Fallon blinked. “She’s gone?”
“Indeed,” Eliza confirmed with a nod. “After Martina was arrested for theconspiracy tomurder Josephine Stuart’s husband, she packed everything up and left.”
The air around her suddenly became rather thin and she found it difficult to draw a full breath. “What did you say?”
Eliza leaned closeras if toimpart a secret. “It turns out thatJosephinewasn’t seeing Mr. Clare because they werereconciledlovers, but becausethey were working together to gainenough evidence to prove that Martina covered up themurderofJosephine’s husband, whohad been a dear friend of Atticus. But to make their time together appear convincing, and so Martina wouldn’t become suspicious, they chose to make it look as though they were having atete-a-tete.When you were gone, Martina attempted to clean up another mess that her son made, the murder of a harlot, but she was quite literally caught in the act and hauled off to gaol where she finally broke down and confessed to the rest of her sins.”
It wasn’t often that Fallon was at a loss for words, but after what Eliza had just imparted…
Eliza looped her arm through Fallon’s. “Let’s get you home.”
She glanced over. “Home?”
“Of course.” Eliza scrunched up her nose. “Shawsea Hall is still your home as far as I’m concerned. Even if you might not have fond memories of your stay there, I hope that will change. You are certainly welcome and I daresay I can’t wait to hear about your adventures abroad.”
“I… suppose.” Fallon hesitated, for she hadn’t thought further ahead than the cabin on board theAlgonda. But now that she was back in Southampton, she did need somewhere to stay and since Atticus hadn’t yetmentioned anythingaboutgoingwith him, she had little choice but to take Eliza up on her generous offer.
Eliza pulled her over to where her betrothed was still speaking to Sean and Atticus. “I’m taking Fallon to Shawsea Hall for somefriendly chit-chat.”
Fallon’s gaze shifted to Atticus to see his expression, but it was carefully shuttered. “I think that’s a good idea. I imagine some female companionship will do you some good.” He walked forward and brought her hand to his lips. “I’ll see you later tonight.”
It was the sincere promise in his gaze that made Fallonbreathe a bit easier. Shenoddedher head and departedwith Elizaand Brendan, whoofferedto escort them.
Fallonclimbed into the carriage andrisked alook back at the docks one last time, before allowing the curtain to fall back into place.
***
“Why did you let her go?” Sean scolded at Atticus’s side.
As the carriage rolled away, Fallon’s face appeared in the window and she flattened her palm on the glass. Atticus resisted the urge to lift his hand at the same moment, as if by doing so, he could feel the touch of her hand from this distance.
Instead, he reluctantly turned to Sean. “Don’t you think it’s better if I approach her with a ring in hand when next we meet?” He lifted a brow. “I’m going to the estate to retrieve my grandmother’s wedding band.”
Sean snorted. “I suppose I stand corrected. For a ruthless bandit, you have a bit of a romantic side to you after all.”
“Formerbandit,” Atticus returned. “And I have my moments.”
As he parted ways with Flannery and retrieved his horse from the stables, he headed for Clare Manor.
Normally, his parents weren’t in residence, but he was surprised to find that they were home when he handed his horse over to the groom.
When Atticus walked up the steps, he was greeted by the butler who offered a respectful bow. “Mr. Clare. The squire requested a brief word with you when you arrived. He is in the study.”
Atticus nodded and headed in that direction. It wasn’t often that his father asked much of him, so he was inclined to humor him out of curiosity if nothing else.
He knocked briefly on the door and then let himself inside.
Wade Clare was seated behind the oak desk and was writing something in a ledger when Atticus entered. The relief on the older man’s face was evident as he set down his pen and leaned back in the chair. “I’ve been worried about you, Atticus.”
It wasn’t the greeting that he’d been expecting, although he was grateful for it. For so long he’d been at odds with his father it was refreshing to know that his sire cared about his welfare. He spread his arms wide. “I am alive and well as you can see, but then, living a merchant life isn’t known for its perils.”
“No, I suppose not.” Wade smiled,the slight crinkles around his eyes deepening,makingthe silver streaks athistemplesa bitmore pronounced.“But raiding English vessels can certainly causeirrefutable damage.”
Alltheteasingabruptlyleft Atticus’s voice. “What?”
“I may be old, but I do know my son.” He stood and walked around the desk.“Care for a drink?”Heheaded forthe sideboard andpoured some brandy into a crystal tumbler.
Atticus frowned, for he’d never known his father to imbibe unless he was particularly upset over something. “Indeed,” he murmured.
