Eleven #3
Mrs. Pembroke opened the door before Anna could stop her. “Gentlemen, if you intend to conduct accusations in my hallway, kindly do so at a volume that doesn’t rattle the ears of everyone in the house.”
Every man in the hall turned.
Nathaniel stood near the front door, coat spattered with mud, hair wind-tossed, one cheek marked by a thin scratch. His face revealed nothing. But his eyes found Anna behind Mrs. Pembroke.
He’d not betrayed her. The knowledge struck with such force she almost stumbled. Anger followed just as quickly. He’d made her believe he had.
Captain Whitby looked exasperated. “Mrs. Pembroke, this is not the time.”
She shoved her way into the midst of them. “It never is, and yet you are always here.”
Major Ellis’s gaze moved from Mrs. Pembroke to Anna. “Why is she there?”
Mrs. Pembroke glanced behind her as if surprised to find Anna standing in her own house. “Because I requested her assistance.”
“With what?”
Mrs. Pembroke frowned at him. “My temper, Major. It has been sorely tried.”
Nathaniel’s mouth tightened as though he wished to smile and knew better.
Anna wanted to slap him, or ask if he was hurt, or… or… run into his arms. A hand to her chest, she did none of those things, which she considered admirable.
Ellis stepped toward Anna. “I would speak with the maid.”
Nathaniel moved only enough to draw attention. “Major, if Bell was taken before the transfer, the men who did it had to know the route before I left the harbor post.”
Ellis stopped.
Nathaniel continued, “I delivered Captain Whitby’s order to the sentries. They were already in place. If information leaked, it leaked before I arrived.”
Rothburne’s eyes narrowed. “Convenient.”
“Annoying,” Nathaniel replied. “There is a difference.”
Whitby rubbed a hand over his jaw. “He has a point.”
Ellis didn’t look convinced and turned back to Nathaniel. “Then who knew?”
“Everyone you trusted with the route,” Nathaniel said. “Which appears to include enough men to lose one prisoner and blame half the village.”
Rothburne lunged a step forward. “Careful.”
Nathaniel’s voice stayed even. “I am being careful.”
Major Ellis stared at him for several heartbeats. “No one leaves this house without my permission.”
Mrs. Pembroke’s brows rose. “How grand. Shall I request permission to visit my own pantry?”
The major gave her a mock smile. “If necessary.”
Mrs. Pembroke smiled back. “Major Ellis, I begin to see why the prisoner escaped. Your attention is spread so thin.”
Captain Whitby closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Nathaniel didn’t smile as Major Ellis’s gaze returned to Anna. “We are not finished.”
“No,” Mrs. Pembroke said, voice crisp. “But we are finished for the moment. Captain Whitby, remove these men from my hall. They’re tracking mud all over my floor.”
For a moment, Anna thought Ellis would refuse. That is until Whitby muttered something under his breath and gestured toward the parlor.
Nathaniel remained behind only long enough to incline his head to Mrs. Pembroke. “Madam.”
His gaze shifted to Anna. “Miss Turner.”
She curtsied because the hall still had eyes. “Mr. Reed.”
He followed the others into the parlor.
Mrs. Pembroke ushered Anna back into the morning room and shut the door.
For several seconds, Anna could only stare at it. “He didn’t give them the message.”
“How very observant of you, my dear,” Mrs. Pembroke said.
“He helped Bell escape.”
“It would appear so.”
“He let me think he betrayed us.” Anna turned, anger rising fast enough to warm her cheeks. “Why?”
Mrs. Pembroke reached for her teacup. “To save you.”
“But… I didn’t ask him to save me.”
Mrs. Pembroke shrugged. “People rarely ask to be saved in the manner most likely to succeed.”
She stared at her own abandoned teacup. “That doesn’t make it right.”
“No,” Mrs. Pembroke said stoically. “It makes it war.”
Anna hated the answer because she couldn’t dismiss it.
She crossed to the window and looked out.
Somewhere beyond the house, Josiah Bell was free or nearly so.
In the parlor, the man she’d tried so hard to dislike and who’d risked himself to protect her, stood among men who now suspected him.
That was inconvenient. It was also dangerous.
Because the relief flooding through her felt far too much like something tender.
Mrs. Pembroke joined her at the window. “You must decide what you believe now.”
Anna gave a small laugh with no humor in it. “About Mr. Reed?”
“About yourself, dear.”
Anna looked at her.
Mrs. Pembroke’s voice softened. “You are angry because he took the choice from you. Hurt because, for a moment, you trusted him and thought yourself wrong to have done it. Both are reasonable. But do not let pride make you foolish. There will be more danger before this is done, and we may need him.”
Anna looked to see if the stars were out yet. “He is still dangerous.”
Mrs. Pembroke patted her arm. “Yes. But perhaps not in the way you feared.”
Anna closed her eyes. She feared him more now. Not because she believed he would betray the cause. But because she was beginning to believe he might matter to her more than caution allowed.