Fallon couldn’t hold back ashiver of dreadas itbegan to work its way up the back of her spine. Something told her she knew what was coming.
“Locklyn Durmor is a fine catch in the community—”
Falloncouldn’t allowhertofinish.“No.”
The lady blinked, as if she hadn’t heard correctly. “Pardon me?”
Fallon clenched her fists in her lap. “Refuse his suit.”
Her auntgasped. “I will do no such thing!He is notyourenemy and you could certainly do no better. He is an upstanding memberand has a generous allowance—”
“I don’t care.”She shook her head and rose to her feet. “I didn’t come here to ensnare a husband, but to get to know the family I have remaining. I will not encourage his attentions, even if it is to please you.”
Francine’s eyes sharpened and Fallon knew her claws were about to make an appearance. She slowly stood and walked over to confrontFallon, eye to eye. In a soft voice that was no less threatening, she said, “I don’t need to bepleased, but rather compensated for my generosity. I have spent a sizeable sum of funds on you to ensure that you are outfitted properly. I held a ball in your honor and made sure that during your time here you will want for nothing.Ihaveopened myfrontdoor to you when othersmighthave slammed it in your face and this is how you repay me? By refusing a single request?”
Reluctantly, guilt swept over Fallon and she had to grit her teeth to keep fromreplying in kind. Buteverything she said was true. Shemight not haveasked for heraunt’scharity, and yet, she had accepted itblindly. She hadneatlyfallen into her trap and until she could figure a way to get out of it, she was at her mercy. Nevertheless, Fallonintended to write Father O’Leary in Carraroeand appeal to him for help. Surely, he would understand her plight and take mercy on her since they were old friends.
But for now, Fallon had to swallow her pride and do what was expected of her. Even then, it took all of her will to say, “Very well. I will entertain Mr. Durmor.But I insist that Eliza or a maidbepresent as a chaperone.” She would certainly not be alone with him.
A curl of satisfaction touched Francine’s lips. “Of course. I wouldn’t suggest otherwise for fear of damaging your reputation.” Fallonhad the sensation that her aunt didn’t believe that she had anything worthy to uphold. But she said nothingelsecontrary asshetook her leave.
The momentFrancinewas gone, Fallonwalked over to the deskin her chamberand sat down. She withdrew a sheet of vellum, removed the lid from the inkwell,and took upthepen.For a moment, she paused to consider what shemightsay,for she doubted the priest would assist if she told him she wanted him to relieve her from an impending courtship. Even if she told him the circumstances surrounding Locklyn’s suit, he would likely encourage her to stay.
So that only left one option.
For the pastfew months,before she left Ireland,she’d been witness to Father O’Learyreceivinganonymousdonations tothe priory.Fallonhad never said anything, for it wasdistributedto help the entire village, but she’d always knownthe funds had come fromthe Raven. He was theonlyman who had theright kindof resources at his disposalto offer such a welcome relief to the villagers.
AsFallonscribbled away on the paper, she pushed aside her conscience andblatantlylied toa man of the cloth.Shetold him thatsheknew where to findthe Raven, and unlesshesentpassage for her return to Carraroe, she would take her information to the authorities.Of course, even if she was in possession of such knowledge, she would do no such thing, but it was the only thing she could think of to get Father O’Leary’s attention.She just hoped that he would see it for what it truly was, a desperate cry for help.
After foldingthe letterand sealing it, she quickly rang forIngridbefore she could change her mind. Afterthe maid had assisted herlight blueriding habit,Fallonheaded downstairs with the missive clutched tightly to her chest, fearful that Francine would appear and pry it from her grasp.
She made it to the front doorwithout incident, but just as shegrabbed for the knob, it was pushed open from the other side. With a gasp, Fallon stepped back as Eliza walkedin, whileshe hid the letter inside the folds of her dress.
“Fallon! I was just coming to find you.”Her cousin’s cheery voice seemed to echo loudly in the foyer. “Are you heading out?”
Fallonnodded, already heading outside.“I was, actually. Ihave… something to take to Mrs. Andrews.”She winced inwardly as another lie rolled from her tongue. Now she was using the tenants in her web of deceit.
Eliza smiled, oblivious to Fallon’s pounding heart. “In that case I won’t keep you. We’ll just chat when you return.”
Fallonnodded and scurried down to the stableswhere Abrams wasbrushing down her cousin’s mare.“I need you to saddle Honey for me,” she implored, referring to the blond mare that she normally rodewhenshe joinedher cousin.
Abrams must have noted her sudden anxiousness, for he asked, “Is something amiss?”
“No. Just in a bit of a rush is all.”
He nodded his understanding and quickly saddledthe horse for her.
Once she was in the sidesaddle, Fallon urged the mare into a canter and didn’t breathe easily until she had tied the mare up in front of the postal office. She glanced around her surroundings before she walked inside,as if the Raven himself would appear and demand to know the reason for her subterfuge.
Instead, she spied atall, dark-haired man striding along the street. His chiseled facewasin profile, butherheart immediately began to pound, for as much as she’d tried to put the incomparable Mr. Atticus Clare out of her thoughts it had been nearly impossible to do so. In truth, he’d never left her mind since the day she’d met him at the harbor, butseeing him with Josephinethenightbeforehadovershadowedher most recent daydreams.
However, there was still just something aboutthat dominating airwhichdemandedattention and like a mothdrawnto a flame. Frozen in place,she followed his progress down the busy street until he waseventuallylost to the crowd.It shouldn’tbeanyof her concern,butshecontemplatedwhere he might be heading. Eliza had told her that Southampton had their share of brothels and illicit taverns like any other town,although inCarraroe, the worst shehadreceived was a leering stare by a passing sailor who was making his way to the pub, but it never lasted long and she never feared as though she was in danger.
But hearing Eliza speak of thehalf-dressedwomen who paraded about certain areas of the city madeFalloncringe. The worst, she’d claimed, was a place called the Hog’s HeadPubwhereworst dregs of societywould frequent. Thankfully, it was in another part of the city andshedidn’t have to goanywherenear it.
But wasMr. Clarethe sort of man tofrequentsuch a place?Withhisscandalous reputation,hemight appear to be areputablegentleman on the outside, but she had no doubt that danger, something secretive and unknown,lurked beneath that virile exterior. He wasprobablythe type of man who would break a woman’sheartand leave without a second glance.Shewondered if that’s what happened withJosephine.
She shook her head and headed into the postal office, determined to erase Atticus Clare from her thoughts.
