Page 30

Or had that brief kiss completely tilted her world, making her see everything from a new perspective?

Shelby hesitated in the doorway, glancing at Mrs. Beale with a polite deference that didn’t diminish his innate confidence. “I don’t wish to intrude.”

TEN

Mrs. Beale’s kitchen

A few seconds later

“A bit late for that concern.” Mrs. Beale inspected his disheveled garb with a critical eye. “You look like you’ve been dragged through the docks and back, lad.”

“Aye, well, we have been.” Unfazed at her censure, Shelby inclined his head.

“At least you’re honest.” Mrs. Beale’s lips twitched. “Come in, then, before you let all the warm air out.” Or someone spotted him. “I’m sure the two of you have quite the tale to tell.”

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him as he gave Roxina a questioning glance.

“Mrs. Beale, may I present Mr. Shelby Tellinger?” Roxina said, skipping formality. “Mr. Tellinger, this is Mrs. Eunice Beale.”

“Mrs. Beale. It is a pleasure.” Shelby bowed. “Roxina has told me of your kindness to her.”

Beaming, Mrs. Beale trundled to her sideboard. “Sit down while I prepare something for you to eat. You both look done in.”

“Mrs. Beale, I’m grateful, but we do not have time to eat,” Shelby said, his quiet earnestness stalling Mrs. Beale in her tracks.

With plates dangling from her hands, Mrs. Beale glanced between them. “I presume this is the fellow who is sending you anonymous letters?”

Good Lord.

“Oh, heaven’s no,” Roxina rushed to reassure her, appalled at the suggestion.

Shelby quickly intervened, handily changing the subject. “I fear we must impose upon your benevolence further.”

Ever perceptive, Mrs. Beale narrowed her gaze. “I think you need to explain to me just exactly what goes on here.”

Roxina swiftly recounted what had occurred—their abductions, their unexpected reunion, and how those brutal men believed she knew where her brother had taken refuge.

The older woman pressed her thin lips into a disapproving ribbon.

“Scoundrels, the lot of them,” she muttered. “And what do they want with you, dear girl?”

“I do not know where Mitchel is, but they won’t care. Mr. Tellinger and I must reach London to seek refuge at a friend’s house.” She brushed wind-blown hair off her face.

She was indeed a wreck.

Shelby nodded. “We need a distraction so Roxina can collect a few belongings from her cottage.”

“I cannot imagine how I can help you.” Mrs. Beale sank heavily into a chair, her face puckering in puzzlement.

“We need something to draw our pursuers’ attention while I slip into my cottage unseen.” Roxina placed her palm over the woman’s frail, arthritic fingers, hoping to steady her frayed nerves as much as offer reassurance. She curved her mouth into a humorless smile. “I don’t suppose you have a herd of stampeding cattle ready to charge through the village? A hungry dragon?”

A weak half-smile curving her mouth, Mrs. Beale shook her head, causing her nightcap to slip farther onto her forehead. Shoving it back into place, she said, “No, but I have a fat cat known to trip unsuspecting visitors and send them sprawling.”

A surprised laugh bubbled from Roxina’s throat, easing the tightness in her chest for a brief moment. “Well, if we were resorting to feline conspirators, that plan might work.”

But even as she forced levity into her voice, her mind remained fixed on the shadows lurking outside, the unknown menace awaiting them should they fail.

They could not fail.