Page 24 of A Heart Worth Loving

He laughed. “So, I am right. For a man to swallow a ridiculous story like that, he must be smitten.”

“That—” The story had been ridiculous. And he had believed her, for he had come to her house looking to borrow their dog. Then he’d kissed her. Her cheeks warmed.

“You never blush,” her father said. “What else happened?”

“N-nothing,” she shot back. “I simply think your line of reasoning leaves much to be desired.”

He laughed. “I know men, my dear. We are, at heart, simple creatures. We need little to be happy. Food, a good fight now and again, and a beautiful woman. The last can make up for a lack of the first two. I believe we can use this to our benefit.”

Kyla jumped to her feet. “We cannot. This is the end of it with Blackstone Abbey. If Ewan—Lord Kilbreck”—she groaned inwardly at the knowing look that flashed across her father’s face—“has reported my presence at Blackstone Abbey to the constable, then to try and use the abbey again is suicide. If he has not reported anything to the constable, then we can count ourselves lucky.”

“Either way, I must check to be certain the cargo has been moved.”

“Does it really matter at this point?” she asked. “Papa, we cannot risk that this Mister Laurent might find you.”

“The abbey may be the very place for me to hide,” he mused.

“You have lost your mind. That is the very place you should avoid.”

“I would only have to hide for three days,” he said, as if speaking to himself. “When the ship delivers the goods, I will sail with it.”

He truly had gone insane. “I tell you, Papa, the abbey’s new owners are intelligent men. They will discover you there.”

“I do not have to enter that same room. There is always the dungeon. It isn’t as convenient as the secret room, but we have little choice. I know of no one else who can store the shipment.”

A soft tap-tap sounded at the door. They both snapped their gazes in the direction of the door. Kyla looked at her father. He nodded toward the door.

“Who is it?” Kyla called.

“Clara, Miss. Your mother is asking that you come to the parlor. There is a gentleman here she wants to introduce you to.”

For an instant, Kyla thought the gentleman had to be Constable Hamilton, then she realized Clara would have called him by name. Ewan? Nae, he wouldn’t come—unless—

She looked at her father.

“Tell her you will be down in a moment,” he whispered.

“I-I will be down in a moment,” Kyla said.

“Yes, Miss.”

Her footsteps faded, and Kyla said, “Who do you think it is?”

“Do not fear, Kyla. If the visitor is Laurent, he does not know me. He is simply investigating everyone in the area in an attempt to find me.”

Kyla’s knees weakened. “Oh, Papa, you cannot go to prison.”

“I have no intention of going to prison. For all we know, the visitor is not Laurent. Now, go downstairs and be yourself.” She started toward the door, and he said, “Say nothing of my being here to your mother or sister.”

She stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder. “I shall return when I can.”

By the time Kyla reached the parlor, she’d convinced herself the visitor couldn’t possibly be Mister Laurent. The tall, broad-shouldered man sitting in the chair nearest her mother stood as Kyla entered. She guessed him to be about thirty-five years of age. His blue eyes reminded her of crystals—and didn’t like the penetrating look.

“Kyla, there you are,” her mother said. “I would like you to meet Mister Harris. He is considering buying Baron Carrs’ estate.”

Mister Harris gave a slight bow. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Brodrick.”

A tremor rippled through her. He spoke with a perfect, cultured English accent.