“Evil is not solved by evil,” Daniel said. “It only expands the problem. And then it never ends.”
“Very cheering.” I reached to him and squeezed his hand. “Let us speak no more of it. Except for me to admit that at first I thought it quite likely Jonathan Morris was the culprit. Or Jepson. But I’ve come to see she is devoted to Lady Covington, fanatically so.”
“Young Morris likes to play the ne’er-do-well.” Daniel captured my fingers and twined his through them. “When I saw Thanos yesterday, he told me a story he remembered about Jonathan. A chap Thanos knew at school had gotten into debt with a bad man. Owed the bloke several thousand pounds, and the man was going to send a thug to beat it out of him. Jonathan, a friend of the chap, intervened and paid the debt to spare his friend getting beaten. Jonathan was skint for months afterward. Lady Covington, who thought he’d lost the money on horses, curtailed his allowance for a time, until he won her over again.” Daniel paused. “It takes a generous heart for a man to help a friend like that.”
I leaned back, enjoying the sunlight washing us, the warmth of Daniel’s hand in mine. “Lady Covington said from the beginning that Jonathan would never harm anyone. I am glad for her that she is right.”
“It also takes a generous heart for a woman to give up her precious little time to help a lady in distress. To see it through until the end. And to put on a gown and pretend to be a man’s fiancée so he can catch a criminal.” Daniel ran a thumb over my gloved hand, which started a tingle of fire low in my abdomen.
I spoke quickly to cover my sudden fluster. “I would say I was happy to help you, but I was not. I was frightened every minute I’d be found out. I do not know how you retain your equilibrium in your disguises, my friend. In the end, I could be no one but myself. My true self, the one I’d forgotten existed.” I gave a little laugh.
Daniel was suddenly closer to me. “I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He glanced at my shoulder where the knife had cut it. “How are you?”
“I told you, it was only a scratch.” It had hurt badly, and now it itched, but I was not one to give in to physical discomfort. “Bobby cleaned it up nicely. She ought to be a doctor. Or a medic’s assistant, or something of the sort.”
“Mmm. I believe her family, who can put up with her dressing as a man and smoking cigars, would faint with horror if she took up work.”
“A waste, if that is true,” I said. “A woman can work as hard as any man. Why shouldn’t we?”
“Because you are made to be beautiful and to inspire us to goodness.” Daniel turned his wide smile on me to show me he was joking.
I remembered, however, how he’d gazed at me when I’d appeared in the lovely gowns, as though he’d wanted me to stand still so he could admire me all day. I’d been far too pleased he thought I looked well, but the gowns and high-heeled shoes had been a bit impractical.
“Absolute nonsense,” I said, but I softened my tone. “There are plenty of comely young ladies in the world, but I don’t notice all the gentlemen rushing into goodness.”
Daniel chuckled. “Ah, my cynical Kat.”
“Your sensible Kat. I look at the world as it is.”
“You do.” His laughter faded, and his eyes grew still. “I am pleased you said your.”
“Did I?” My heart made a small flutter. “I was practicing good rhetoric. A trick of speech.”
“Is that all it was?” The amusement had left Daniel’s voice, as had the flirtatiousness.
I wound my fingers more tightly through his. “No.”
“I am very glad to hear it, Kat.”
I decided to say no more. We sat, two upright people watching a young girl study the scenery, but Daniel’s arm touched the length of mine and his warmth covered me more than that.
I could have sat thus all day. No awkwardness between us, just acknowledgment and acceptance. I was Kat and he was Daniel, as it should be.
Grace turned and waved to us, her smile wide. She was my world, and with Daniel beside me, it was complete.
Photo by Silvio Portrait Design
Jennifer Ashley is the New York Times bestselling author of more than one hundred novels and novellas in mystery, romance, and historical fiction. Jennifer’s books have been translated into more than a dozen languages and have earned starred reviews in Publishers Weekly and Booklist. When she isn’t writing, Jennifer enjoys playing music (guitar, piano, flute), reading, hiking, gardening, and building dollhouse miniatures.
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