“I’m standing right here,” Anne said. “While I would have preferred that hadn’t happened the way it did, there’s nothing to be done now.” Not when Bowles was going to be there. Assuming he accepted the invitation. Oh, he had to! There was a Spitfire Society meeting tomorrow at the Spitfire house in Cavendish Square, which was now occupied by Mr. Bowles’s sister, Selina. Beatrix would likely be there too, and Anne could encourage them, along with their brother, to come to Ivy Grove.
If that came to pass, if Lord Bodyguard would be there, well, Anne would attend with glee.
Anthony gazed at her sincerely. “I apologize, Anne. I was only trying to help.”
“As was I,” Jane said.
“I know, and I appreciate you both so much. Please don’t argue on my account. I rely on your mutual affection—it reminds me there is happiness to be had.”
Anthony moved to Jane and slipped his arm around her waist. “Indeed there is, even when you think there isn’t. I would know.”
Yes, he would. After his parents were murdered last year, he never thought he’d be happy again or that he deserved to be. Jane had nursed him back to health, both emotionally and physically after he’d shown up on her doorstep battered almost beyond recognition. If he could find love, surely Anne would too.
Except, she was fairly certain finding it wouldn’t be her problem. Whether it would be reciprocated was a separate issue entirely.
Chapter 3
After being announced by his sister’s butler, Rafe walked into the garden room of her new residence in Cavendish Square. The addition of several chairs crowded the room. “Are you expecting an army?” Rafe asked.
Selina adjusted the position of a chair near the doors that led out to the garden. There was typically a table there, but it had apparently been moved out of the room. “Just the Spitfire Society. While our numbers are growing, we are nowhere near an army. Not everyone will be here today, anyway, including Beatrix.” She stopped abruptly and stared at him. “You’re here because of the invitation.” She didn’t have to specify which invitation.
“You received it earlier?”
She nodded. “A picnic at Ivy Grove tomorrow. How did you manage it? And so quickly?”
Rafe lifted a shoulder. “Someone owed me a favor.”
Selina’s brow puckered. Frowning, she moved around the chair. “No one disreputable, I hope. We’re supposed to have left that life behind.”
There was an earnestness and a hopefulness to her tone that nearly made Rafe smile. They’d both been through so much, together as children and then later after he sent her to school and they were apart for an unforgiveable nineteen years.
“Have I told you how glad I am you finally returned to London?” he asked.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Have I told you how angry I was that I thought you didn’t care?”
“Yes. And you don’t need to stop. I deserve every cross word you utter, even if I truly was trying to keep you safe.” He gave her a wry look. “You’ve more than demonstrated your ability to take care of yourself.”
“Yes, well, I learned from the very best.” She inclined her head. “Now, you didn’t reassure me as to this person who owed you a favor. Is this someone from your past life?”
“Yes—and no.” Rafe swiped the underside of his fingers along his jaw. “Lord Colton owed the Vicar a favor.”
Selina muttered a curse. “Were you mixed up in that extortion business with him and Thomas’s former brother-in-law?” She referred to their new brother-in-law’s—Rockbourne’s—deceased wife’s brother, Gilbert Chamberlain. The blackguard Anne nearly married.
“Not in the extortion, no. I would never involve myself in such a vile endeavor.” He exhaled. “But as the Vicar, I cultivated a relationship with Chamberlain a few years ago. He possessed a certain lack of morality that suited my needs as I sought to gain wealthier, better-positioned clients.”
“God, that sounds awful. And yet I understand why that was helpful to your cause.” She pressed her lips together.
“The cause to lift ourselves out of the gutter,” he said quietly.
They’d both done things they regretted, things that had been necessary to survive or to propel them to where they were now. Seeing Selina happy and in love, and, most of all, secure and safe, made everything worthwhile.
“Yes. I do understand. Completely.” Her gaze, tinged with a faint sadness, told him she did.
“Chamberlain was well placed in Society, particularly with gentlemen who needed financial assistance.”
“Which the Vicar—you—could provide in the form of high-interest loans.”
“That is how I made Lord Colton’s acquaintance. Later, at Colton’s request, I discovered Chamberlain was the one extorting him. In exchange for my help, Colton owed me a favor. I asked if he could arrange an introduction to Stone, preferably at Ivy Grove. He’d indicated it would be difficult, but clearly he had no trouble whatsoever.”
Selina’s lips curled into a half smile. “Clearly.”
“I had no idea it would happen this quickly, but it’s most fortuitous.” Rafe was beyond anxious to explore the folly and see if more memories rose to the surface.
“So Colton knows you were the Vicar. Isn’t that dangerous?”
“No more dangerous than your husband, a Bow Street Runner, knowing.”
“Harry won’t ever say anything, even if you two haven’t become friends. I do hope that will change,” she added.
Rafe doubted the possibility. Sheffield had spent years hunting the Vicar for a crime Rafe hadn’t actually committed. Once Sheffield had learned that—and caught the man who’d burned down a flash-house, killing several people inside—he’d let go of his need for vengeance. Still, they hadn’t formed a friendship despite the fact that they were now related by marriage.
“I wouldn’t worry about Colton. It wouldn’t benefit him to say anything. He wants to put his past behind him as much as I do.” The viscount wouldn’t want to remind people that he’d been buried in gambling debt and had borrowed money that he hadn’t initially been able to repay. Or that his failure had led to the murder of his parents.
Selina uncrossed her arms and dropped them to her sides. “How will you manage to speak to Lord Stone in the midst of a picnic?”
“I’m sure there will be an opportunity.” If not, he would make one.
“And what will you say? Will you ask if he recognizes you as a visitor to his estate nearly thirty years ago when you were a child?” Squinting one eye at him, she stepped closer, her gaze fixing on his right eye. “You do have the orange spot, and that has been there your entire life. I suppose it’s not impossible he may recognize that one defining mark.”
“I haven’t decided what to say. Perhaps you’ll be the one to say something. You’d prefer to be with me when I speak with him, yes?”
She inclined her head. “I would, thank you.”
“This is our shared past, Lina. You may not remember any of it, but they were your parents too.”