control of her emotions. “Forget I said anything.” She stood, eager to be on her way.
He also rose, standing close and towering over her. “I’m glad to know you care.” He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek.
A vision of a normal life flashed in Selina’s mind. It didn’t include Luther, but Harry. He worked as a constable while she kept their house and did charity work, helping women and children better themselves through honest means. Not like what she had done. What she continued to do. How much longer could she go on like this? More and more, it seemed there would be a reckoning—and soon.
“Selina?” Luther’s brows drew together as he stroked her face.
She wanted to tell him there would be no future between them, but Luther could be volatile, and she needed him through Friday, at least. How she couldn’t wait for this entire scheme to be over.
She summoned an appreciative smile. “Thank you for helping me. Truly.”
Pivoting, she hurried from the parlor as quickly as she dared, then went out through the front door onto Ivy Lane. Too late, she realized her foolishness. She rarely made mistakes, but when she did, they were often quite large.
This was certainly no exception, for standing across the street staring at her was Harry Sheffield.
Chapter 13
Harry blinked, wondering if he was seeing correctly. But of course he was. He wouldn’t confuse Selina for any other woman. Her face and form were too familiar to him. He saw them even when she wasn’t standing across the street from him.
What the hell was she doing there?
He crossed Ivy Lane, and she met him with a smile.
“What a coincidence to meet you here,” she said. “I just came to deliver another donation. I’m afraid I couldn’t wait until you paid another visit. I was quite moved by their endeavors.” She tipped her head to the side. “What are you doing here? I can’t believe you’re making a donation. I’m still not sure you believe they are a legitimate charity.”
“I’m not making a donation. I came to keep an eye on things because I was not yet convinced of their legitimacy.”
“What do you expect to find?” she asked. “That they’ve left? I assure you, Mr. Winter is just inside. Would you like to speak with him?”
Harry shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I think you may have changed my mind.”
“Have I? You still sound a bit skeptical.”
“My mother plans to bring some friends to see it—on Friday, I think she said. She invited me to come along, but I declined. I don’t want her knowing I’ve already been here.”
“Because then she’d know you’re spying on her activities.”
Harry offered her his arm. “Shall we walk?”
“Please.” She curled her hand around his sleeve and moved next to him, instantly reminding him of why she’d been ever present in his mind since Saturday evening. And before that, really.
“I’m not spying. I’m investigating. Because I care about her.”
“Also because your father asked.” When Harry exhaled sharply, she laughed softly. “You’re trying to be a good son. That’s hard when your parents are at odds. Perhaps you should tell your father to conduct his own investigations. Indeed, perhaps he should accompany your mother on Friday.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Harry should have thought of it himself. “I’ll mention it to him at dinner on Thursday.” He looked at her profile, admiring her beauty—and her heart. “What prompted you to take another donation to Mr. Winter today?”
She didn’t answer immediately, as if she were choosing her words. “As an orphan, I suppose their plight affects me more deeply than most.”
“Surely your situation was different, though.” He felt her stiffen.
“I prefer to leave the past where it belongs—in the past.” She briefly turned her head and flashed a faint smile. He saw the sadness behind it, however.
Placing his hand over hers as they walked, he said, “Selina, I would like to know everything about you. I hope that someday, you’ll tell me about your experience.”
“Perhaps I will.”
Perhaps. That wasn’t a refusal.
Harry decided to change the subject in the hope that she would relax a bit. He could feel the tension running through her. “I learned some things about the fire.”
“You have new information?”
“I do. After you left Spring Hollow, I met with the informer. He told me everyone in Saffron Hill was told to say the Vicar had started the fire.”
She paused briefly. “That’s—that’s astounding. Who would be able to get everyone to say the same thing?”
“I had the same