Page 80 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

“Perhaps in a day or two, we could call on you. You might have remembered something about this Tolliver fellow to help us find him.”

Malcolm frowned. “I don’t want word of this getting out. The scandal would hurt my mother terribly.”

“We won’t say anything,” Nathan replied. “I give you my word. I would prefer to avoid the scandal, as well.”

“Thank you.” Malcolm looked relieved. He paused, then said, looking a trifle abashed, “And I’m sorry for what I said, you know, about your family. It’s just, well, I’ll always be a Douglas.”

A few minutes later, after they left the Douglas house, Verity said, “You don’t seem to be destined for a warm relationship with your newfound brother.”

“No, I fear you’re right,” Nathan replied. The lack of that possibility was too little to bother him with the weight of Verity leaving dragging him down. “I don’t suppose I’ll miss what I never had.”

They rode back to Verity’s house, silent most of the way. Nathan could think of nothing but the fact that with Malcolm back, their case really was over. Verity could leave now, her duty done. Nathan’s stomach knotted at the prospect. He couldn’t just let her go like this.

Verity was frowning as she looked out the window of the carriage, and Nathan wondered if she, too, was dreading the end of their time together. That hope was dashed when she said, “I hate that this Will Tolliver—if that’s even his name—will get away with everything.”

“So do I.” Nathan hadn’t been thinking about it, but he felt the same way. “Not to mention Shoemaker and Hill.”

“Look at all the things they’ve done—attacked us, abducted Malcolm, tried to blackmail you—and we’re going to let them just walk off?”

“I don’t like it any better than you,” Nathan said. “I’d like to go after them, too, but I don’t see how we can charge them without bringing Malcolm and my father into it and setting off exactly the scandal we were trying to avoid.”

“I know.” Verity sighed. “Malcolm has suffered enough—though I must say, he was certainly ungracious to you, so I find it harder to care about his reputation. But I do care about yours.”

Her words warmed Nathan. But there was that word again: care. He would like to think that she simply found it difficult to say the word love rather than believe she didn’t feel it. Verity had learned in a hard school to keep her emotions buttoned up. But his doubts warred with that hope.

They reached her door, and she turned to him. Nathan thought of all the other times they had arrived here and he had entered as if he belonged. It hurt to stand here like a stranger and bid her good-bye. “I...um, well, I suppose you will be leaving soon now. Since we found Malcolm.”

Verity nodded and looked away. Nathan might never see her again. He wanted to plead with her to stay, to tell her that he would go with her wherever she wanted, married or not. But if she didn’t love him, he couldn’t make her. He had to let her go.

He opened his mouth to say good-bye, but the words that came out were, “Lady Lockwood is expecting us at eight this evening. I’ll be here to escort you fifteen minutes prior.”

Before she could protest, he turned and strode off down the street. He expected her to come after him to argue or to call out a refusal after him, but she did not. He wasn’t sure what that meant; he hoped it meant he had a chance. He was not going to lose Verity.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

VERITY KNEW SHE should have told Nathan no. There was no reason, no excuse for going to Lady Lockwood’s. She needed to go upstairs and start packing. She would be leaving soon, now that it was all over. It was too risky to continue operating anywhere near Stanhope, now that he knew she was alive. It hurt to leave her business, though it paled beside the hurt of leaving Nathan. She’d have to trust that Poppy would be fine, even if Verity couldn’t check in on her sister herself anymore.

Only nothing felt over. Not the case, not her life in London, and most of all, not her relationship with Nathan. Today had been the strangest tangle of emotions—happy, sad, excited, nervous—one moment awkward silence and the next sweet familiarity and comfort, followed by a sudden stab of pain and longing. How can I bear to leave Nathan?

She loved him. Maybe she couldn’t say it to him—outside of that one unguarded moment where it had accidentally tumbled from her lips—but Verity had to admit it to herself. She loved Nathan and wanted to be with him. Part of her wanted to throw caution to the winds and marry him as he’d asked. But that would be an entirely selfish thing to do; she would ruin Nathan’s life. It was one thing to put herself in danger, but it was quite another to lay waste to Nathan’s name, staining him with her crimes and even putting him in danger.

Verity didn’t regret what she had done in the past—she’d do the same thing today if it meant saving her sister from Stanhope—and she had accepted the consequences. But Nathan didn’t deserve that. She wasn’t going to ask him to sacrifice himself for her.

Which was exactly why she should not go with him to Lady Lockwood’s tonight. She shouldn’t have agreed, shouldn’t be thinking of what dress she would wear and how she would arrange her hair and whether she would try that new perfume she’d bought the other day.

She told herself that after tonight, she would be stronger. Firm. This evening, when they left Lady Lockwood’s, she would make him see that marriage was out of the question.

But surely it would be all right to let herself have this last evening with him. To spend a few hours near him, committing every expression, every gesture, every smile or laugh to memory, to be taken out and pored over when she was alone.

Having tossed away her widow’s veil, Verity chose that evening to wear a half mask as they went to Lady Lockwood’s, and she kept a careful lookout for anyone lurking around her house or following them, as she had earlier today. She didn’t think that Stanhope had tracked her down yet, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. Especially not when she was with Nathan and his family.

Nathan was charming, as he always was with women of every age and status, not pushing Verity to any familiarity, but not treating her with the awkward stiffness that he had shown earlier that day. He treated her, in short, like a casual acquaintance, a stranger, and Verity could not decide whether he had decided to accept her decision and distance himself from her or was setting out to woo her as if they had only met. Whichever it was, she found it a trifle unsettling...and perhaps that was his purpose. Nathan was being conniving, and for some reason, she found it as endearing as it was irritating.

Nathan’s mother and aunt were at the dinner, along with Sloane and Annabeth, and, of course, Marcus Rutherford, Sloane’s father and Lady Lockwood’s frequent companion these days. In her role as Mrs. Billingham, Verity had learned that their relationship was the subject of much speculation among family and friends, not to mention the entire ton. But no one had the courage to broach the subject with her ladyship.

Verity knew that Lady Lockwood was brimming with curiosity about the trip they had made to Scotland and what they had found there, but the presence of Nathan’s mother and aunt kept her silent on that score.

But partway through the third course, Marcus Rutherford asked, “How was your trip to Scotland, Nathan?”