A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,34

a position to finally secure her and Beatrix’s futures. Though it might be Beatrix wouldn’t need her help, not if she got what she came here for.

“Why not just kill the Vicar now?” Selina asked.

Rafe cracked a small smile. “Because he runs a very lucrative moneylending business.”

“An illegal one, from what I hear.”

He cocked his head, his hand gripping his tankard. “Not anymore. I used to charge higher interest than the banks, but I’ve lowered my rates in the past several months. None of that matters at the present. I don’t need Sheffield breathing down my neck as I try to transition to a respectable life. As you have on Queen Anne Street. Lady Gresham, eh? Did you actually marry?”

“No. Sir Barnabus Gresham was kind enough to allow me to use his name, despite the fact that I’d stolen a hundred pounds from him.”

Rafe blew out a whistle. “Did he not know?”

“Oh, he knew. And he let me keep it. Barney is a nice man.” Selina winced through the regret piercing her chest. “Was. I’m sure he’s passed on by now. He became rather ill.”

“Here I thought you were an accomplished charlatan.” His smirk told her he was jesting, but Selina wanted to make sure he knew exactly who she was.

“I am Selina Blackwell and Lady Gresham and Madame Sybila, and anyone else I need to be. That Sir Barnabus learned I’d stolen from him was entirely my choice, and it’s worked out rather well, thank you.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but Selina had learned long ago that the truth was vastly overrated. And almost always unnecessary. Furthermore, the truth made one vulnerable. Selina would avoid that at all costs.

He surveyed her with admiration. “See? I said you were good at identities.”

She began to feel more comfortable around him, but there was still so much they needed to share if they were going to regain their bond. She wondered if he would reveal his secrets, or if, like her, he’d learned to bury himself so deep that sometimes even he wasn’t sure where to find his true self. “Why did you kill Partridge?”

“Because he was a vile, evil man.” The hatred in his eyes sparked a fear Selina had rarely encountered.

She knew when not to prod a sleeping beast. “So you want to straddle the polite world and that of the Vicar. I have earned Sheffield’s trust—in my endeavors to protect my interests. If you didn’t set the flash house on fire, all we have to do is find out who did, and he’ll leave you alone. He wants justice for that crime. I don’t suppose you know who did it?”

Rafe shook his head. “Honestly, I didn’t really care. I killed Partridge, but the building was quite intact when I stole away from the back. When I learned it burned down, it gave me the opportunity to kill Rafe. I would have been the presumptive leader of Partridge’s gang. I didn’t want that. Whoever set that fire made it easy for me to leave. Why does Sheffield care so much about an old fire?”

“Because innocents died,” she said quietly, thinking that could so easily have been her and Rafe years ago.

Rafe sat back, sprawling in the chair. It was a familiar position he’d often adopted in their youth. Selina couldn’t help smiling.

“What?” Rafe asked.

Selina shook her head. “It’s strange being with you. You’re a stranger, and yet familiar.”

“I was thinking the same.” His eyes found hers, that orange blemish—no, not a blemish, that mark of fire she’d always thought had given him his courage—burning as he looked at her. “You still have that mole behind your ear along your hairline.”

Lifting her hand behind her left ear, she stroked the location of the mole. “How can you see that?”

“I looked very closely as we walked here.”

“Confirming I was really me?”

His lips spread in a grin that she’d longed to see for eighteen years. “Perhaps.”

“So, let’s find out who really set that fire. Then Sheffield will leave you alone.”

“I’ll look into it.” His eyes narrowed slightly, and she could tell he was thinking.

“What?”

He shook his head, blinking. “Nothing, just contemplating.”

“Conspiring,” she said.

He didn’t respond to her comment. “How will you get him to leave you, or rather Madame Sybila, alone?” He straightened and leaned slightly toward her.

“I’m taking care of that.” She suddenly realized part of coming back to London to find Rafe had been to show him that she’d managed quite well on her own—much as Beatrix was trying to