Her very first, entirely unhelpful thought was,Well, of course I know them.
In her previous life, Isobel Tinker had been interesting. She had not planned the journeys of other girls; she’d forged a journey all her own. It had been so very long since she had shocked anyone, and it felt... it felt—
Well, it made no difference how it felt. Now, more than ever, she was meant to be boring and expected.
She asked, “Is that your first question?”
“No, no, no...” he was shaking his head, “...only a fool would ask a yes-or-no question. Allow me to rephrase.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me everything you know about the pirates. And how you know it. Including how they are connected to the ruling families you mentioned. And how I might use the connection to my advantage.” He patted around on his greatcoat, and pulled out a small notebook and graphite pencil. He flipped open the book and tapped the point of the pencil against a blank page. He looked to her expectantly.
Isobel stared at the pencil, her heart pounding. She’dbeen careless. She’d been selfish and vain—trying to impress him. Of course he would home in on the pirates.
“Miss Tinker?” he prompted. “If you please?”
“That’s five questions in one,” she said. “You’re making a general inquiry about a broad range of topics, which is nothing like we agreed.”
“I’m amending what we agreed, Miss Tinker.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“I thought you’d be telling me things like which inns to avoid—”
“There are no inns in Iceland,” she mumbled.
“—or to wear a woolly hat.”
“Your existing hat will be sufficient.”
“Stop,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Please. Miss Tinker. You may not know this, but Icouldcultivate and cajole you into telling me. I could finesse the answers from you. I respect you and your cleverness. Not to mention, there’s no time. So...” He stood up and patted his greatcoat again, producing a bulging leather pouch. “Instead, to speed the process along, I am willing topayyou. Fifty pounds. A sum that would do most anybody good. Especially you.”
Isobel gaped at him.
“May we dispense with the scorekeeping about the number of questions and get down to these pirates? In exchange for this lovely bundle of money?”
Isobel stared at the pouch. Her heart began to boom in her ears as if it was knocking to escape.
“You wouldpayme?” she asked breathlessly.
He rolled from the bench and ambled to the birdbath. “Forgive me for thinking that a tidy sum would be useful in your current situation.”
“Now I know why you were lurking about. You werelistening to my private conversations, searching for some weakness to exploit.”
“To be perfectly clear, in no way do you appear ‘weak,’ Miss Tinker.”
“That’s because I am not weak,” she shot back. “I am... backed against a wall.”
“You won’t take the money?”
“I’ve no choice but to take the bloody money.” She threw up her hands. She took a deep breath. “I regret that it’s come to this. I regretneedingmoney. I regret being sacked from my job. I regret the painful personal circumstances that keep me from being more useful to you.”
It was all true. So many regrets. She detested regret. For years, she’d outpaced it. It was always there, but if she worked hard enough and said and did enough of the correct things, it did not hound her. But now?
Now she did not feel hounded so much as... tempted.
She began shaking her head. In a firm but wistful voice, she said, “I was so very contented just twelve hours ago. I had a pleasant job, doing work at which I excelled, with a snug flat above the shop. And without a single thought ofIceland.” She enunciated the word in the way one might say,purgatory.
The duke sniggered. “Ah. A sentiment I understand. I had a life I loved, traveling the world, working for the Foreign Office. I’ve served in India. In the palace courts of Europe. Spain during the war.”
Before she could stop herself, she asked, “You loved the war?”
