Passionate Secrets (The Secrets Trilogy Book 2) (4 page)

“Do you have other...prospects?” Despite his suspicion of her, he couldn’t allow her to leave like this. Not when she was so obviously distraught. Not when memories of better days floated in the back of his mind.

She turned back reluctantly. “Not yet. I’m certain I’ll be able to find something soon.”

He might’ve believed her if she’d said it with more confidence. Apparently she had no additional openings to apply for as her aura showed him nothing. He could only see auras when a person had an immediate intent.

“This position was very important to you, wasn’t it?”

She sighed and gave a small shake of her head, making him feel as if she thought he couldn’t possibly understand what it had meant to her. “It was a promising opportunity with generous compensation.”

Michael hesitated, considering the meager information he’d been provided along with her address. Based on the location of her family’s flat, it seemed they were in dire need of income. The neighborhood was rough, many of the residents one step away from a workhouse.

“If it’s money you need—”

Her pale cheeks flushed as the spark returned to her eyes. “I did not come here to beg for money.”

He held up his hand, amazed at her prickliness. “I’m well aware of that. You came here to call in a nonexistent debt.” He couldn’t help but remind her of the small deceit.

Her gaze dropped at his rebuke. “I only—”

“May I make some inquiries to see if any of my acquaintances are in need of a governess?” This was the perfect excuse for him to keep an eye on her and contact her again. He told himself he needed to remain in touch for no other reason than to see exactly what she and her uncle were up to.

“That is kind of you. Thank you.” Her expression held little hope that he’d come through with his offer.

Had so many let her down that she no longer took people at their word? It seemed he’d struck upon one thing they had in common.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” she said.

For one brief moment, those large brown eyes looked up at him, holding him with their intensity. Everything else fell away as he held her gaze. His breath caught as awareness sizzled through him like an electric current.

Her lips parted as she gave a tiny gasp before dropping his gaze, the glare of spectacles preventing him from seeing her eyes. “I must be on my way,” she mumbled and spun away.

“Wait!” He had the strangest urge to keep her with him, to see where that sizzle might lead.

She paused in the doorway but didn’t look at him. “Yes?”

He gave himself a mental shake. What on earth was wrong with him? He was allowing memories of better times to affect his thinking. She might be concocting some scheme with her uncle at this very moment.

“How will I reach you if I find a suitable position?” he asked, wondering if she’d tell him the truth.

Still, she didn’t look at him. “I’ll leave my address with your butler.” Then she closed the door behind her.

He stood there until he heard the front door shut then walked to the window where he watched her hurry away as though hounds snapped at her heels.

Surely it was only simple curiosity that caught his interest.

~*~

Emma stabbed at the broadcloth with her needle, wishing she had a better outlet for her frustration.

“Dear, perhaps you should allow me to finish that.” Her mother’s soft words made her feel even worse.

She closed her eyes, attempting to calm her roiling emotions. What she really wanted to do was throw herself on her bed and have a good cry. But with no bed to call her own, she couldn’t even have that small indulgence. Instead, she sat in the meager light of the window, trying to assist her mother with the pile of mending she’d taken in. Every pence they gained was precious right now.

“I’m sorry. I suppose I’m more disappointed that I didn’t obtain the position than I realized,” she murmured. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she ripped out the uneven stitches in the seam of the jacket determined to try again.

“Well, of course you are,” her mother said in a no-nonsense voice. “Who wouldn’t be? The trick is to cast your thoughts toward your next endeavor.”

Emma knew she treaded a fine line between being truthful to both herself and her family about their situation and hopeful that everything would work out. She studied her mother’s calm countenance. Did she know Tessa was coughing up blood? Emma knew Tessa would make every effort to hide it from their mother. Even as she opened her mouth to ask, a soft moan from the bedroom caught her attention.

Her mother’s worried gaze slid to hers. Emma ventured to guess that at the very least, she knew Tessa’s condition was worsening.

Emma set aside her mending and rushed into the bedroom. “Tessa?”

Her sister lay on her side and opened weary eyes to look at her. Her breathing sounded raspy, her face pale.

“Is it bad?” she whispered. But Emma saw Tessa’s answer in her frightened eyes.

Tessa didn’t respond. Her attention seemed completely taken by drawing her next breath.

Emma swallowed hard. She ran her hand along Tessa’s brow, wishing she could take this burden from her, that she was the one ill.

“I’m fetching the doctor, Tess,” she told her and pressed a kiss upon her cheek.

Tessa shook her head, but Emma hushed her. “It will be fine.”

Emma would convince him to come, no matter the cost.

~*~

Michael paused in the doorway of the drawing room at Ashbury’s home on Park Lane, a short carriage ride from his own residence. He studied the flushed faces of its two occupants with amusement. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were dallying.”

Ashbury’s slow grin was all the confirmation he needed.

Abigail shook her head at her fiancé’s smile. “How are you, Weston?”

“Not as well as you, I’d venture to guess.” He couldn’t help but tease her. She made it far too easy. Her embarrassed smile was his reward.

“What brings you here?” Ashbury asked.

“You’ll never guess who paid me a visit.”

Ashbury arched a brow. “If I’ll never guess then I suppose you must tell me.”

“Emma Grisby.”

Shock froze Ashbury for a moment followed quickly by anger. “What did she say? That her uncle is alive and well? That he fooled us all?”

“Nothing of the sort.” Michael sat in the chair opposite them. “She requested a reference letter as she was interviewing for a governess post with my cousin.”

“Oh, please.” Ashbury rose to pace the room. “Surely you didn’t believe that flimsy excuse?”

“Not at first—”

Ashbury spun to face him, his green eyes accusatory. “You helped her?”

“Yes. I paid a visit to my cousin and learned that Miss Grisby truly did interview for the position. However, my cousin had another applicant who’d served as governess for an earl, so she chose her over Miss Grisby.”

“We need to speak with her. No, we’ll follow her until we find out—”

Michael held up his hand to stave the tide of Ashbury’s plan. “I’m having her followed. I have her address.”

“Who is she?” Abigail asked curiously.

Ashbury returned to his seat. “Professor Grisby’s niece. It’s a shame to think he’s using her.”

“We don’t yet know that,” Michael argued. Why he felt the need to defend her eluded him. Hadn’t he had the same suspicions?

The bland look Ashbury gave him made him feel as though he’d been taken in by her. Perhaps he had. At the very least, he had to admit she’d caught his sympathies.

“So you have a plan to keep her under watch?” Ashbury asked.

“Not exactly. I have one of the runners following her.”

As part of his effort to prevent harm coming from those he saw with criminal intentions, Ashbury employed people to assist him in gathering information, running errands or even following someone. Their nondescript attire and knowledge of the seedier parts of London often came in handy. Michael had joined him in his efforts. Few people noticed a street urchin lingering about, including Miss Grisby.

“How does she seem?” Ashbury asked.

“Rather desperate to be honest. I’m still trying to determine what’s going on, but their flat is in one of the poorest areas. Her clothing had been mended several times over.” He shook his head as he pictured the mended cuff she’d continually tried to hide. “It seems she genuinely needs a position of some sort. I told her I’d ask my acquaintances if they knew of anything.”

Ashbury’s eyes narrowed. “You
have
been taken in by her. You always had a soft spot for her.”

Michael scoffed even as a vision of a younger, happier Emma danced through his mind. “I hardly think trying to help her find a position means I’ve been duped.”

“If she’s so desperate for funds, a governess post won’t fulfill her needs,” Abigail added.

Ashbury turned to his fiancé. “Few other options are available to her. Other than making a good match.” Ashbury turned to Michael. “That’s it!”

Abigail blinked, obviously as confused as Michael. “What is?”

“She needs to find a husband. And, if Weston assisted her in finding one, he’d have an excuse to stay near her.”

“Have you gone mad?” Michael asked.

“We’ve already discussed that possibility, remember?”

Michael shook his head, exasperated with his friend. “Might I remind you that I’m engaged?”

“I’m still not certain you’re making a wise decision, but what does that have to do with anything?”

Michael chose to ignore Ashbury’s comment. “I can hardly escort Miss Grisby about while planning my own wedding. My fiancé will not approve.”

“But it’s the perfect solution.” Ashbury’s excitement at the idea set Michael’s teeth on edge.

“Stephen’s suggestion does have merit,” Abigail suggested.

Ashbury smiled at his fiancé, obviously pleased she’d taken his side. “This will work brilliantly. You can launch her into society. Give her a season. Help her find a husband. And the entire time, she’ll be right under your nose.”

“I couldn’t possibly do all that.” The idea of spending so much time with her made his mouth go dry as he remembered that sizzle. Not to mention that Catherine would be less than pleased by such an arrangement.

“You
can
with your grandmother’s assistance,” Ashbury insisted.

Michael’s mind searched for an excuse to stem Ashbury’s enthusiasm. “You haven’t seen Miss Grisby of late. I don’t know that she’d attract a husband.”

“Oh, please.” Ashbury waved his hand in the air. “Your grandmother can transform her into an adequate catch. Sweeten the deal with a small dowry.”

Michael sputtered as he remembered Miss Grisby’s reaction to him offering her money. He couldn’t imagine proposing this crazed plan to her. “I hardly think—”

“You have more money than you know what to do with. This is the perfect arrangement. Admit it.” Ashbury slapped him on the back. “Miss Grisby will gain the financial stability she needs, and we’ll be able to watch her every move. It solves everyone’s problems.”

“Except for mine,” Michael muttered. Reluctance filled him at the thought of spending so much time with Emma. That was certainly not part of the plan he’d set for his well-ordered life.

~*~

“Please, Dr. Barnes,” Emma pleaded from the doctor’s front step. “She’s coughing up blood. I don’t know what to do.” She tried to keep her tears at bay, but her worry for Tessa was overwhelming.

The tall, grey-haired man rubbed his forehead from the doorway of his modest red brick home on Villiers Street. “Miss Grisby, you haven’t paid your account for nearly six months. I can’t help you anymore.”

“I know and I’m terribly sorry for the delay in your payment. I’m searching for a position and expect to find something very soon.” Emma hoped her tone sounded positive rather than desperate.

“You couldn’t pay me properly when you did have a position.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. But I have to care for my family too.”

Dr. Barnes had been their physician for as long as she could remember. His shoulders were stooped, whether from age or the burden of trying to help families like hers, she couldn’t say. He’d been her rock through Tessa’s illness, and she didn’t know what she’d do without him. The idea of him not helping them anymore wasn’t acceptable.

“Perhaps we could find some sort of trade. Does your wife need assistance cleaning your home? Is there mending we could do? We’d be pleased to do anything you need.” She dug her nails into her palm, hoping against hope he’d agree. “Mother is an excellent cook.”

His tired blue eyes looked at her as though he didn’t know what to do with her. “Do you imagine that other families haven’t offered the same thing? That our house isn’t full of things we don’t want or need from people unable to make good on their account?”

Emma’s heart sank. She bit her lip to keep her tears at bay. “Is there anything you could simply tell me to do? Something to help her cough at least?”