for himself and his kin, the less likely he is to succumb to vice or villainy.”
“And because the Vicar once did the same for you?” Her gaze, as her assessment, was frank and open, and Morley wanted to shrink from it.
This was what he’d come here to tell her. Whom he’d come to introduce her to.
So why now did he hesitate?
Because he’d always had the upper hand in this relationship, he realized. It wasn’t comfortable to give her something she could wield against him.
Across from him, the daylight slanted into slick iridescent blues glimmering from the absolute darkness of her hair. “You told me once that you’d grown up with the accent you used as the Knight of Shadows,” she said. “The same accent the Vicar has, and everyone here.”
“So I did.”
“Farah mentioned you had secrets…and the Vicar, he called you Cutter.”
His heart erupted into chaos as he watched her braid the strings of his past together without him saying a word.
“Is that your name? Cutter. Are you the penitent thief?”
He retreated back toward the window, watching as the years fell away between that time and this. A blond boy stood on a corner with his black-haired friend, assessing which pockets would be full. Which punters would be easily fleeced.
“It’s who I was,” he admitted reluctantly, staring into the hard, hard eyes of that boy in his past. Eyes that’d seen nothing but oppression and desperation, set into a face that only knew the touch of another human being as a quick box to the ears or a heavy punch to the face. A body thinned with ever-present hunger and strengthened by hardship and labor.
Deadeye.
“I was a pickpocket and thief bound for a prison cell until one night…” He hesitated as the boy on the street corner lifted his finger to his cracked lips to hush him.
Don’t tell her. Don’t trust her.
But…what if she could understand where he’d come from? What he’d lost.
What he’d done.
What if his admission repulsed and terrified her? What if she told? She’d have the final secret. One that could rip his entire life to shreds and dump him right back into the gutter.
If he didn’t hang for it.
“One night…the Vicar took me in and gave me a place to stay when I had none,” he explained lamely, vaulting over the most important parts. “He was the one who nudged me to reinvent myself through documents I’d receive when joining Her Majesty’s Regiment. And upon my return from war, he handed me the paper wherein there was an advertisement for men of my physical build and prowess to wear the uniform of the London Metropolitan Police.” He sent her what he hoped was an unconvincing smile. “The rest, as they say, is history.”
“That was truly wonderful of him,” she murmured, extrapolating what she could from his vague memoir. “And so you repay him for his kindness with a monthly stipend?”
Morley seized upon the opportunity to distract her from the entire conversation.
“I give him the entirety of my salary as Chief Inspector,” he revealed.
She visibly blanched, her mouth falling open as she gaped at him as if he’d ripped off his skin to reveal a demon. “But…but…how do you…?” Good breeding caused her to shy away from conversations about money. To know a man’s work, even one’s husband, might be considered vulgar. He pinpointed the moment she made peace with that vulgarity.
“I always wondered how you, even on a Chief Inspector’s salary, could afford such a lofty address,” she said. “Even my father has mentioned his government pay wouldn’t cover food for our horses, let alone our houses. He’s always implied our money comes from his land and shipping company.”
His lips compressed ruefully. He was still looking into where exactly her father’s wealth came from.
“Then…what about you, husband?” It was her turn to stare out the window. “If you were raised in these gutters and went straight from the army to the police, then how did you amass enough of a fortune to speak for me, without a need for my dowry? Dare I ask if you are a thief still? If the money you pay to the church is penance?”
“Actually,” he said, becoming rather amused. “I suppose I did thieve a bit when making my fortune.”
She did her best not to look appalled, and almost pulled it off. “You didn’t!”
“Don’t fret, I only stole information.”
She leaned forward as if entranced. “Tell me.”
“Once I was back from the army, I would be asked to go to exhibitions