set down the latter on the table near the window. He joined her there and dipped his hand into the water.
“Thank you.” He glanced over at her as he cleaned the soot away. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Not at all.”
“It’s all right if you miss your husband.”
She shook her head. “That’s not it. I—I don’t really know. This is rather domestic.” The pink returned to her cheeks, but lighter this time.
He could see what she meant. He could easily envision him performing this sort of task for her if they shared a home. If they were married.
And he didn’t dislike the notion at all. He suddenly understood her discomfort. This was not what they wanted—according to both of them. Despite that, they were both affected.
Harry dried his hand and did his best to wipe the soot from his sleeve. He set the towel in the basin when he finished. “Thank you.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Thank you.”
“I’m happy to perform any task you require.” He fixed his gaze on her. “Any task.”
“That is good to know.”
Heat and longing seemed to gather between them. If he stayed another moment, he wasn’t sure what might happen. Best to hasten his departure. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Harry picked up his hat and gloves on his way out. It was time to banish the hermit.
Chapter 10
She must have been a very good wife.
Harry’s words rang in her ears long after he departed. Just as his kiss was still imprinted on her lips.
Harry. She could hardly think of him as Mr. Sheffield after the way they’d kissed.
She went to pick up the basin and towel. Looking at the objects he’d used to clean up and thinking of his assistance eliminated an invisible barrier—or so it seemed to her. She brought the towel and brought it to her face, inhaling the barest fragrance of his masculine scent.
“What are you doing?”
Dropping the towel into the basin, Selina spun around to see Beatrix standing just inside the doorway. “Tidying up after Mr. Sheffield. He unstuck the flue.”
Beatrix went to the fireplace. “Wonderful! How helpful of him.”
Indeed. The entire episode had shown Selina a future she couldn’t quite comprehend: a happy domesticity that didn’t seem at all right for a woman who’d once been a thief in London’s East End. And who continued to commit criminal acts, even if she had begun to completely loathe them.
“Yes, he was pleased to provide assistance,” Selina said.
“Is that all he provided?”
“I’m not sure what you’re hinting at, but yes. Would you do me a favor and take this to the kitchen?” Selina handed her the basin with the towel and hoped Beatrix would forget about whatever she was hoping to discover.
“Certainly.” Beatrix took the items and left the sitting room.
Selina exhaled with relief. She couldn’t tell her about the kiss, not when it had been incredibly foolish considering how committed Harry was to uncovering the truth about Madame Sybila’s activities. His visit to the perfumery earlier had shown her just how much. It seemed all the tension—his irritation with the fortune-teller and her frustration at being trapped in a cage of her own making—that had built during their interview in Madame Sybila’s closet could no longer be contained. Or perhaps that was only how it felt to her. Most likely, since he had no idea she was Madame Sybila.
His appearance at The Ardent Rose had surprised her, at least a little. She’d expected him to return at some point, but not this soon. His anger and frustration with her—with Madame Sybila—had been palpable. He hated that he’d been foiled or that his assumptions had been wrong.
Only they weren’t. She was every bit the fraud he thought her to be. There was no charity. And she’d stacked those three bloody cards before he’d come in, with the intention of drawing them in just that way if the conversation had turned contentious.
And it had.
Though it could be so much worse. He’d asked to see her without the veil. She nearly cracked a smile in the mirror. But it wasn’t amusing. If he ever found out she was Madame Sybila, she wasn’t sure what he would do.
The agitation she felt intensified. Because he would find out. He would continue his investigation until he saw beneath the veil. He was still focused on a four-year-old fire, for heaven’s sake!
The revelation that he’d lost someone—a woman—had surprised her completely. That explained his inability to let it go, his determination to bring the Vicar, whom he had been