“Why are you here?” he asked her, certain the sound of her voice would sooth him through some of the pain.
Again, she was quiet for a time. Then she said, “I told Miss Lockhart she must leave in the morning.”
“And the guilt is eating at you,” he finished for her. He felt her shrug rather than saw it.
“I blundered horribly bringing her to Hope House. It was a terrible mistake. She’s pretentious, self-serving. Sheliedabout stealing Inez’s gloves.Thatis unforgivable.” Her anger with the girl seemed to bolster her confidence in an odd fashion of sorts.
“I see. But you knew all of that, my dear. What is the real reason?”
“I—” Her stitching paused momentarily, and he risked a hooded glance to look at her, needle in one hand. She leaned forward and swiped her eyes on her sleeve. With another breath, she continued her task. “She’s an awful girl. Yet…she reminds me of…me,” she whispered. Her fingers moved with methodical precision, and he suspected he wouldn’t even harbor a scar when all was said and done.
“Rose, darling, listen to me. You risked your life to save the girl. If,if, you are anything like Miss Lockhart, you may put it down to youthful selfishness. I suppose the question now is, what are you going to do about her?”
She sniffed back more tears, though discreetly. “I didn’t want to turn her out, you know. But I gave her every opportunity to confess to taking the gloves, and she was defiant to the end. I can’t allow her to ruin everything Gabriella and Rebecca have worked so hard on for Hope House. I-I just can’t.”
He was at a loss for words, and it drove him mad being unable to take her in his arms.
“I-I require advice on what to do about her aunt, Lady Lockhart. The woman cannot be allowed to get away with selling her niece to a brothel. Who did this to you?” she demanded suddenly without pausing.
Something he had no intention of answering, saying instead, “Do you know for sure that was the case? That her aunt sold her? The girl has lied regarding how she obtained Miss Macy’s gloves. Could she also be issuing a falsehood on how she ended up in Whitefriars as well?”
Rose’s fingers stopped, and she looked at him. “I…Well, that never occurred to me.” She resumed her stitching, and his skin was quite numb by now. “I don’t think so. The two young women I overheard talking are the ones who mentioned Whitefriars.” She let out a long breath. “Then again, I suppose Viola could have planted the notion.”
The stitching stopped, but her fingers did not, and after a series of motions, she sat back on her heels. “There. All done.”
“How does it look?” he asked lightly.
She lifted surprised eyes to his, then back to her handiwork. “I told you, I’m excellent with a needle, though you have more stitches than I can count. How the devil did this happen?” she asked again, frowning.
There was that ridiculously adorable spaniel, again, panting after the meat, he thought with a sigh. “Our carriage was attacked.”
She seemed to take that in stride. “And how did Stockton end up with you? I don’t picture you having patience with the likes of him.”
“We stopped at Boodle’s. Shufflebottom is scamming the idiot. I found I dislike that notion more than I dislike Stockton.Some, er, miscreant smashed the window in, and there was a slight scuffle.”
Doubt, suspicion appeared in those raised brows. “Slight?”
He ignored that. “In any event, Stockton was so inebriated, he slept through the entire ordeal.”
A thoughtful hush came over her as she watched him. He found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the different emotions flitting over her face, then her eyes narrowed. “You saved him from Shufflebottom,” she accused softly. “It was over that vowel we found in his safe! Ha, I suppose you told Shuff you would pay it?”
Good God.
“I’m right. I know it! If I’m remembering correctly, it was over three thousand pounds.” A thoughtful glint lit her eyes. “I suppose the apple does not fall far from the tree,” she said on a huffed breath.
A skitter of dread rippled over his skin. “What do you mean?”
“Lady Lockhart is his aunt.”
“Youmustbe jesting.”
She smiled, a genuine smile then dropped her head in her hands. “What a pair of saintly sorts we are turning out to be.”
That wasnota label he cared to be associated with. “Why don’t you talk to your brother about Lady Lockhart?”
She let out a highly unladylike snort. “Because then he would weasel out of me how Viola came into my company. Rebecca and Gabriella are bursting at the seams with curiosity as it is.”
A sudden bout of lust hit his lower abdomen. “I think I hurt my lip,” he told her.
