone, decide if you wish to open the letters or use them as bait.”
Daventry departed.
Barely a second passed before a subtle intimacy enveloped them, one born from their shared goal. This unspoken connection prompted Theo to reach out, his hand finding hers, offering a reassuring squeeze that spoke of their newfound bond.
“We will fix this, and you will dress the ladies of thetonagain. I give you my word.” He looked at the box and the three letters resting on the burgundy velvet. “Who do theother notes belong to? You must tell me the truth. You mustn’t be afraid to confess your darkest secrets.”
Miss Darrow glanced at their joined hands. He expected her to tug hers free, but she did not. “It must be comforting to be part of a large family. There’s always someone there to ensure you remain on the right path. Someone to tell you your decisions are foolhardy.”
Yes, his brothers did not mince words.
“Is there anyone I might contact on your behalf?” Was there someone in the world who cared about her? A parent or sibling? “A person you trust enough to help you with this matter?”
Her gaze rose to meet his. Though she smiled, he knew the look of loneliness in a woman’s eyes. “There is no one, Mr Chance. My parents are dead.” There was a tinge of guilt in her tone, as if she had been the one to slay them. “It’s just me, battling the world alone.”
“No. We are battling this fiend together.”
She swallowed deeply and pursed her lips like she might cry. “Which goes to prove one cannot foretell the future. I’ll never forget how you looked at me all those weeks ago when you stormed into the yard. I pray I never disappoint anyone like that again.”
I can tolerate many things, Miss Darrow, but never deceit.
I’ll not trust another word from your lips.
The crux of his anger had stemmed from his fears for Delphine.
