He walked around the table, uncollected in a way I had never seen before. “That’s personal,” he grumbled.
But my eyes were already skimming the words on the paper. I didn’t have time to read the whole thing, but I noticed the handwriting was decidedly masculine, and I caught several words that piqued my interest.‘yours,’ ‘always,’ ‘heart.’Mr. Wortham must have written it. Forgetting my tears, I grinned like a cat after catching an elusive bird.
“A love letter?” I laughed loudly in triumph. “To whom?” I scanned the top, but found that it was addressed vaguely as,My love.I held back another giggle.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Something like that. Now give it back to me. Now.” He took another step forward.
I held the letter behind my back. “Why was it never delivered?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw, and I took it as a warning that I should have left the subject untouched. “Would you prefer that I wrestle it from you?” His voice was an eerie calm.
I gasped and raised an eyebrow in reprimand. “You wouldn’t.”
“Do you really believe that?” He moved even closer.
I skirted around him and stood in the doorway, prepared to make an escape if needed. This letter was my only leverage, and I didn’t plan to let it leave my grasp. “Just answer my question.”
He remained silent, jaw tight.
“It is much easier to pry into the business of others, isn’t it?” I said with a grin.
His eyes flashed. “It was never delivered because she married someone else.” He spit out the words as if they were poisoned. “She married for money. So forgive me, Miss Lyons, if I have suspected the worst of you. When your heart is broken by an act, it’s not one you soon forget, and though I’m not hunted for such a thing as fortune, I can imagine it’s equally painful to be loved for your holdings rather than your heart.”
I pieced his words together in my mind, trying to make sense of them. “Are you implying that I’m here to secure Lord Trowbridge? He was a friend of my father’s and I wish to meet him.” I knew the lie was pathetic, but I no longer cared. I had an advantage in my hands now, and I knew precisely how I intended to use it.
Mr. Wortham uncrossed his arms and fixed me with a look of reprimand. “I do hope that is true.”
It took much effort, but I didn’t look away from his intense gaze. That seemed to be answer enough, because his posture relaxed. His eyes returned to the letter, and I instinctively gripped it tighter. “Now,James,” I appreciated the slight roll of his eyes, “I intend to keep this letter. And unless you provide me the information I seek, I will send it to Lucy Abbotandher father, binding you in honor to marry her.” My heart pounded.
He watched me with scrutiny, his stare cold as ice. “You wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“I’m afraid there’s a great deal you don’t know about me.” I repeated his words with a look of triumph.
I turned around and walked out the door, knowing he would follow me. I stepped into the crisp, wet air, and tucked the letter beneath my shawl to keep it from becoming soaked. Turning around, I watched Mr. Wortham trudge toward me, an unforgiving look in his eyes.
I smiled. “I do not seek your good opinion. I am simply doing what needs to be done to receive what I want.”
He approached tentatively. Every line of his face was drawn out in exasperation and irritation. When he stopped, he was only two feet away. “You would willingly ruin my life for a few pieces of trivial information?” His eyes seemed to touch my soul, and I knew he was expecting an answer. I found myself suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze.
Weeks before I wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. But something inside of me had begun to change, something I didn’t dare examine for fear of what I might find. There was vulnerability in the answer ‘no,’ so without knowing for certain, I answered what Charlotte from Hampshire would say.
“Of course.”
Mr. Wortham ran a hand over his hair and muttered something I didn’t quite catch. After standing for several moments in silence, he said, “Very well. Come with me.” He didn’t wait to see if I would follow, but walked up the path without turning his head. I took the opportunity to slip the letter in my boot unnoticed.
I caught up to him, struggling to keep up with his long strides. We walked in silence for several minutes, until I saw the rooftop of Lord Trowbridge’s home peeking out between the dark clouds.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
James gave me a look out of the corner of his eye that was more glare than glance. “As it turns out, both your demands come intertwined. You wish to know more about the mysterious Lord Trowbridge, and you are in desperate need of suitable employment. I hoped to know of your past before I recommended you for the job, but it seems I have no choice in the matter now.” Another barbed look was cast my way. “Lord Trowbridge is seeking a governess for his young daughter, and I am taking you there to meet them.”
I almost stopped walking. A governess? A young daughter? I tried to make sense of those words, but we were drawing closer to the house with each second. Working in the earl’s household while trying to win his heart would be vastly improper. “Should—should you not call before barging on his door?”
Mr. Wortham shook his head swiftly. “I am always welcome.”
I scrunched my forehead in confusion. “How did you come to know him so well?” We were in front of the enormous house now, and Mr. Wortham moved forward, undaunted, up the front steps. I followed, wondering if he had even heard my question.
I was about to ask again, when he rapped his knuckles against the door and answered, “I know him so well, Charlotte, because he is my brother.”
