I threw a fleeting look at Clara. There was only one name I had learned thus far. “Lord Trowbridge.”
Mr. Wortham chuckled. “Trowbridge doesn’t havefriends. Try again.”
I scowled but quickly stopped myself.A lady must always maintain an even disposition.“Does he not? How would you know?”
Clara tightened her arm around mine, a warning of sorts. I ignored her, holding Mr. Wortham’s gaze.
He seemed somewhat affronted, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t think a man of his standing would share an occasional drink with the likes of me?”
I gulped. Was Mr. Wortham actually friends with the earl? That could complicate my entire first impression. But it could also provide a connection with which to make his acquaintance. I studied Mr. Wortham’s face. There was something decidedly untrustworthy about it.
“We are under no obligation to tell you why we are here,” I said in a dismissive tone.
He rubbed his jaw, a slow grin creeping over his mouth. I chose to ignore the way it affected his face. He was very handsome in a rugged sort of way, and for a man who was recently bleeding from the nose, he was smiling far too much. “Ah, a secret endeavor. May I be of assistance? I happen to know a great many things about this town.”
I started shaking my head but stopped myself. “Very well. Tell us about Lord Trowbridge.”
Mr. Wortham’s sea-green eyes remained unblinking. “How would I know?”
I narrowed my gaze. “You did imply that you were acquainted.”
“And you implied that you were friends.”
I pressed my lips together, frustration bubbling inside my chest. My lies were already getting me in trouble. “Very well. We are not friends. Not yet, anyway. But we thought to pay him a visit. Our families are…connected.”
Not yet, anyway,I added in my mind.
Mr. Wortham’s expression was still heavy with doubt, but he released a relenting sigh. “The earl is a strange fellow. Quiet, disagreeable, not nearly as handsome as myself…” His lips twitched upward as if he were waiting for a reaction of some kind. When we said nothing, he cleared his throat. “In truth, he’s rather reclusive. Doesn’t enjoy company.”
I crossed my arms. “Is that truly all you know?”
He straightened his collar and flashed another smile. “Well, of course not.” He leaned closer. “But it seems you have a few secrets of your own. I’ll keep some of mine perchance you’re ever interested in making a trade.”
Miss Bentford gave a tiny gasp. His boldness hadn’t escaped her notice, and nor had it mine. I almost snapped at him, but managed to maintain an even disposition. Only just. “I suppose secrets are all we have to offer now.” My stomach sank. The reality hit me that all our money to sustain us for the next two months was gone. My throat tightened with the threat of tears.
Mr. Wortham looked up, his face serious again. “Your stolen reticule?”
“I’m afraid that reticule contained all our money.” I said it with my chin high.
“All of it?”
I nodded. My gaze slid to Clara. She seemed to be fighting tears of her own.
Miss Bentford intervened. “We thank you for your time, Mr. Wortham. We will not trouble you further.” She tugged against Clara’s arm, but I kept us rooted where we stood. Miss Bentford threw me an exasperated look, but I turned my gaze back toMr. Wortham. Considering how he had run after the thief who had stolen our money, perhaps he would be willing to help us further.
“It’s no trouble at all.” Mr. Wortham gave me a hesitant glance and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I was unable to stop that man. Have you any other resources to call upon?”
I shook my head. I tried my best to look sad and helpless. Clara looked sad and helpless without even trying, and Miss Bentford looked mortified. But what did she expect us to do? Wait until her letters reached her brother and he sent additional money? How would we survive in the meantime?
I watched a struggle in Mr. Wortham’s features, as if his conscience was battling against itself. He mumbled something I didn’t hear under his breath and nodded toward the village ahead. “Come with me.”
Without a word, Clara and I followed. Miss Bentford picked up her skirts and trailed behind, though I could sense her trepidation. Mr. Wortham walked ahead quickly, and I nearly tripped trying to keep up. He turned his head over his shoulder, addressing me with one eyebrow raised yet again. “Afraid to soil your skirts, are you?”
“Yes, in fact, I am.”
He grinned and turned his head back around. “Then I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong town, my dear.”
Clara giggled in her throat. I shot her a scowl.
