Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Honora was on the arm of a man. And not just a man. A young, handsome, seemingly available one. It was possible he was only doing so because she owed him something, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And Honora would consider herself a beggar in this regard.
Not to mention that he had gone after her when he saw Hind’s thugs force her into the carriage. It was almost enough to make her swoon. Of course, she would never do something so silly, but if she were the type, now would be the time to do so.
She glanced over at Mr. Stanton’s profile.
He had tied up his horse at the opening of the small park they now strolled through, allowing him to be free to walk with her.
She was really enjoying her view. And not just of the trees which had begun to boast the subtlest change in hue, but more the man beside her.
He wasn’t a particularly large specimen—average height, average breadth, average girth.
That wasn’t to say he wasn’t handsome. He very much was, especially his wavy brown hair that she had been so bold as to touch the other day.
Her fingers itched to brush it aside again just at the remembrance.
She needed to focus. Her current task was to keep Mr. Stanton from backing out of their agreement. And since he didn’t seem keen on her efforts thus far, she would have to try another angle.
“Mrs. Gillingham,” Mr. Stanton began, still keeping his gaze ahead. “Do you plan on telling me what we came here for?”
“Of course. Excuse me.” How did one even begin to tell him how they ended up here? Surely, she couldn’t tell him the whole truth. The truth she told others would have to do for now. “You see, I am a widow.”
“Yes, Langford told me.”
She halted on the path, loosening her hold on his arm as she spun to face him. “That is how you found me!”
Mr. Stanton threw his head back. “Blast. I wasn’t supposed to mention that.
” He pressed his fingers to his eyes, briefly rubbing them.
“Andrew will have my head if he finds out.” He peered at her from the corner of his eye.
“Though under the circumstances, I’m sure he will find it within his heart to forgive me. He is partially to blame for this.”
“Really? How so?”
“He was part of the wager all those years—” He narrowed his eyes. “We aren’t talking about me. We are talking about you and why you stole my ring and why you asked me to deliver a parcel and why I showed up to your house to find you being forced into a carriage by two men—”
“All in good time,” she said, taking his arm and attempting to pull him ahead with her.
At first, he was reluctant, and she nearly tripped from his unmoving form holding her in place as her feet attempted to move forward.
“I’m afraid a person’s mind can only absorb so much in a single moment, so I shall try and keep my little story brief.
” She tried moving ahead again, and while he still hesitated, he eventually moved with her.
“I think I can handle it,” Mr. Stanton muttered beneath his breath, his frown clearly indicating he would rather be anywhere else than tethered here with her.
“I will be the judge of what you can and cannot handle.” She tightened her hand on his arm—partly because she was afraid he would bolt away.
Though truly, it just felt so wonderful to be near someone.
To breathe in an unfamiliar scent, to bask in their warmth, to study them and their mannerisms. She cleared her throat.
Best not to get too distracted. “Anyway,” she said, trying to get her mind back on task, “I may have relieved Mr. Hind of something a few weeks ago and now he wants it back.”
“You stole from him too?” Mr. Stanton looked down at her, his face aghast. It was actually quite adorable. “Goodness, woman. What is wrong with you?”
“You haven’t let me finish my story,” she reminded him. “Now, my father was a very loving man, but not one you could say was a good example.”
“Was he a thief as well?”
Here, Honora sobered. The giddiness of being with Mr. Stanton and the thrill of the evening evaporated. “He was. And he taught me well.”
Mr. Stanton slipped his arm out of Honora’s grasp, turning toward her with a furrowed brow, his lips slightly puckered. “Why are you telling me all of this? You hardly know me.”
Honora swallowed. How could she say that she had no one to confide in without sounding completely pathetic? And so, she tried something else. “Need I remind you that you are the one who insisted. Besides, you are an excellent listener.”
His chest rose with slow, measured breaths as he watched her. “I am a reserved and quiet man. Do not mistake it for anything else.”
Goodness, his sullenness only made her want to try harder and get some sort of reaction out of this man.
“I will guard myself,” Honora teased. “Now, when my late husband passed, I took the small bit of funds leftover from my dowry”—Goodness, this was such a lie—“and invested them with your friend, Mr. Andrew Langford. And I must say I was quite impressed with him. My funds did well, and I now live the life of a wealthy widow.”
“And yet, you steal. Do not pretend I have forgotten about that.”
“That is more of a bad habit than a necessity.”
“A very bad habit.”
Honora would be hard pressed to say there had been any amount of friendliness in this conversation, but if there had been even a miniscule sliver before, that small bit had been pulled out, and there was now nothing but tense frustration on the part of Mr. Stanton.
“I will not try and explain myself to you, for there is no way you possibly could understand. Nor do I condone my own actions.”
“That is something, I suppose,” he drolled.
Her mind buzzed, and an idea eased its way into her mind. A way to keep him involved. “I have a different proposition for you.”
“Just when I think you can get no more audacious, you prove me wrong.” He rubbed a hand over his cheek as he glanced away from her.
“I was going to say,” she said, propping a hand on her hip, “that if you help me right my wrong to Mr. Hind, I promise I will be done with my thieving ways.”
Mr. Stanton’s face contorted in some sort of amalgamation of a frown, grimace, and outrage. “And I should believe this, why?”
“Did your friend Mr. Langford say I was dishonest in my business dealings?”
His eyes narrowed as his features settled. “I would say he doesn’t really know you well.”
“But did he say I was a good client?”
With this, Mr. Stanton paused. “He did.”
“And there you have it.” She threw her hand up. “If I tell you I will stop, I will stop.”
He ran his tongue across his teeth. “Why not just stop? Why need I be involved at all?”
“Because I am willing to pay you.”
“You mean, the money you already owe me?”
“Yes, yes, of course. But I will pay you even more on top of that.”
“I think you misunderstand me, Mrs. Gillingham. The only reason I need funds now is because my investments are tied up at the moment, and I did not wish to pull them. I do have money, though it would be tight. But ultimately, it was the issue of availability that had me in a scramble.”
“Surely you could find something to spend the money on.” This wasn’t good. Mr. Stanton didn’t seem to be budging in his opinion at all.
Her walking partner was positively sulking beside her. And then she had another idea as to how to keep him from ending their agreement. “Mr. Hind is not always a very nice man.”
Mr. Stanton’s face softened, and he met her eyes. “I had noticed. Did he hurt you?”
“No,” Honora said. “But I cannot say he never would. Especially since the item he wishes for me to retrieve is for, let us say, someone who is not his wife.”
“Of course it is.” Mr. Stanton shook his head. “Because it would be too simple if it were for his wife.”
Honora was a bit surprised he hadn’t taken off running yet, and her hopes rose. “Yes. He cannot report the missing item officially as it would give away that he had purchased it for someone other than his wife.”
“How so?” Mr. Stanton’s brow creased, his face focused as if interested in her little mystery.
“Well, the jewel in the necklace was an opal, which apparently his wife has no taste for. So if he claimed he bought it for her, her suspicions would be aroused.”
He narrowed an eye, pulling in his lower lip. “Hm.” His lip slipped out from his teeth. “I suppose I could see that.”
She forced her eyes away from his mouth, though reluctantly. “Do you agree to help me, then?”
“Give me three good reasons as to why I should help you.” He punctuated his words with a jut of his chin.
“Well, one, you would get to make some extra money.”
“Next reason.”
“Very well,” she said. What a touchy man. “You would get to spend time with me.” She turned her head toward him, flashing him her most winning smile.
He bobbed his head, slipping his arm away from her again, then clasping his hands behind his back. “Very next.”
Odious! “You would get to keep a helpless widow safe as she made her change from a thief to an upstanding citizen.”
This seemed to be the only reason he was actually considering.
So, she decided to double down and lock him in while she had a smidgen of a chance.
“You know, I don’t thieve often anymore.
The other day I had only been incredibly bored.
” And unbearably lonely. But she neglected to add that.
“With Mr. Hind, well, I was also very bored that day.”
Mr. Stanton rolled his eyes. “That isn’t the argument you think it is.”
“I have also only stolen from people I believe can afford it.”
“Also not the argument you think it is.”
She felt like she kept hitting a brick wall with this man. “Are you perfect, Mr. Stanton?”
His mouth pulled to the side. “Of course not. No one is perfect.”
“No dark secrets of your own?”
His neck tightened, and a swallow trailed down his throat.
Ah-ha.
“Nothing like stealing,” he said, looking ahead.
Avoiding eye contact. Tightening of his neck and muscles. This man had something to hide.
“Well, we can put a pin in that for now. So, will you help me with Mr. Hind?”
“To be clear, you are retrieving an item you stole—”
She nodded.
“And now this person wants you to steal it back—”
She nodded again.
“And the item that you are retrieving is for this man’s . . . mistress.”
She gave one very final, very decisive nod.
“I have all that correct?”
“You do, sir. Now, will you help me?”