She quickly pocketed the coins. “Ask the fortune-teller. She’d probably know where to find him.”
Yes, she probably would. As much as Harry didn’t want to see Selina again, he would have to.
He stood and stalked from the tavern. Outside in the court, he took in the animals and people—adults and children—along with the dirt and disrepair. Was this how Selina had grown up? The thought of her in a place like this tightened his chest. He’d always believed that criminals weren’t born as criminals. Circumstance played a large part in what people chose to do—what they had to do.
He wanted to know what had driven Selina to become who she was today. Because whether he liked it or not, he’d fallen in love with her, and it seemed he couldn’t just shut that emotion off.
Striding from the court, Harry made his way down Saffron Hill. Was she still in her house on Queen Anne Street or had she, like Madame Sybila, fled London? The latter seemed most likely, and he realized that by not arresting her, he’d given her the chance to do so. Perhaps because he’d hoped she would.
But now he’d changed his mind. He wasn’t quite finished with her yet.
Chapter 19
Selina and Beatrix had feigned illness to avoid the engagements they’d committed to since Selina had told Harry the truth. Until today. Tired of waiting to see what Harry might do, they’d gone to a Spitfire Society meeting, which had turned out to be beneficial. They’d made a new friend, Lady Satterfield, who would be a useful ally to Beatrix in her quest to impress her father.
If that could even happen. Selina was still worried that Harry would arrest her and Beatrix, though Beatrix continued to insist that he would have done so already if that was his intent.
The Spitfire Society meeting had also opened up another avenue of opportunity. The ladies had discussed charities they could support, and Selina had brought up the Magdalen Hospital. Lady Satterfield had been so interested that she’d suggested they take a tour. Selina didn’t have a farthing to give them, but perhaps she could help in other ways. For the first time, she thought of a different future. There was no brother to be reunited with, no sister to see secure—if Beatrix’s father welcomed and took care of her. She could do something that would maybe, hopefully, finally bring her peace.
Selina had gone to her room after returning home, as had Beatrix. A gentle knock on the door drew her from her reverie.
Standing from her small dressing table, Selina answered the summons. Mrs. Vining stood over the threshold, her mouth dipped in a rather extreme frown.
“Mr. Sheffield is here.”
Selina’s heart hammered as a tremor ran through her. With a nod, she moved past the housekeeper and went downstairs. She paused halfway down. Harry stood in the entry.
Though it had been only five days since she’d seen him, it felt like much, much longer. He held his hat so she had a clear view of his beautiful tawny eyes with their long lashes and dark auburn brows. He was impeccably dressed in his well-cut but entirely serviceable constable costume—dark gray coat, light gray waistcoat, and black breeches. He’d told her once that he dressed to blend in so his clothing was always either gray, black, or brown. Except for the times she’d seen him at his parents’ house. Then, he’d worn a brighter waistcoat.
She realized she was staring. Blinking, she swallowed as she finished descending the stairs.
“Good afternoon,” she said cautiously. “Do you want to come to the sitting room, or should I get my hat and gloves?”
“The sitting room,” he said tersely.
He waited for her to precede him. She went to the other side of the room so there could be as much distance between them as Harry could want. Turning to face him, she asked if he wanted to sit.
“I do not. I came here with a proposition. It’s come to my attention that you know and have worked closely with Luther Frost. I won’t arrest you or Miss Whitford if you tell me how I can find him.”
“I rather preferred your previous proposal,” she said without thinking, as if they could still flirt with one another.
His gaze locked with hers, provoking a longing she knew would never be satisfied. At length, he said, “Where can I find Luther Frost?”
Selina straightened, eager to provide what help she could. “He moves around a bit, but I visited him on Peter Street near Saffron Hill.”
“He hasn’t been there in some time.” Harry’s voice was cold. “Where else?”
“Somewhere in Cheapside, maybe?”
“We looked for him there too, and we have people watching over these places. He’s disappeared, and I need to speak with him.”
“Why, if you don’t plan to arrest me?”
“This has nothing to do with you. Unless you were somehow involved with the fire on Saffron Hill four years ago. Perhaps that’s yet another truth you kept from me.”
Of course. Selina felt foolish for not putting that together. “I had nothing to do with the fire. I wasn’t even in London. I haven’t been here since I was eleven.”
“But you knew I was looking for Frost, and you didn’t tell me you had a relationship with him.”
She could lie again and say she hadn’t realized it was the same Frost, but she couldn’t bring herself to say one more thing that wasn’t true. “How could I without divulging who I really was?”
“Of course. It always comes back to you and your lies. Are you lying still?” He took a step toward her. “I need to find Frost.”
“I’m not lying—I don’t know where he is.”
“It’s my understanding that he’s in love with you. You don’t love him in return?”
“No.” Her chest felt as if it were covered in bricks. “I love you.” The revelation didn’t make her feel any lighter.
Harry seemed frozen, his gaze glued to hers, his hands tensely gripping the brim of his hat.
Selina closed the distance between them. “I didn’t realize that until it was too late,” she said softly. “And I had to have help. I don’t know what love feels like.”
His jaw twitched. “I’ve tried to understand how you could be so deceptive. I don’t know what to believe. You’ve given me nothing to trust.” His tone was even, without a hint of emotion.
It would be easier if he were anguished or angry. Selina could deal with that. But this was terrifying. She’d caused him to feel…utterly bereft. “I’m not sure I trust myself. Ever since my employer…” She looked away from him. “I told you what he did. I was changed. I wasn’t me anymore. Not until I met you.”
The gentle touch of his fingertips beneath her chin drew her to face him once more. He abruptly dropped his hand, as if her flesh had burned him.
“I can’t imagine the life you’ve led,” he whispered. “Or maybe I can, and it’s too harrowing to contemplate.”
“The day we met, I pretended to fall. I did that so you wouldn’t go after the child who’d stolen something. I saw myself twenty years ago.”
“I wondered if that had been a lie too.”
Selina flinched. “Not everything between us was false. Everything I felt for you, and I hope what you felt for me, was all real.”