The smile she pasted on her face wavered only the littlest bit. “I’m ready.” She hurried to the door and poked her head out.
A maid lounged against the far wall, holding their coats.
“Maisey?” Juliana peered down the hall. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw you sneaking into this room.” The girl’s eyes twinkled. “The butler has positioned himself at the front door. You won’t slip past him unnoticed, and he noticeseverything.” She ran her gaze down Juliana’s rumpled gown, her smile widening.
Brogan followed Juliana into the hall. “Is there another exit we should take?”
Maisey tossed them their coats and pulled a dented top hat from behind her back. She popped out the crease and handed it to Brogan. “Down this hall and to the right. It will take you to the west garden. There’s a gate to the street from there.”
“You are a jewel, Maisey.” Juliana squeezed the girl’s hands. “I won’t forget this.”
The maid shrugged. “You’ve been good to me.”
With a last farewell, Juliana and Brogan followed her direction and escaped into the brisk night air.
She stepped next to Brogan, seeking his warmth. But though his body was inches from hers, he felt farther away than ever. She breathed deeply. “Maisey deserves a gift for that rescue.”
“Why?” Brogan trudged toward the wooden gate, poking his head above the slats. When a pedestrian had passed, he opened the gate.
She slipped through, frowning. “Because she went out of her way to help us. Because if the butler had suspected something and told Mr. Butters, he most likely would have forbidden Hy from seeing me.” Something she should have considered before dragging Brogan into the room. But all was well that ended well. “Because she acted as a friend.”
Brogan hailed his carriage which was waiting down the street. “She’s not your friend. She makes her living assisting your kind. She provided you a service, which was her job. Nothing more.”
Juliana scowled. She had half a mind to walk back to his apartments. She didn’t think she wanted to spend the next twenty minutes in a confined space with him, not when he was in this mood.
But she was a rational person, and she didn’t see why she should suffer blisters when Brogan was the one who was being a right pain.
She ignored the hand he offered to assist her into the coach. She settled herself into the far corner of the bench. Yes, Maisey worked for Mr. Butters, but that didn’t mean she had to help anyone who came through the doors of the house. The girl had a mind of her own, and she’d used it to help Juliana, without any expectation of payment, only because she liked her.
It had been a compromise of sorts across class and rank.
Why was it so difficult for Brogan to attempt the same?
Chapter Twenty-One
Brogan gripped his pen. His gaze drifted to where Juliana sat across from him at the agency's offices.
Her expression was placid, but he knew she felt the same frustrations swirling under her skin that he did.
It had been a week. A week of Brogan going out to question people while leaving her here in the offices under the watch of his fellow agents. He'd made sure everyone knew not to be fooled by her ‘wanting to use the necessary’ excuse.
She had been furious with him for investigating without her at the beginning of the week, but that fury had dwindled into intermittent irritation. She was at heart a sensible creature. She wouldn’t stay in high temper just for spite’s sake.
“You done with that report yet?” Wil called from his office.
Brogan turned back to the paper before him. “Not yet.” Reports. No one had told him becoming an agent of inquiry would require so much paperwork. He could have written the same damn thing each afternoon after he came back from questioning his suspects. The name at the top of the report for the person he’d interviewed would change, but since he had learned shit all from each questioning session, the rest he could write by rote.
No one suspected Pickens of anything beyond petty theft. Everyone thought Lord Withington a decent man with no enemies.
With a neat motion, Juliana slit open the seal of her letter. They’d set up a forwarding system for her correspondence to be sent here.
He hoped reading and replying to her acquaintances would alleviate some of her boredom at her confinement. Guilt gnawed at Brogan. It was for her own good. No one would be throwing rocks at her head if he could help it.
But it was for his own good, too. And that’s what made his guts twist. He was depriving her of her right to investigate in order to keep himself sane.
Wil had brought in a couple of books for Juliana to entertain herself with while Brogan was away, something Brogan should have thought of himself. He didn't know if Juliana actually read them. Every time she picked up a book, it looked like she wanted to chuck it at his head instead of dive into the pages.
