“Mr. McAllen. Now, if you please.”
She even narrowed her eyes in irritation the same way my brother had. “Leave, or I’ll call the constable.”
“By all means, I expect the constable will be very interested to learn of my situation with Mr. McAllen.” I gestured inanely toward the place a constable would stand should one exist.
“Mr. McAllen isnae home.”
“I’ll wait.”
“Dinnae expect him for quite some time.”
“I’ve quite literally nowhere else to go.”
Slowly, she opened the door with a wary glance up and down the street. “Fine, but I warned ye.”
I stepped forward, backing her in before she turned and led me down a hall and up the stairs to a little drawing room. It was decorated in rich jewel tones and decent—though not opulent—furnishings. I had a strong suspicion that my payments went here instead of Kilmarnock.
Without waiting for direction, I claimed one of the wingback chairs near the fireplace. Quietly, she took the opposite, her eyes finding her boots beneath the hem of her dove-grey dress.
“Your name?”
“Sorcha.” Her gaze never left the brown leather boots—the juxtaposition of brown against grey irked me more than I liked. “Ye must be Mr. Hart.”
I merely hummed.
“He will be surprised to find ye here. I ken Mr. McAllen was waiting for ye to write when yer employer planned to visit.”
“Was he?”
“I just said as much.”
“Indeed.”
Her feet swished back and forth against the carpeting. “He’s been awaiting yer letter.”
“I’m certain he has.”
“Is there a reason ye didnae write?”
I stretched my feet out in front of me, grasping the chair arms to keep from my usual overwrought gestures. “Shall we dispense with the ruse?”
“I beg yer pardon?”
“There’s no Mr. McAllen—I wouldn’t be surprised if there never has been.”
“No—he’ll be back, just not for some time.”
“Of course. You should know, though, Mr. Hart was injured and has been indisposed. That is why he hasn’t written to announce my arrival.”
“What?” Her head finally shot up, her gaze meeting mine.
“I’m Alexander Hasket—I expect that name is familiar to you.”
Suddenly, Sorcha’s eyes turned sharp and assessing. They dragged along my form before finally catching on my brows—dark and overgrown just as hers were.
“Yer Grace, I?—”
“Swindled me out of truly astonishing sums? Yes.”
