A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,55
to keep him close. He’s reinvestigating the fire on Saffron Hill. That’s progress, isn’t it?”
Rafe crossed his arms over his chest. “It is indeed. I’d hoped to make further progress with him tonight, but Beatrix ruined the plan with her pickpocketing.”
Beatrix scowled at him, and Selina gave her another sharp look before turning her gaze to Rafe. “What was your plan?”
“One of my men was going to share information I’ve learned with your Runner. The denizens of Saffron Hill were told to say the Vicar set that fire.”
“By whom?”
“That I don’t know yet, but someone who frightens them. If your Runner goes digging, I doubt he’ll strike treasure.”
Selina gave him a level stare. “He’s not my Runner.”
“If you say so.” Rafe unfolded his arms, and the movement made him seem larger than his already imposing presence. He commanded the interior of the coach. If he’d been anyone else, Selina might feel threatened. Perhaps. Long ago, she’d vowed not to let men intimidate her.
“How will you get the information to him now?” Selina asked.
“I spoke to one of my men before we left. He’ll ensure the message is delivered before Sheffield leaves the gardens.”
Selina thought of when Rafe had gone to talk to one of the footmen. “You—and the Vicar—have a loyal following.”
“You remember how important that is. Without it, life expectancy is cut at least in half.”
A shiver ran down Selina’s spine. Perhaps she’d been luckier to escape London than she ever realized. Developing relationships with people was not her strength. She shared loyalty with one person—Beatrix—and wasn’t sure she could handle more than that. Which made her sad. She’d expected her reunion with Rafe to come with the love and trust they’d once shared.
Rafe seemed to know what he’d provoked—the realization that he and Selina were practically strangers. “I’m incredibly sorry we lost touch.”
Selina was too, but she wasn’t going to say so. Not now. Maybe not ever. What good would it do? Always look forward.
“Harry will undoubtedly search for the person who told everyone to lie,” she said, glancing out the window. They were close to Queen Anne Street. “You should continue to investigate. The sooner you clear the Vicar’s name, the better. Though I still think you should just kill him. The Vicar, I mean.”
“I will. Eventually.” Rafe glanced between Selina and Beatrix. “Which one of you will fence the bracelet?”
“I will.” Selina smoothed her hand over her skirt.
“Take it to The Golden Lion on Shoe Lane. They’ll give you a good price.”
Selina arched a brow at him. “Is that yours?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Does it matter?”
She didn’t want to take his money. But this wasn’t a direct transaction, and in this instance, she would accept his…assistance. Finding a fair receiver shop was often difficult, especially in London. “I’ve been going to a few places over in Whitechapel.”
“This will be more profitable. There are several others around Shoe Lane, if you prefer. All will be better than Whitechapel.”
Selina inclined her head as the coach pulled onto Queen Anne Street. “Thank you.”
Rafe unfolded his arms and leaned forward. “I could just give you the money now. Whatever you need.”
Selina paused, but only for a moment. She’d had to rely on herself the past twelve years. After the disaster of trusting someone else—her employer—when she’d worked as a governess, she’d vowed never to do so again. Rafe might be her brother, but she didn’t really know him, and hadn’t for a long time. “No, thank you.”
The coach drew to a stop in front of their house. Rafe reached for the door but didn’t move further. “I won’t offer again, but you need only ask.”
He opened the door and climbed down from the coach. Holding up his hand, he helped her descend, then Beatrix. Selina turned to him. “You should expect an invitation to…something from Lord and Lady Aylesbury.”
“Sheffield’s parents.”
Selina nodded. “Mrs. Hayes—Rachel—will surely want to further interrogate you.”
Amusement crossed Rafe’s features. “I’ll look forward to it. And we’ll speak soon.”
Selina turned and went into the house with Beatrix. As soon as the door closed, Beatrix spoke. “Why won’t you take his money? He clearly has plenty to spare.”
“You know why,” Selina said tersely. “Give me the bracelet.”
Beatrix fished it from her reticule and dropped it into Selina’s hand. “Sorry.”
“Don’t do that again. We have a plan. Stick to it, please.”
Guilt flashed in Beatrix’s eyes. “Yes.”
Selina knew Beatrix couldn’t help herself. Exhaling, she briefly clasped Beatrix’s hand. “I know it’s hard,” she said softly. “Don’t dwell on it. I’ll take