Of course, he was all alone, no one knew where he was, and he was lying through his teeth about speculative information that, if mistaken, could get him killed.
Brilliant.
“Come back here.” The man waved him forward.
Collin breathed in a silent breath and strode forward. The hall was dimly lit, and a door was opened where the man held it wide. “McKensie, this is who is asking for you.”
Collin turned the corner, keeping his expression neutral as he studied the older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a tidy beard. “You’ve come from the Whaleford district?” he asked without putting down his parchments.
A few candles sputtered as Collin came farther into the room. Well, the suspicions about the shire’s names were correct. One piece of information assured, he simply nodded. Then replied, “Yes.”
“I see.” The man glanced up. The expression was dry, edged with ill humor. “You’re a piss-poor liar.You’re from London. I’ve seen you there. That’s not the Whaleford region, so now you have the opportunity to explain yourself.” He folded his hands and leaned back. “Besides, one of my informants has been trailing you. Taking up residence in a duke’s Cambridge lodgings?” He clicked his tongue. “Not usual for the business, but you may have reasons. I’m a patient man. I’ll wait to hear them before I make a judgment.”
Collin’s mind worked quickly. “I was sent to London, and I am…old acquaintances with the Duke of Westmore. That’s common knowledge. What you don’t know is that my business partners are only willing to work with someone of their own class, as I’m sure you are more than willing to understand,” Collin replied. “So, your informant, whomever it may be, is merely giving you information that I want to be known. Consider that.”
McKensie frowned, then shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But I’ll give you the opportunity to prove yourself.” He handed a note to the man still standing at the door. He took it, tucked it in his breast pocket. “Send that to Whaleford.” The man nodded.
Collin’s spine prickled with sweat as he considered what the man was implying.
“Whaleford will either collaborate your story or deny it. Either way, I know where you’re staying and, if that is not enough”—he stood and leanedacross the desk, his hands spreading across the top—“I know who keeps you company, a delightful strawberry blond who is far too smart for her own good, and likely yours. Good day.”
The man standing in the doorway grabbed onto Collin’s arm and ushered him out the door and to the front of the apothecary. “We’ll find you, no need to return.” The man gave a wicked grin and slammed the door in Collin’s face.
Collin nodded, adjusted his coat, and walked calmly up the street as if he had no concerns at all, just in case he was being watched. But he was uttering words he’d rarely spoken aloud.
What a bloody disaster.
He had three, perhaps five days before there was a reply to the message. He could try to confiscate it, but that wouldn’t work. When no reply was forthcoming, they’d merely resend it.
No, he needed a forgery, and to steal the real letter. If that was possible. He didn’t know how they communicated, and it likely wasn’t through the bloody English post.
He took the road home, keeping his pace careful, his demeanor unremarkable, in case they followed him to where he was staying.
Which they already knew.
And they knew about Elizabeth too. How in the bloody hell did they know all of this?
He took the steps to the duke’s residence and,once inside, walked directly to the study. He needed to think, he needed a plan, and it needed to be quick.
Twenty-three
Work keeps at bay three great evils: boredom, vice, and need.
—Voltaire,Candide
Elizabeth awoke the next day with a bright sense of purpose. Perhaps there was some way she could turn her classes into something that was more socially acceptable. It would be a great relief to have her desire to teach be an outlet she didn’t have to constantly keep under lock and key. But she was a gentleman’s daughter so taking on a paid position of any sort would be an insult to her father, as if he were unable to provide, and since she was still of his household, she would be expected to operate under his rules—and he wasn’t familiar with the fact she taught her classes. These were two large issues to be overcome.
And then there was the problem of the subject material. It wasn’t as if she’d laid open the pages of graphic biology of the human anatomical form—which would be scandalous at best, but the material she taught wasn’t something any governess wouldconsider primary or secondary education. She was teaching women to be as smart, or in some cases, smarter, than most men. Being bested in intelligence by the woman he courted wasn’t exactly high on any gentleman’s list. She blushed as she considered how Collin had found that an attractive trait. Why couldn’t there be more men like him?
It was still a considerable obstacle, convincing both parents and young women to further their education into the deeper sciences, mathematics, and philosophy than a regular governess would be educated enough to teach. It wasn’t done.
Not only was it not done, but it was frowned upon, greatly. These were not small issues, and the earlier feeling of purpose and lightheartedness faded away like steam from a hot cup of tea.
Elizabeth quit her rooms and approached the breakfast table, fully expecting to see her father waiting for her, as was their usual routine. When he wasn’t at his usual position at the table, nor was theLondon Timesanywhere in sight, she frowned.
“Molly, where is my father?” she asked as the maid walked past the room.
“Ah, miss, there was a visitor earlier this morning for him. Still here, I believe.”
