“By betraying me,” he confessed. “By becoming my wife, you’ll have more knowledge about my comings and goings, things Creed can use to ensure we never catch him.”
She frowned, wanting to shout and say he wasn’t a criminal, but the evidence lay behind her. The carriage was proof. Creed had lied and stolen and made her keep something that wasn’t hers. She didn’t even want to look at the carriage again and didn’t know how she’d face the princess next week without her guilt being written on her face.
A memory of her earlier visit with Creed flashed into her mind. “Creed is not all bad. He’s been working to find the men in charge of the stabbings. He believes finding them will fix his reputation.”
She’d caught him off guard. That was obvious by the way he jerked his head back.
“Creed told you this?” he asked.
“Yes, we’ve been trying for months to find a way to restore his reputation. He believes he’s close to finding the man. He told me his name.”
“What’s his name?” Morgan’s hold on her shoulders was tight.
Mena thought hard but then shook her head. “I can’t remember, but I recall his face.”
“You saw him?” he asked.
“No, but Creed had a man make his likeness. I believe he intends to hunt for him.”
“Could you recall the likeness enough for Nora to draw him?”
She nodded. “But I don’t think Creed needs your help. He’s gotten this far on his own. Let him do it.” Let him restore himself.
Morgan ran his hands down her arms and cupped her elbows, the sweet gesture spreading through her and touched her heart. Were they no longer at odds? Where did they stand? “Wouldn’t it be better for everyone to get this name before he had someone act again? Would you rather another victim like George?”
She closed her eyes at the mention of her driver. “No,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t.”
He dropped one of his hands and propelled her inside.
The women were in the sitting room and stopped speaking once Mena stepped past the threshold. They’d most likely been speaking about her.
Morgan said, “Nora, Mena might know the man who’s in charge of the stabbings and is willing to describe him to you.”
“I’ll have my driver return home to get my paints,” Nora told him and headed from the room. There seemed to be no time to wait for a maid to arrive after pulling the bell. Nora was acting swiftly, as though she knew what Morgan was after or even more what he truly was.
Morgan turned to Marianne and Maria. “Thank you for coming.”
The sisters moved forward, and Mena stiffened.
Marianne stopped before her, and her expression was sad. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. If you ever wish to speak about it, know I’m here.”
Mena was surprised and even more surprised when Maria touched her shoulder with a small smile before departing with Marianne. She watched them leave in wonder.
Morgan, as if in her mind, said, “They both saw the look of terror that came to your eyes when you saw the lion and unicorn on the carriage. You didn’t know it was there and truly believed Creed innocent. They also understand what it’s like to lose a father who loved them. When their father died, Wardington took them in.”
Mena recalled hearing some of that story but not all of it. Now knowing both women, she understood their kindness. “Does Marianne know you’re a spy?”
“Yes.”
“And Nora?”
He nodded.
She frowned. “Sopherina as well?”
He paused and said, “They all know.”
Something unsettling happened within her. She’d thought when Morgan had told her it had been their secret alone. Now she realized she was not the only woman who knew.
And what did it matter anyway? Most likely, she and Morgan would not be marrying now. Though Creed had done something terrible, she wasn’t ready to let him go, and Morgan had already confessed she couldn’t keep them both.
Dinner would not be enough to bring the men together.
Pain she’d not imagined possible took hold of her. She felt lost and abandoned and didn’t know what to do.
He cupped her cheek and lifted her head to meet his eyes.
She waited for him to speak, to say words that would reassure her that things would be all right between them.
Nora chose that moment to enter the room, and he let her go before taking a step back.
When Morgan did speak, his eyes were distant. “I want to thank you for doing this.”
“I’m doing it for George,” she decided to say. And then, because her pain was so great, she asked, “You do intend to hold to your promise, don’t you? You’ll end the engagement in a way that spares me ridicule?”
He pressed his lips together, nodded, and then bowed. “I will do everything I can.” Then, without meeting her eyes again, he turned and left.
* * *
27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
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We’ll go when we’re ready. …
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Morgan barely registered when the butler moved to take his coat and hat, neither did he recognize the bows and curtseys he received from the staff that happened to walk past him or even the one that came from the little maid who’d not recognized him on his last visit to his family’s London residence.
It was rare for him to seek out his mother. The first time he’d done so in the last four years had been after hurting Mena. He’d arrived to confront his mother on her choice of wife and wondered if perhaps the Marchioness of Durham had taken Creed as an ally, arranging the wedding to see to his end. But Wardington’s confession to having his own hand in the situation changed his mind on that.
Yet now he was here, to see his mother, and tell her that the bride she’d chosen for him would not do because even though Mena would likely always be the bride of his heart, he knew it was impossible to turn his back on his country. They would not suit, and so he’d have to let her go.
He’d have thought telling his mother of the change so soon a bad idea, but considering the fact that he’d been arranging to marry Mena as early as tomorrow, he had no choice.
He didn’t have to ask anyone where his mother was. He knew her habits and even though the staff had changed over time, his mother had not.
He found her in her office, one that was separate from the one his father had used. The room was painted a dark gray and held dark heavy furniture, which seemed to match its owner’s coldness. She sat behind a desk and lifted her eyes from the papers on it as he came in. He’d not knocked before entering, but she didn’t seem caught off guard by his appearance.
She stared at him and waited for him to speak. The look reminded him of when he’d been a child. Her lack of warmth or even speech made sure she was unwelcoming in every way to her children.
Irritated at her, he didn’t hesitate to agitate her a bit. “It’s a lovely day. I thought we might go for a walk in the park.”
She blinked, and he saw a flicker of some emotion not even his skilled mind could name right before she returned to her papers. “Why are you here?”