How did he know so much about Preston after meeting him just once? She’d heard her father once say that investigators thought differently than the rest of us. He’d met enough of them in his early years of being involved in the law to know. Michael Pendridge didn’t behave like other men. He seemed completely unaffected by her wiles. He certainly dressed and spoke differently than anyone she’d ever known. If he figured out Preston so quickly, what did he make of her? She thought the best thing to do was be as honest with him as she could—without revealing too much. Anything else and he would see right through it.
“I do not need help finding trouble, Investigator, as I have no doubt you will discover.” She slowed her horse. He slowed his and rode alongside her. “You will eventually have to cage me. You will have to, Detective. I cannot escape you. I do not know where you came from, but I think you came here to catch me.”
He stared at her without saying a word or moving his horse. She guessed he was figuring things out about her. She was practically confessing to living a life of crime.
“Why don’t you stop now then?” he asked, perhaps softer than he meant, for it almost sounded like a plea. No. Not from him. His jaw was set. His gaze hard and resolved.
“Because then people I know would go hungry. Their children would go without care.”
He blinked and his gaze actually warmed on her. She was glad she was sitting.
“You steal…uhm…rob people’s things and then, what? Sell it to get money?”
“That’s correct.”
“All right,” he said quickly, looking around. “Don’t say anything else.” He let out a long, deep sigh, and then tugged his reins and trotted away.
Charlotte watched him go. She hoped and prayed that she’d done enough to soften him toward her. Though there was a purpose for her words and actions, they were honest and true. They were the only things that would work on him.
The trouble was they did something to her, too. She’d removed her mask for a moment and confessed to breaking laws. He could have taken her captive and brought her to a justice of the peace tonight. The prospect of it frightened the wits out of her.
But he either chose the law or he chose her. She had to know. It was risky, but Charlotte wasn’t as afraid of risk as she was of commitment. She knew very little of it, having to rely on the goodness of the servants’ hearts to care for her while she grew up. She had Preston, but he had the things he loved to hate. He had his Horsemen. Now, he had Amanda.
She had no one and she needed no one. She was needed by Rosie and others that she helped. That was all. She wouldn’t let them down, not for Preston, not for her father, and not for a clever investigator.
They rode back to the manor house in silence. After a bit of awkwardness, the silence became comfortable. In fact, she wanted to stay with Michael and his comforting silence and not be traded off to her father.
Was he going to tell her father?
“Good day to you, Old John,” she greeted him at the door. “Are my parents in?”
“No, Miss. They are out.”
Relief filled her. It didn’t occur to her that they would be worried about her until Michael scowled and murmured to the old butler about a father who wasn’t up all night worried sick that his daughter was out alone or with a stranger in the dead of night.
Charlotte gave him a thankful smile and then turned it on John. “I will freshen up and then we will eat.
“Aye, Lady. I am glad you are well and unhurt,” John said and then shuffled away without another word.
“Did my father show you to your room yet?” she asked him when they were alone.
“Yes, last night. It’s way too extravagant.”
“Would you rather sleep with the horses?”
“No. I would rather sleep in a bed meant for one, not two…or three.”
“Why?” she asked, looking up into his eyes. He was a curious one. “Why would you prefer a bed meant for one?”
He raised his eyebrow at her as if he couldn’t believe she would ask such a question. He didn’t look like he wanted to answer, but she waited for one. He pursed his lips, drawing her dark gaze there.
“I…uhm…I want to remain alone.”
“Aye. But why?” she pressed delicately. “Which way is your room?”
He pointed and she led him down the hall and to the left.
“Why are you escorting me?” he asked her.
