She clutched the letter and her vow as she tiptoed down to the kitchen. As she ladled the stew into a bowl. As she devoured the heavenly concoction and ignored the tears blurring her eyes.
Chapter 4
The smell of baking bread and fresh herbs greeted her as she entered the kitchen the next morning. She nearly skipped a step in relief. Mrs. Rosaire had helped her dress, and she hoped the woman had cooked again—the stew had been delicious.
She paused in the doorway. Noble paged through papers on the heavily scarred table and sipped a cup of tea. A fine line of steam danced above the rim of his cup and lifted into the air.
She didn’t move for a second, once more stunned by the physical presence of the man. She stepped forward, determined not to do anything foolhardy like trip or stare. Without looking up, he gestured to the teapot, and she nodded gratefully at the activity presented. She poured a full cup, the mug warming her hands.
“Interesting reading?” She indicated the stack of papers with her cup. “That looks like quite a brief.” She was determined to be congenial this morning.
Noble stopped turning pages and regarded her, a lock of hair falling into one eye. “These are the notes on your brother’s case. Mostly legal jargon. But a Mr. Archibald Penner is the one who captured your brother and claimed the reward.”
Marietta stiffened and reached for the papers. Surprisingly, he relinquished them to her without protest.
She skimmed the pages until she came upon the last one. Archibald Penner’s address was listed. He lived near Clerkenwell.
Noble poured another cup of tea. “Would you like to pay Mr. Penner a visit?” He regarded her over the steaming cup, tendrils twining around his green eyes and dissipating into the air. A demon asking if she’d care to wreak vengeance.
She looked at the page in her hand. All of the other lines blurred so that the address stood starkly against the crisp parchment.
“Yes,” she whispered. This was the man who had sent Kenny to prison and whose testimony might send him to his death.
A finger lifted her chin, a dark, too handsome face mere inches from hers. Lips of sin formed words. “Best put revenge from your mind, then, this instant,” he said, his finger pulling a line under her chin, his expression going from devilish to steady. “Otherwise you won’t step a foot through that door.”
She nearly balked, so sure that he had been promising the dark only to rip it away. The tip of her tongue strained, but she swallowed her curt response. The edges of his mouth curled as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, a devil playing her emotions, making it doubly hard to keep silent.
He rose and removed a loaf of bread from the oven, the smell of rosemary and dill wafted through the air. He cut two pieces and slathered a dollop of butter on top of each.
He placed one slice in front of her and rearranged himself back in his chair, tilting back on the hind legs.
“You will become used to it, Marietta.” His voice was deep and melodic.
She looked up from the hot, buttery bread to his eyes. “Used to what?”
“Listening to me.”
He smirked, and she concentrated on the pat of butter melting into the fluff. “I doubt I will get used to any such thing.”
She gently pulled the bread apart and the soft center touched her tongue. She spared a thought for Mrs. Rosaire, a true genius in the kitchen.
“Everyone follows, sooner or later. Much easier for you if you allow it sooner.” Noble balanced on the chair legs and tapped a finger against the wooden arm.
She swallowed the pillowy concoction. “You are insufferable.”
“And you are nothing short of a delight.”
She didn’t need to hear the mocking to know the fallacy of that statement. It was obviously a prime sentiment in her household as well, if last night was anything to go by.
“How long have you been taking care of your brothers?”
A crumb fell to the table and she made a production of clearing it away. The topic change wasn’t as easy to dismiss.
“I don’t know of what you speak.”
“I learned a few things from your servants last night. And gathered more this morning. Including reports from a few creditors.”
How had he gotten his hands on those already? She silently cursed her servants. They would tell every secret they knew, and there was little she could do about it without a penny to her name. She wondered if Noble hadconversedwith Carla.
