was there, yes, but merely out taking the—”
The letter opener went winging across the room to imbed itself in the dark oak paneling.
“Lie to your drunk of a mother. Lie to your uncle, to yourself. Lie to your God if you think you can get away with it—but don’t ever lie to me. Not ever again.”
“It…it was only so that I could thank him again for his rescue and to tell him goodbye,” Regina said, frightened enough to reveal the truth but not so frightened that she’d own up to all of it. “He wasn’t there.”
“And don’t tell me what I already know. Maybe the bastard’s got more brains than I give him credit for, or he’s heard about me. He may have come to your rescue last night, girlie, and for that I won’t be chasing him down to break his neck for him. Let nobody say that Reg Hackett is not a fair man. But now we’re even, him and me. Sees you again, and I’ll break every bone in his body and leave his neck bone for last. You understand me, girl?”
“Yes, Papa,” she said, nodding to confirm her words. She should leave the room now, delirious with her victory. But she had to ask her question. “You told me Miranda was abducted and ruined, perhaps even killed. Why did you tell Uncle Seth you’re sure she’s eloped to Gretna Green? Was that to spare him pain?”
Her father looked at her for a long moment before answering. “Yes. To spare him pain. I’m not the uncaring beast you sometimes believe I am, Regina. I’ve agreed to send you and your mother off with your Aunt Claire, haven’t I, and all to protect your cousin’s reputation?”
He’d just contradicted himself. He couldn’t believe Miranda to have been abducted and killed, or shipped off to some foreign port, and still say that he was agreeing to action meant to preserve her reputation until she could be overtaken on her way to Gretna Green.
Regina thought it best not to point that out to him.
Instead, she steeled herself and walked around the desk to put her arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Papa. And I’m so ashamed to have been momentarily intrigued by Mr. Blackthorn, perhaps mistaking gratitude at his timely rescue for something more. I’ll never lie to you again.”
And with that lie, she left the study and climbed the stairs to her bedchamber, where she opened the side window that looked out to the closed drapes of the building not ten feet away. She slid a white handkerchief beneath the sill so that it could be seen from the ground before lowering the window once more.
Now to go tell her mother yet another lie: that they, along with Miranda’s distraught mother, would be leaving for Mentmore Sunday morning at first light.
CHAPTER FIVE
P UCK DECIDED TO follow Dickie Carstairs. For one thing, he was the larger of the two men, and therefore easier to see—although that observation, mentioned to Gaston in passing, was mostly for his own amusement. The real reason for the decision was that the man’s intelligence seemed to be not half that of his friend, Baron Henry Sutton.
The Honorable Mr. Richard Carstairs began his Saturday evening with a bird and a bottle partaken with three friends at his club, one of the minor clubs located at the bottom of Bond Street.
From there he made a solitary progression to the theater, Covent Garden, actually, where Puck, who would otherwise not have set foot into the place, endured a second-rate farce and the offerings of three warblers, one of whom actually owned a tolerable talent for carrying a tune someplace other than in a strong wooden bucket.
It was during the second intermission that the baron appeared, seemingly nonchalantly making his way across the crowded refreshment area to, entirely by accident, encounter Mr. Carstairs.
They both evinced some surprise upon seeing theother, balanced their glasses awkwardly so that they might shake hands, and then drifted apart once more, Mr. Carstairs then promptly dropping the note the baron had
The letter opener went winging across the room to imbed itself in the dark oak paneling.
“Lie to your drunk of a mother. Lie to your uncle, to yourself. Lie to your God if you think you can get away with it—but don’t ever lie to me. Not ever again.”
“It…it was only so that I could thank him again for his rescue and to tell him goodbye,” Regina said, frightened enough to reveal the truth but not so frightened that she’d own up to all of it. “He wasn’t there.”
“And don’t tell me what I already know. Maybe the bastard’s got more brains than I give him credit for, or he’s heard about me. He may have come to your rescue last night, girlie, and for that I won’t be chasing him down to break his neck for him. Let nobody say that Reg Hackett is not a fair man. But now we’re even, him and me. Sees you again, and I’ll break every bone in his body and leave his neck bone for last. You understand me, girl?”
“Yes, Papa,” she said, nodding to confirm her words. She should leave the room now, delirious with her victory. But she had to ask her question. “You told me Miranda was abducted and ruined, perhaps even killed. Why did you tell Uncle Seth you’re sure she’s eloped to Gretna Green? Was that to spare him pain?”
Her father looked at her for a long moment before answering. “Yes. To spare him pain. I’m not the uncaring beast you sometimes believe I am, Regina. I’ve agreed to send you and your mother off with your Aunt Claire, haven’t I, and all to protect your cousin’s reputation?”
He’d just contradicted himself. He couldn’t believe Miranda to have been abducted and killed, or shipped off to some foreign port, and still say that he was agreeing to action meant to preserve her reputation until she could be overtaken on her way to Gretna Green.
Regina thought it best not to point that out to him.
Instead, she steeled herself and walked around the desk to put her arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Papa. And I’m so ashamed to have been momentarily intrigued by Mr. Blackthorn, perhaps mistaking gratitude at his timely rescue for something more. I’ll never lie to you again.”
And with that lie, she left the study and climbed the stairs to her bedchamber, where she opened the side window that looked out to the closed drapes of the building not ten feet away. She slid a white handkerchief beneath the sill so that it could be seen from the ground before lowering the window once more.
Now to go tell her mother yet another lie: that they, along with Miranda’s distraught mother, would be leaving for Mentmore Sunday morning at first light.
CHAPTER FIVE
P UCK DECIDED TO follow Dickie Carstairs. For one thing, he was the larger of the two men, and therefore easier to see—although that observation, mentioned to Gaston in passing, was mostly for his own amusement. The real reason for the decision was that the man’s intelligence seemed to be not half that of his friend, Baron Henry Sutton.
The Honorable Mr. Richard Carstairs began his Saturday evening with a bird and a bottle partaken with three friends at his club, one of the minor clubs located at the bottom of Bond Street.
From there he made a solitary progression to the theater, Covent Garden, actually, where Puck, who would otherwise not have set foot into the place, endured a second-rate farce and the offerings of three warblers, one of whom actually owned a tolerable talent for carrying a tune someplace other than in a strong wooden bucket.
It was during the second intermission that the baron appeared, seemingly nonchalantly making his way across the crowded refreshment area to, entirely by accident, encounter Mr. Carstairs.
They both evinced some surprise upon seeing theother, balanced their glasses awkwardly so that they might shake hands, and then drifted apart once more, Mr. Carstairs then promptly dropping the note the baron had
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