Harlan stopped what he was doing and pinned his companion with a glare. “Who says I’m doing that now?”
Hugh’s stare was just as steady. “Whenever your captive’s name is mentioned, you close yourself off. I don’t understand what is going on in that head of yours. You have never acted this rashly before.”
Harlan frowned, because he couldn’t explain what he didn’t yet understand. But rather than admit the truth, he remained silent.
“She seemed a decent sort. I liked her.”
Harlan tossed down his bag and set his hands on his hips. “We have an early start in the morning.” He hoped that would put an end to this conversation.
“Are you sure you should be here and not riding back to her as if the devil himself was on your heels?”
“That wouldn’t accomplish our goal to stop this assassin,” Harlan pointed out. He busied himself by rolling out his pack.
“You aren’t the only man who is tasked with keeping the monarchy safe. You could have just as easily sent a missive to Wellington—”
“I’m an agent for the Crown. It ismyjob.”
Hugh sighed heavily. “I know I shouldn’t overstep, but—”
“Then don’t,” Harlan snapped. He had reached the end of his tolerance. “I know what I’m doing. And if I have already made a mess of things, it is up to me to sort them out. What I don’t need is for you to tell me how to live my life or conduct my personal affairs!” He lowered his tone when he realized that he had been shouting. “I appreciate that you are doing your best to help, but when the occasion calls for me to require your advice, I shall ask for it then. However, I do not need it now, when I am trying to focus on matters of life and death.”
Hugh nodded, appearing to consider his words. “I merely wish for you to have the same happiness as I have with my Marie. I’ve known you for many years, ever since we were both sowing our wild oats. I want to make sure you aren’t just trying to push Miss Lindquist away. You have had a tendency to do that in the past, claiming that it was your job that required it of you, but I have to wonder if it might be more than that compelling you to hold yourself at a distance.”
“Again, what I do is my choice. Let’s leave it at that.” Harlan averted his gaze as he continued to set up his makeshift bed for the night. As Hugh tossed out his tea and doused the fire, Harlan couldn’t stop thinking that Hugh was right. He did have a habit of blaming his line of work as the reason he couldn’t marry anyone and had kept his liaisons relatively brief. Then again, Harlan had witnessed the decline of his mother when his father had died. He didn’t want to put anyone through that sort of grief when he passed. Certainly not Leah.
Forcing himself to lie down and shut his eyes, he also willed himself not to think about Leah. But he knew that would be a losing battle.
The coach stoppedin front of the modest vicarage cottage on the outskirts of Birmingham in a little village called Dudley. Passing the landscape dotted with sheep and green rolling hills, Leah couldn’t help but compare her surroundings to that of Paris and what a markedly different turn her life had taken in such a short amount of time. A fortnight ago, she was packing up her belongings in the house she’d shared with her aunt, and the next, she was crossing the straits and looking upon the white cliffs of Dover following a lengthy absence.
But it wasn’t until she’d met Harlan Mathis that her life had irrevocably changed. She was still trying to figure out if it was a good—or bad—thing.
She forced down the lump that formed in her throat every time she thought about him, which was often. She remembered the feeling of loss when she’d awoken to find the bed empty and a single note on the pillow where his head had been the night before.
I praythat you will be able to forgive me in time. Know that I did not want to leave as I did, but I knew it was the only way I could keep you safe. Matthew will be by later this morning to take you to your brother.
H
That was it.A brief missive with no flowery prose or promises.
She’d stared blindly at the ceiling for an indeterminate amount of time, willing herself to feel some sort of emotion other than this terrible numbing void that had abruptly taken hold of her. She didn’t cry, or scream, or do anything but get up and gather her things, pin her hair and calmly wait for Matthew’s arrival.
When he assisted her onto the coach, it brought more painful memories, because she remembered the black velvet and interior lanterns all too well.
As the coach made its way over the countryside, she didn’t look solemnly out the window, or sag against the cushions to rest. She just remained as she was—stiff and… numb.
When the coach pulled into the vicarage yard and the door was opened, Leah alighted with the assistance of Matthew. He offered her a silent glance that said more than words ever would. It wasn’t until he was preparing to depart that she could feel the tide of emotion starting to well up within her as he finally bent down and whispered a few words of encouragement in her ear. “Don’t hesitate to send for me if you need anything. Rest assured, Harlan hasn’t deserted you. He is a good man and as loyal as anyone. He will come for you.”
When she glanced toward the door of the house and saw her brother standing there with a firm expression on his face, she turned to Matthew and said, “I fear by then it may be too late.”
Walking toward the entrance to the house, she waited for Henry to speak first. He looked just as she remembered him, tall and husky, but perhaps having more gray hair on his head and in the length of his generous muttonchops. “I see you finally made it,” he sniffed in obvious disapproval.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she returned demurely. “But if you received my letter, you will know the reasons.”
“Indeed. It was good of you to write so that my wife didn’t fret about you.”
Nothim. And neither did Henry ask how Leah was faring after her ordeal. It would have been the polite thing to do, but she was not surprised at his lack of concern. It had always been thus between them.
As the coach rolled away, she wanted to run back and climb inside and beg Matthew to take her back to Gravesend to the cottage that had become more of a home to her than this place ever would. She forced herself to turn around and put that part of her life behind her, with all the other disappointments and grief she’d faced.
