“You saw her?”
“Immediately.”
Which meant, Nathan supposed, that she could have seen him. “I don’t think jealousy was a motive.” But he wasn’t as certain as he had been a moment ago.
“Then perhaps she was just kissing you and thinking of me,” said Brig. “She’s halfway to being in love with me, you know.”
Nathan started up the walk and Brig fell in step beside him. “You can’t be all that sure of her,” Nathan said, “or you wouldn’t have shown up here tonight.”
Brig laughed again. “You know me too well, Nath. By God, you really do.” Except for the light tapping of Brig’s cane it was quiet as they passed the pond. “You may be interested to know,” Brig said, “that Lydia knows I’m a convict. It’s only a matter of time before she learns the same of you.”
“She already knows. She asked me and I told her.”
“Did she ask you what you’d done?”
“No. I think she was afraid to. And I didn’t offer the information.”
“Wise man. I don’t think she’d have been kissing you like that if she’d known about…damn, what was her name?”
“Beth Ann Ondine.”
“Not likely you’ll ever forget, is it?”
“No, not likely,” Nathan said quietly. He wasn’t just thinking of Beth Ann. He was thinking of Ginny Flynt. Who would ever believe he hadn’t killed her? “Do you have a point?” he asked.
“Lydia’s not going to have anything to do with either of us if she knows too much.”
“The fact that she knows anything at all is your fault,” Nathan whispered harshly. They were standing near the edge of the portico, not far from where he’d shimmied up to the balcony the night before. “She heard it first from her mother, and we both know how Madeline came by the information. She may have guessed a few things in the beginning, but I’ll wager you confirmed most of her suspicions. You were insane to get involved with her. She’s a bitch, Brig, and where you’re concerned, she’s a bitch in heat.”
One corner of Brig’s mouth lifted. “Perhaps that’s where her daughter gets it from.” He was curiously disappointed when Nathan didn’t react. Had he misread Nathan’s interest in Lydia? “What’s she like, Nath? I haven’t even kissed her yet. You do plan to let me share in that pleasure, don’t you? Assuming it’s a pleasure.”
“You’re welcome to try your hand at her, Brig. I certainly don’t have a claim. What you did this afternoon smacks of a little underhandedness, but as you pointed out before, there are no rules where Lydia is concerned.”
“Underhanded?” asked Brig, his eyes widening innocently. “What do you—oh, the gloves.”
“Precisely. She didn’t drop them and they didn’t fall out of her cape. You lifted them and then you hid them and waited until tonight to return them. You knew Lydia was out with me, knew that I wouldn’t keep her late, and you came to the house hoping we’d come in while you were still here. I’d say you probably saw our carriage arrive, never shared that information with Madeline, and got her out here on the pretense of seeing the gardens. I think her shock when she saw Lydia and me was quite real.”
“It was.”
“And everything else?”
Brig shrugged, no remorse in the gesture. “All true, I’m afraid. Yet it’s hardly different than your timely intervention in the alley. Or should I say interference? And don’t forget the card game. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have been with her tonight at the Cliff House, and quite possibly kissing her in the gazebo. Let’s not discuss underhandedness, shall we.”
Nathan sighed heavily, frustrated that Brig had out-maneuvered him. “Where’s Samuel tonight?”
“I don’t know. He’s not at home, though.”
Convenient, thought Nathan. “Let’s go, Brig. I’d say today ended in a draw.”
“A draw,” he agreed. He put an arm around Nathan’s shoulders as they rounded the corner of the house below Lydia’s window. “Too bad we can’t finish it that way. In the end there’s just going to be one winner.”
Nathan was only certain it would not be Lydia.
The missionthat housed the orphans was a rabbit warren of rooms. Lydia hurried from one bedroom to the next looking for two of the youngest boys. She retraced her steps into the bedroom she had just left when she heard Richard’s smothered giggle. A few minutes later, after fussing aloud that she’d never find them, she pulled them out from under a cot. John’s hand was covering Richard’s mouth, but that did little to silence the younger child’s laughter. John’s narrow, angular face was softened by large brown eyes and a gap-toothed smile. Richard was a slightly broader, rounder version of his older brother with the same dark chocolate eyes and heart-warming grin. That grin was finally uncovered when John let his hand drop.
Lydia tried to be stern. “Mrs. Finnegan is waiting for you boys in the kitchen. It’s not a good idea to run off when there’s work to be done.”
Richard simply stared up at her soulfully and let his brother do the talking. “That’s when it’s the very best idea.”
