Page 30 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

“Very poorly. We managed to lose ourselves in the East End. That’s where I picked up the accent. I was always good at imitating voices. The money ran out and I couldn’t get much for my mother’s jewelry—everyone assumed I’d stolen it. After that I stole food and anything I could pawn. Poppy caught cold, and I wasn’t that good at thievery—nor with defending us. I was having to pick all that up as I went. I was close to despair. And that’s when Asquith showed up.”

“Asquith? The spymaster?”

She nodded. “Yes, Spider himself. I told you that he had a finger on every pulse, spies all around. He had noticed me, and he had decided I was trainable. I spoke French like a native because I learned from my mother, which was also useful. He offered me a job.”

“Spying? You were a child!”

“I was fourteen. And killing a man and surviving in the stews of London makes one grow up quickly. To me Asquith was a gift from heaven. The chance to flee England, to have my tracks covered by a man with power. Training, food, a roof over my head, security. It was work I was suited for. I was angry and I wanted the danger. But, of course, I couldn’t take Poppy. I didn’t think about it at first, but as I went along, that became clear to me. Asquith said he knew a couple—good people with money and education and kind hearts. They were unable to have children and wanted to adopt a child. It was a perfect situation for both them and Poppy.”

“But not for you.” Nathan watched her.

“No. Not for me. But I knew I could not take care of her. Obviously I couldn’t take her with me to France, and without Asquith’s offer, I’d have no money. How was I to raise her? I dreamed for a while that I could let her live with them and still stay in her life—come back to see her from time to time, maybe get enough money to create a home for the two of us someday. But Asquith made me see that was folly. A spy cannot afford attachments.”

“Asquith is another man with a great deal to answer for,” Nathan said grimly.

“Yes. But he was right—about that, at least. It would have been unkind to both Poppy and her new parents if I had popped back into her life now and then, keeping alive her old memories. Not to mention the fact that I might have led my enemies to their doorstep. Spying was not a position with a long life. I figured it was better for Poppy to grieve me while she was still so young. I thought maybe, in time, she would forget about our childhood—even if that meant also forgetting me. So I handed her over to the couple and told her I loved her but I could not stay. A few months later Asquith spread the rumor that I had been killed in France. I don’t know exactly what Poppy learned, but the Bow Street Runners stopped searching for me. I haven’t seen Poppy since the day I left. Except from a distance.”

Nathan wrapped his arms around Verity, holding her close. The embrace was warm and comforting, and she leaned against him for a moment, soothed by the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear and the encircling protection of his arms. It would be so nice, so easy to give in to this feeling. To depend on him.

Easy and wrong. Nathan was staunchly loyal and his sympathy so easily aroused. She could not entangle him further; she had to give him the chance to free himself of her past.

Verity put her hands against his chest and stepped back, gently but firmly pulling out of his arms. “There. That is my tale. Poppy is the woman you saw me spying on. No doubt that is reprehensible.”

“No. It’s tragic.”

Verity shrugged. “As I said, I realized that you have a right to know that the woman you are pretending to woo is a murderer. If someone were to recognize me and discover what I’ve done, you would be embroiled in the scandal. At the very least, you would be made a laughingstock for being duped by me.”

“I will be embroiled in a scandal if Malcolm Douglas tells his tale, and I suspect I was laughed at often enough before,” he said lightly. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Perhaps I should offer you the chance to avoid being connected to me.”

Unexpected tears caught in her throat. Verity wanted to return to his arms, but that, she knew, would be a bad idea. Their former embrace might have been mere friendship, but Verity knew that right now she wanted to kiss him, and this was the worst place to indulge herself.

She shook her head. “Really, Nathan, you all but ask others to take advantage of you.” She turned and started for the door. “Come. I think a spot of tea is in order. Or perhaps something stronger.”

As they went down the stairs, she went on, “You really should take better care. Your kind heart will get you into trouble one day.”

“I shouldn’t like to be the sort of man who measures his friendship by whether it is an advantage or detriment to himself.”

“That’s a very ‘Nathan’ way of looking at things.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t really know any other way.” He grinned.

“No. I don’t suppose you do. And the world is a better place for it.”

CHAPTER TEN

THE FOLLOWING DAY, Nathan and Verity each took a section of London and went around to the inns, looking for Malcolm Douglas. It was, Nathan soon decided, a fool’s errand. There were far too many places to stay in the city, and the odds of stumbling on the man were exceedingly slender. For all they knew, he was staying under an assumed name.

Searching by himself was tedious. Whatever one might be able to say about Verity, that was not an adjective that would apply to any task done with her. Things were often outlandish, tense, surprising. But never boring. Nathan had the uneasy feeling that when this was all over and he returned to his everyday life, it, too, would feel humdrum.

He spent much of the day thinking about Verity—about the kiss the other night and all the reasons he should not continue down that path. And when he wasn’t daydreaming or lecturing himself, his mind went to Verity’s past. He hated what had happened to her, and he hated just as much that there was nothing he could do to make it better.

Of course, Verity would dismiss with scorn the idea that Nathan should do anything for her. She was above all self-sufficient. She needed no one. He’d been taken aback by her attitude at first, but he’d never really thought about what in her life had led her to be that way. Verity had had no one to depend on, no relative or friend, not even a clergyman who should have given her aid. She had earned her independence in a hellish crucible.

It was no wonder Verity found Nathan rather useless. She was right in saying he viewed the world from a far different perspective. His father had been a good man, with whatever discipline he doled out tempered by love. George had set the example for honor and loyalty that his son had followed. Whatever money problems the Dunbridges had, there had always been enough to get by, and it had not affected their status in the ton.

Nathan had been an only child, but he had had good friends who had been as much family as friends, and there had been Lord and Lady Drewsbury, adults whom Nathan could always turn to in times of trouble. He had grown up knowing his place in the world was secure. In short, he had never really had to face any adversity. His worst problem had been his years of unrequited love, and his hardest decisions every day were what waistcoat and jacket to wear.

He had to wonder how he would have fared if he had grown up in Verity’s situation. What sort of man would I have become?