Chapter 10 #2
He had been in control of the conversation — he was always in control — and then something had shifted, some line he hadn't known he was approaching until he had already crossed it, and he had pulled her closer without quite deciding to move.
He told himself it was an emphasis. That she needed to understand, concretely and without ambiguity, that his protection was not a figure of speech. That was when he said he would keep her safe; he meant it in the particular way he meant everything — completely, and without exception.
That was true, as far as it went.
But it didn't go far enough, and he was too honest with himself, in private at least, to pretend otherwise.
The honest answer was harder to look at directly.
He had watched her stand in that room and lay out her terms with the careful precision of a woman who had learned that no one else was going to protect her interests, so she had better do it herself.
He had watched her account for her sister before herself, account for her reputation before her comfort, account for the exit before she had even fully entered.
She had built the terms of their arrangement the way someone builds a wall — not to keep people out, necessarily, but because walls were the only architecture she had ever been taught.
And something about that had moved through him in a way he hadn't expected and couldn't entirely name.
He knew what it was to carry responsibility that should have been someone else's.
He knew what it was to be fifteen years old and understand, in the space of a single afternoon, that the person who was supposed to be standing between you and the world was gone, and that the world was not going to pause and wait for you to be ready.
He had rebuilt himself around that knowledge — the control, the strategy, the careful management of every room he entered — and he had told himself for fifteen years that it had made him stronger.
Looking at Miss Julia Norish last night, he had thought, for the first time, that perhaps it had also made him lonelier than he had noticed.
He empathized with her situation more than he cared to admit, even to himself.
But he didn't think that was the reason he had pulled her close.
He thought the reason was simpler and considerably more inconvenient than empathy.
He thought the reason was that she had looked up at him in that moment with those steady brown eyes, and he had wanted, with a clarity that had no business existing at this stage of a transaction, to be someone she could actually rely on entirely.
Not because of the arrangement.
Not because of Lord Norish.
Just because she looked like a person who had been let down by everyone who should have known better, and he found, against all reasonable intention, that he did not want to be added to that list.
He set down his pen and shuffled a few documents.
This was going to be considerably more complicated than he had planned.
He’d spent much of the night and early parts of the morning trying to figure that out.
“Good morning, sunshine,” said Anthony’s cheery voice as his friend strode into the room unannounced. “You look awful.”
“I feel awful,” Leander replied. “Don’t you even bother to knock?”
“In this house? Never.” His friend pulled open the curtains, letting more light into the office.
Leander groaned and shielded his eyes. He was still extremely tired and not yet ready to fully accept that daytime had arrived.
“What are you doing in here all alone? Everyone’s about to finish up at breakfast. You’ll miss the last of the bacon. ”
“I have some work to catch up on,” Leander replied. “I’ll have Mrs. Gwen bring me up whatever’s left and come to join the guests later.”
“Suit yourself.” Anthony shrugged. “Benjamin and I are going to play outside today. The weather’s absolutely glorious. You wouldn’t even think we were in England lately with the run of sunshine we’ve had.”
“Perhaps I’ll come out once I’ve finished,” the Duke said, looking mournfully down at the endless papers in front of him. “This, regrettably, can’t wait any longer.”
“Did you hear that the Burbanks departed this morning?” Anthony asked. “Something about a commotion between the ladies last night. I’m not up to date on it all, but it sounds like there’s some bad blood there.”
“Oh, they’ve left? That’s a relief,” Leander said lightly.
He wasn’t about to tell Anthony that he’d had the Burbanks removed from the party first thing this morning.
It wasn’t that he was keeping it a secret; he just didn’t fully understand his actions himself and definitely wouldn’t be able to explain them if questioned.
He simply hadn’t felt comfortable having them in the same house as Miss Norish for a moment longer, knowing they had been so unforgivably cruel to her, no matter what she said about it.
A knock at the door interrupted them. Leander looked pointedly at Anthony, who tilted his head. “Not fair, I practically live here. This person probably doesn’t, so of course they knock.”
Leander rolled his eyes. “Come in.”
A smartly dressed man with a bowler hat entered the room. He wore high-heeled shoes that accentuated his height, and his impressive whiskers were touched with gray. It was his solicitor, Mr. Cuthbert. “Your Grace. Lord Thynne. Good morning to you both.”
“Good day, Mr. Cuthbert. My apologies, I may have forgotten - did we have an appointment this morning?”
“No,” he replied, “however, I was in the neighborhood on other business and came across some information that I thought you would want to see immediately.” He stepped over to the desk and pulled the daily broadsheet from his jacket.
Smoothing it out, he pointed out an article about some shady gambling that had apparently been taking place at a den near Leicester Square.
“I was investigating the goings-on here on behalf of a client; some money moved into the wrong circles; he’s trying to recover it.
Not important. However, while I was there, I heard mention of Lord Norish. ”
“Norish?” asked Leander sharply, scanning the article, his bleariness forgotten in the face of such important news. “Is he somehow involved with these men?”
“I don’t yet know,” Cuthbert said, “but I’ll be looking further into the backgrounds of those I met there, and if any of them proves to have any connections to him, I’ll be sure to let you know.
One thing we can be certain of, though, is that if Lord Norish does have some ties with this group, he won’t be far away.
That man was never one to let his little investment projects out of his sight.
He must be staying in town. If I get any hint of where he might be, I’ll let you know at once. ”
“Thank you, Mr. Cuthbert. Keep me informed,” Leander said, handing him back the broadsheet. “The moment you have anything concrete, I want to be the first to know about it.”
“Of course.” The solicitor bowed and tipped his hat. “Good day, Your Grace. Your Lordship.”
The minute he was gone, Anthony raised his eyebrow and let out a long whistle. “Well, Leander, it seems you might have been right all along. Looks like he was hiding out right under our noses.”
“And that means he’s most definitely heard about the courtship,” Leander continued his friend’s thought. “Which means he’ll smell an opportunity and be getting in touch with Miss Norish very soon, I expect.”
“So your plan’s working,” his friend mused. “What are you going to do when you find him?”
“I want that watch back,” Leander said simply, his hand curling into a fist at the thought of it. “I’ll do whatever it takes. It was Henry’s last cherished object, and I can’t let him down.”
“How are you going to go about that?” his friend asked. “You know Norish probably won’t give it up willingly. Or he’ll try to make a deal with you, and we both know he won’t play fair. Are you going to take your revenge by sending him to prison?”
Leander sighed. This had been troubling him ever since his discussion with Miss Norish the other day, when she’d looked him in the eye and asked him not to take revenge on her father, and he had subtly avoided answering her.
He knew that she had taken his silence as agreement.
Would it be a betrayal of Miss Norish’s trust to report her father’s presence to the constabulary and have him arrested, thereby forcing him to return the pocket watch?
Of course it would.
But he thought again about all the pain Henry had gone through in his final days, about the way his friend had been so desperate to get that watch back, and the anger surged once again through him.
It would be a betrayal of Henry’s memory not to make Lord Norish suffer in the same way his friend had.
“I don’t know,” he replied tiredly, a rush of fatigue hitting him once again. “Let’s hope that he’s in a reasonable state of mind, especially if he thinks he’s going to get some money from my betrothal to his daughter. Perhaps we can trick the watch out of him.”
“Very hard to trick a trickster, my friend,” Anthony pointed out. “I think at some point soon you’re going to have to make up your mind about this. What matters most to you?”
“Nothing matters to me except you and Henry,” Leander replied fiercely.
Even as he said it, though, he knew that it was no longer true.
Once again, the image of Miss Norish swam unbidden in his mind’s eye.
The surge of confusing and inexplicable feelings he’d had last night when she was in his arms returned.
Could he really go through with this and break her trust?
He could tell Anthony knew he was lying, but his friend didn’t say anything else.
He simply clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly.
“One way or another, it’ll work itself out, Leander.
I’m sure of it. Now get your head around those balance sheets so you can come and play with my boy.
He’s been desperate to spend time with his uncle all week. ”
“I’ll be right out. I promise.”