A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,30
sitting on a square table in the corner. “Do you want anything?” Selina asked, pouring a glass of brandy.
“I don’t wish to be left out,” Beatrix said.
Selina poured Madeira, which Beatrix preferred, and handed her the glass. After downing half her brandy, Selina began to prowl the room as nervous anticipatory energy coursed through her.
“You seem agitated. Did something happen?” Beatrix asked. She stood near the settee but didn’t sit, likely because she didn’t want to crease her gown. The coach ride to Hyde Park would add enough wrinkles as it was.
“I spent the last couple of hours in the company of Mr. Sheffield.” Selina sipped her brandy. “We went to Ivy Lane.”
“Ah, and how did Luther do?”
“Better than I could have anticipated. I wasn’t sure his ‘wife’ was going to meet the demands at first, but she came through. They gathered an astonishing number of children, who performed as if they were on the stage,” Selina said with admiration. “I wish I had more coin to give them.”
“Perhaps you’ll receive enough donations to do so.”
Selina pressed her lips together. “We can barely cover all our expenses.” She saw the crease in Beatrix’s brow and sought to soothe her concerns. “Don’t worry, your Season—your goal—is happening.” She began pacing again and tossed back the rest of her brandy. Then she diverted her course and went back to the bottle in the corner. They were in danger of running out of funds, but she wouldn’t tell Beatrix. Not yet.
“It sounds as if your afternoon went well, and yet you’re upset,” Beatrix said. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Selina refilled her glass and turned to Beatrix. “I’d hoped to learn something about the Vicar, but despite being a Bow Street Runner, Sheffield seems no closer to finding the Vicar than I am.”
“It’s rather difficult when no one knows what he looks like,” Beatrix said, cocking her head to the side.
And how frustrating that was. Anytime Selina had asked someone about the Vicar, they simply ended the conversation and walked away. “I’ll find out—we’ll find out. We are formidable when we want something.”
Beatrix chuckled. “That much is true. If we do find him, what then? Are you going to kill him on the spot? You’ve never killed anyone, Selina.” She fell quiet, and the air in the room crackled with old secrets and terrible lies. “Have you?” The question was so small that Selina might not have heard it if she hadn’t seen Beatrix’s lips move.
Not on purpose. Selina sipped the brandy, seeking a fortitude she wasn’t sure she could ever find. The memory had faded to the corners of her mind, pushed to the side so often that she could almost convince herself it wasn’t real. Why hadn’t that happened with the other memory? That one rose in her thoughts unbidden, crippling her in odd moments, when she least expected it.
Because in the first memory, you saved yourself, and in the second, you allowed yourself to be violated.
“Why not let Sheffield handle him?” Beatrix asked, thankfully oblivious to Selina’s dark thoughts. “You could tell Sheffield why you want to find the Vicar. I’m sure it would only strengthen his resolve to know the blackguard killed your brother.”
“No,” Selina said firmly. “Then I’d have to explain how my brother was even involved with that band of criminals, and that would expose us needlessly. Be smart, Beatrix.”
The hurt in Beatrix’s gaze made Selina regret her harsh words. “It seemed you and Sheffield had established a rapport,” Beatrix said. “I thought you could perhaps tell him what you needed to without disclosing your secrets. You’re rather good at that. So good that you still keep some from me.”
Selina felt bad, because they had established a rapport. And her current unease was as much due to her growing friendship with him as it was to her frustration over not finding the Vicar. But she didn’t want to admit that, especially when she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets. “Is there something you want to tell me about an emerald necklace that belongs to Lady Aylesbury?”
Beatrix briefly averted her gaze. “What can I tell you that you don’t already know? I like pretty things.”
“And you just happened to find your way to Lady Aylesbury’s dressing chamber—during the soiree which she was kind enough to invite us to—and accidentally pilfer her jewels?”
Her blonde brows pitching low over her narrowed eyes, Beatrix put a hand on her hip. “You act as if we don’t routinely swindle people who are kind