Page 18 of Once More, My Darling Rogue
“You were recommended.”
She tilted up her chin. “By whom?”
“I don’t remember the names.”When lying, keep the lies as honest as possible. Don’t create a lie that requires you remember something.“You came with letters of reference.”
She shoved herself away from the bed, balled her hands into tightened fists, and jerked up her chin. “As they aren’t in my bedchamber, as there is nothing in that hideously ill-furnished room that feels at all familiar, I assume you have these letters of which you speak. I should like to see them.”
“They’re in my office at the club.”
“Fetch them.”
He ground his back teeth together. “It is not your place to order me about.”
“But they might assist me in remembering.”
“Has it occurred to you that there may be a reason you don’t want to remember?” Even as he asked the words, it struck him that perhaps they held more truth than he’d intended. Except for a few bruises, physically she appeared fine. The lump on her head hadn’t drawn blood, so how hard could something have truly hit her?
Gnawing on her lower lip, she appeared innocent, almost sweet. Her shoulders softened, her back relaxed. “Why was I in the river?”
“I don’t know.” Honesty.
“How did you know I was there?”
“I was taking a walk. I saw a form huddled at the water’s edge. I didn’t know it was you until I brought you to the residence. You were coated in mud.” Truth.
She shuddered. “Yes, I remember that, washing off the awful stuff.” She furrowed her brow. “Obviously we weren’t being robbed, as there is nothing here of value, so I wasn’t running from a thief. Would someone wish me harm?”
“I shouldn’t think so, but then there is a good bit about you that I don’t know.”A good deal that I do know, but that is to be revealed tomorrow.
She wandered to the window, gazed out onto the street. He wasn’t concerned with anyone spying her, identifying her. This part of London was not frequented by those of her station in life. “It all seems so strange. I just don’t feel as though I belong here.”
“Again, wishful thinking.”
“Perhaps.” She faced him. “We do seem to keep going over the same ground, don’t we? Isn’t it the sign of madness to keep asking the same question and expecting a different answer?”
“You’re not mad.”
“Perhaps I am and all this is simply an illusion. Will you retrieve the letters?”
“Tonight, when I go to the club.”
“When do you return?”
“Generally I stay out all night. Yesterday was an exception. So I’ll be here sometime after dawn tomorrow.”
Scowling, she twisted her lips into a moue of displeasure. “But that’s hours away.”
“Nothing will change between now and then.”
“Except I might remember. I could go to the club—”
“No.” That would result in disaster. If anyone saw her ... a good many of the members knew her. “That’s not possible.”
“You’re a rather harsh employer.”
“You’re my servant, Phee. I’m striving to get some sleep here so I can see to my responsibilities tonight. You should be seeing to your duties now. I’ll bring you the letters in the morning. Meanwhile, leave.”
“What is the name of your club?”
