A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,73

settling on the truth of your capability.” She took a step back. “Come upstairs.”

He arched his brow at her. “If you insist.”

“I do.” Her lips curved into a seductive smile, and Harry couldn’t refuse. Nor did he want to.

She took his hand and led him into the house. No, he wasn’t a hermit any longer. He just hoped it would last.

Chapter 15

Portraying Madame Sybila outside the confines of her small closet where she could reside in shadow and mostly sit made Selina anxious. To reduce the opportunity for mishap, she’d arranged to meet Lady Aylesbury and her friends at the Home for Wayward Children. That had allowed her to get into her costume at the home and then await their arrival.

She’d augmented her usual disguise by applying heavy cosmetics under the veil, including the addition of a larger nose. Over the years, she and Beatrix had accumulated a variety of implements to change their appearance. Her veil wasn’t quite as thick as usual—she needed to see where she was going—but she also wore a hat with a wide brim to further shadow her face. Finally, she’d added a walking stick, which Luther had procured for her, both to help with navigation and to complete the disguise.

“I can’t even tell if you’re a woman beneath that,” Luther remarked as Selina emerged from one of the upstairs chambers in her full disguise.

She tapped her walking stick. “Good, that’s entirely the point.”

“That I should think you’re a man?” He grinned.

Selina flipped up the veil so she could find her way down the stairs—and so she could ask him about what Harry had told her. Because Luther’s real last name was Frost.

“Luther, what business do you have in Saffron Hill?”

His smile faded. “If you want to lecture me about changing my life again, don’t bother.”

“Did you take over Partridge’s interests?” She couldn’t quite bring herself to ask if he’d started the fire, knowing it had killed innocent people.

“Not entirely, no.” He moved toward her, his features dark. “We all do what we must to survive, Lina. You know that.”

Yes, she did. Just as she knew she was struggling with that more than ever.

“Come on, you need to get downstairs.” Surprisingly, he didn’t offer her his arm. Good, because she didn’t want his help. After his flirtation the other day and now this…tension, she felt awkward being around him.

Adding to the apprehension caused by both her disguise and Luther was the fact that Beatrix was probably even now pilfering something from Mrs. Mapleton-Lowther’s house. Since the woman was about to arrive here, Beatrix had convinced Selina that it would be a good time to sneak into her home and remove the very spectacular brooch she’d told Madame Sybila about during their last meeting.

It was a risky endeavor, but opportunity didn’t always provide for the most lucrative results. This brooch would earn a hefty price that would bring them much closer to their goal so that they wouldn’t have to worry about how to fund the rest of Beatrix’s Season.

Selina descended the stairs, and as she reached the entry, she heard voices outside. She quickly brought the veil down over her face. Turning, she asked Luther if he was ready.

“I am, and so is everyone else.”

Except Theresa. She’d been drunk again today, and Selina had made Luther take her somewhere else lest she ruin the entire enterprise.

There was a rap on the door, and Luther answered it promptly. “Good afternoon. Welcome to the Home for Wayward Children.” He held the door wide as more than a half dozen women filed in.

Selina couldn’t really make anyone out, but she knew the attendees included Harry’s mother and sisters—though how many or which ones, she didn’t know—Lady Balcombe, and Mrs. Mapleton-Lowther. At least she hoped Mrs. Mapleton-Lowther was there. If she’d stayed home, it would likely wreak merry hell on Beatrix’s plan.

“Madame Sybila, you’re here,” Lady Aylesbury said. She came close enough that Selina was certain it was her. “Do you need assistance?” She seemed to glance at Selina’s walking stick.

“No, thank you,” Selina said in her French accent. She hunched her shoulders slightly to change her stature.

“Welcome to the Home for Wayward Children,” Luther said again, this time more loudly. “Let us gather in the parlor.” He motioned for everyone to move into the front room that looked out to Ivy Lane.

Selina took up a position near the door, moving as little as possible, and listened to Luther deliver his address.

“My wife and I started this home by