The Runner's Enticement (Men of Circumstance Book 2) (6 page)

At the moment though, the situation was out of his hands. The lady had a valid argument. He couldn’t prowl through a house full of the upper crust and salvage her reputation. He’d have to find a way to keep her protected from outside the party. It wasn’t his nature to stay away completely.

In no way would he let her know he agreed with her. Instead, he addressed the next best thing.

“Nate.”

“Pardon?” She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“I can count at least three times during this conversation when you’ve addressed me as Mr. Frederickson. As much as I appreciate your need to be all prim and proper, I have no desire to be called Mr. Frederickson endlessly. My name is Nate.”

As many possible outcomes as he’d expected regarding his request, her wide-eyed gawp had not been one of them. Surely she’d called a man by his given name before. It wasn’t as if his request was completely unheard of. Maybe unconventional, and surely a tad scandalous, but there were worse things he could have propositioned her with.

Her continued silence began to unnerve him.

“It isn’t as if I’m asking to refer to you as Annabel.” He savored the sound of her name on his lips without the typically attached
Lady
. Though unsure why, he felt they were on the same level without her title and status affixed to her name. “Would it be completely unreasonable for you to call me Nate when not in public?”

“Yes . . . no . . . well . . .”

He found her fumbling for an answer rather fitting. She’d had him floundering for his own footing since the moment they’d met. Mostly because he struggled between wanting to strangle her maddening rebelliousness, and thinking of what her lips would taste like. Thankfully the desire to throttle her remained victorious.

She visibly pulled herself together by straightening her shoulders and in doing so brought her refined persona out in full force.

“I will think on it.”

Nate suspected her answer was a politely given ‘no.’ At least she hadn’t attached another
Mr. Frederickson
to it.

Seeing as they stood outside the front door of the house, he decided now was not the time to change her mind.

Reluctantly conceding to her request that he avoid her evening engagement, Nate had to force acquiescence through his teeth. “In honor of your reputation, I will not enter your fancy soiree.”

Perhaps it would be too late before she realized he hadn’t agreed to stay away
entirely
. Even if he followed on horseback and hid in the shadows, he would be attending.

Chapter 10

From her position against the wall, Anna observed endless couples twirling through dance after dance. Once again, no one had requested her as a partner, and she didn’t care. She had other things occupying her mind. Mostly her victory of finally being away from Mr. Frederickson.

Nate.
She whispered his name in her head, liking how those four letters had a way of fitting him. As with the man, it sounded direct yet held some hidden appeal that, however much she wanted to, she couldn’t resist.

Even though she might not be ready to vocalize his name, nothing stopped her from silently enjoying the simple intimacy.

She shook her head despairingly. Now she merely waxed fanciful, and as a rule she was never fanciful. In fact, she rather despised the word. There was too much at stake to lose herself in whimsical notions.

Although she hated to admit it, something had shifted between her and Nate after their conversation. Most noticeably, she no longer had a strong desire for him to walk off a cliff.

Anna stared with unfocused eyes at the whirl of colors passing before her. She usually found the Witterson annual ball enjoyable. Since most of the guests were more friends and neighbors than simply society equals, they had a shared commonality. Yet apparently not enough to find her a dance partner. She was starting to wonder if people thought
she
abhorred dancing.

Nevertheless, she often found adequate conversation to occupy her. But tonight, no matter how much she wished otherwise, her thoughts inexplicably strayed to Mr. Frederickson.

Nate.

Which was rather unfortunate since she hadn’t been
completely
honest. Everything she’d said to keep him from the Witterson’s had been true. Her deceit lay with omitting her
main
motive.
I have graduated from thief to liar
.

An evolution she found disquieting. Her only excuse, the idea that a desperate woman might contemplate what she never thought possible.

Most alarming of all, she hadn’t even batted an eye in her deception.

Instead of being proud of her feat, it felt as if she’d swallowed a stone and it—along with all the heaviness from
borrowing
from her father—weighed deep on her soul. If not careful, she’d find herself buried beneath the burden.

Though her exasperating bodyguard—
Nate
—had left her no choice. If she didn’t pay Mr. Rollins with her latest acquisition, he’d shut down the school . . . and expose all her sins along with it. He’d threatened it enough for her to know it was no bluff.

The ball had given her an opportunity she couldn’t ignore. Thankfully she’d had time to get a summons to Mr. Rollins to meet her in the Witterson’s garden during the supper dance.

Her fingers tightened on her reticule. One more dance and she’d be free of the wretched artifact. At least physically. She was beginning to understand she’d never be free of her deceit. Even originating from the noblest of intentions.

As the final bars of the music concluded and couples begun to pair for the supper dance, she slowly made her way to the doorway leading to a small terrace and garden. To keep from being missed, she would need to make her business with Mr. Rollins as brief as possible. She already risked more than she cared to think about.

With the guests preparing to converge on the food, the terrace was blessedly empty and the darkened sky enabled her to reach the garden unnoticed. Unfortunately, the darkness also kept her from hurrying in fear she’d become entangled in a bush. The last thing she needed was to return to the party with twigs in her hair or a tear in her dress.

Anna approached the side garden door unhindered. But as Mr. Rollins, dressed in all black, slipped into the moonlight, hesitation crept down her back. The man she once thought her savior in her fight to keep the school open had become her jailer. She should have known not to trust the benevolence of someone who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere with his offer to fund the school with a loan. Desperation to see its preservation as a memorial to her mother—and to keep control from the board—was her only explanation for making a deal with a man clearly in league with the devil.

“Lady Annabel, such a lovely evening,” Mr. Rollins’ slimy voice greeted her.

As usual, she struggled to match the man’s handsome features with the vileness she suspected existed behind his allure. Most likely not yet thirty, he had charm and grace in plenty. Her distrust didn’t sit with his outward attributes. His increasing demands that she owed beyond the initially agreed upon amount due to unforeseen—and entirely fabricated—expenditures had stopped ringing true weeks earlier.

“Mr. Rollins, thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice.” As much as she might detest the man, he alone stood between her and ruin. “I have your latest payment.”

Though they appeared alone, Anna couldn’t chance the possibility a guest or two might utilize the darkened garden for their own purpose. To keep their dealings private, she stepped as close to Mr. Rollins as her body would allow without feeling sickened.

From her reticule she pulled the latest evidence of how far she’d fallen, and reluctantly placed it into Mr. Rollins’ outstretched hand. Once it slipped into his pocket and out of her sight, she feared she’d never have the power to restore it back to her father. Guilt clawed its way past her misgivings and caused tears to prick the back of her eyes.

She was slowly losing faith in her ability to win back the school
and
to repay her father.

Mr. Rollins turned his attention to her. “This should be sufficient to cover your back payments but there is still the matter of what is currently due.”

Her heart fell to her feet. “We agreed tonight’s payment would bring the debt to good standing until next quarter’s payment.”

“That was before it took a fortnight to complete this deposit. Any amount that would have been applied to the current principal will be used to cover the additional interest.”

She bit her tongue to keep from arguing with the despicable cad. She knew—and she was quite positive he also knew—there was no delay. Due to the nature of her payments, something he’d willingly accepted, the agreed upon terms of reimbursement allowed additional time for her to procure the items.

A fact he was well aware of. Especially considering he’d been the one to
suggest
the use of her father’s collection when incoming money from the school had dwindled.

She bit back her retort, in no position to argue. Given his glare of triumph, he enjoyed her powerless predicament.

He slid closer. Refusing to show further weakness, she stood firm. “One more fortnight, Lady Annabel. If you don’t have payment, I’ll have no option but to call the note and take the school.”

With nothing to say, she turned for the sanctuary of the house. Halting her escape, his fingers latched onto her arm, bruising the skin beneath his grasp.

“Do I need to remind you what would happen if your father learned he is housing a thief?”

She yanked her arm free and fled, ignoring his threat. No acknowledgement was needed. They were both aware she’d lost control of the situation the moment she’d made a deal with the devil dressed as a gentleman.

What the hell is she doing now?

Even from his position some distance away and the disadvantage of the darkness, Nate surmised Lady Annabel’s garden encounter was no lovers’ tryst. And not because he suspected her incapable of something as adventurous as a secret paramour.

Everything about the situation had his instincts on high alert. Her body language spoke volumes. It was obvious she and her nighttime visitor weren’t on friendly terms. Had the encounter been deliberate or had she simply happened upon the man? The stranger hadn’t been invited to the party. At least not by official invitation.

Nate had spied him slipping into the garden from an outside entrance a short time before Lady Annabel’s appearance, whereas an invited guest would have accessed the garden from the ballroom.

When Lady Annabel had first ventured beyond the balcony to the garden, Nate had fought the urge to rush from his cover of foliage to explain quite fiercely what dangers awaited a young woman under the cover of night. Even a woman who had a unique way of hiding her charms behind a very convincing disguise of a nondescript bluestocking.

Curious as to what her purpose might be, Nate remained still. With her in his sights, he’d be able to interfere before something untoward occurred.

Words weren’t needed to know whatever the two had been discussing, planned or not, Lady Annabel was not pleased with the results. From his vantage point, Nate watched her hurry back to the party while he kept an eye on the mysterious man. If he wanted to discover her secrets, the visitor held the answers.

Nate’s hackles rose as the man continued to peer after Lady Annabel, even after she’d disappeared from sight. Just like the night’s shadows chased away the light of the day, the further she’d moved away, the more the stranger’s gentlemanly mask ebbed. Until all that remained was something Nate always discovered resided below the surface of his most dangerous targets . . . pure evil.

The man paused a moment, patted the pocket of his jacket, then turned for the garden exit, disappearing from Nate’s sight.

Giving chase, Nate darted after. He burst through the wooden door, only to find a cloud of dust kicked up from the man’s fleeing horse. With it, the answers he craved.
Damn.

All he had to show for his sneaking about were more questions. Had Lady Annabel planned the encounter? If so, why secretly meet with a man who was clearly
no
gentleman?

What else was the pretty miss hiding?

As the night swallowed man and horse, Nate’s focus shifted from the stranger to hunting down the truth from one maddening female.

Chapter 11

The day after Nate discovered Lady Annabel might be more interesting than the straight-laced bluestocking he’d taken her for, he found himself back at her beloved school.

And back in the corner of her office like a wayward schoolboy.

Only today he wasn’t sending murderous scowls in her direction, forced to watch her tending to tedious school activities. No, today he was busy trying to dissect the lady as she shuffled from one chore to the next.

Visually she was the same annoying miss who’d been tying him in knots since Lawson had forced the assignment on him. Her yellow dress seemed as demure and serviceable as the light blue gown she’d wore the day before. No unnecessary bit of skin was allowed to make an appearance.

Yet something was different. From their first meeting he’d unwisely desired her. Even while he’d fought the impulse to strangle her.

What pulsed through him today was more than basic craving. He was intrigued. The bluestocking wallflower had managed to engage every instinct he’d honed for the last five years.

For the first time in a long while, he felt a renewed purpose for his job. A twinge of something more than simply going through the motions. Getting one assignment done to move on to the next.

Lady Annabel dismissed the student she’d been meeting with for the last thirty minutes, only to sit back at her desk and shift through more papers. As much as he wanted to dismiss her as a typical highborn lady, he had to give her credit for her devotion to the school and students. He might not be familiar with
every
lady of stature, but he was acquainted with enough to know very few would be content with the trivial tasks Lady Annabel dealt with on a daily basis.

“Does your job require you to do anything other than to sit and watch, Mr. Frederickson?” she quietly inquired, keeping her focus on the papers before her.

“Ahh, but with such an enticing subject matter, who wouldn’t choose to merely observe? And it is Nate.” He couldn’t have stopped the sweet retort if he’d wanted to. His forwardness was rewarded when the faint blush rose in her cheeks.

A few minutes passed while she must have debated if she would satisfy him with a reply. To his delight her inner pluckiness won out.

“I’m hardly a simpleton. False flattery means nothing to me . . . Nate.”

As much as she might have intended his name as a taunt, the four letters slipped past her lips with such delicate utterance, he almost lost his footing in their verbal skirmish.

“What makes you believe it is false?”

She abandoned her work and glanced at him. The touch of flame hidden in her hair contrasted with the calm of her gaze. “As you’ve been disinclined to be anything beyond civil to me since your arrival, I’d be a fool to succumb to it now.”

Her assessment was mark on, so he didn’t attempt to mount a defense. Better to change the subject.

“You seem remarkably sane after dealing with the petty troubles of so many young ladies.”

“I’m going to ignore the implication that because they are young ladies, their troubles are petty.” She attempted to cover the hint of a smile. “Especially since I would be lying if I didn’t agree. More times than not their problems are, at the most, trivial. In their defense, at their age everything is the end of the world. There have been plenty of times when I’ve wanted to send them from my office to fend for themselves.”

When she spoke of her students, even in terms of their bickering, she became animated in a way he’d never seen from a lady of consequence. Which enhanced her subtle loveliness no one else seemed to notice.

“Why continue to do it?”

Her hands paused over the papers and with complete certainty she answered, “Because it is what my mother would have done if she were here.”

With one sentence, Nate suddenly understood more about Lady Annabel than he’d learned in the last several days.

“My mother never had the opportunity to make the school into what she might have wanted. Yet there is no doubt in my mind she would have done everything possible to give these young ladies an education that would take them further than classes in etiquette and deportment. As well as personally help them through whatever problems arose, trifling or not.”

“It must have been hard to lose her.”

She returned to righting the papers on her desk. Feeling foolish atop his stool in the corner, he abandoned it for an equally uncomfortable chair before her desk. He suspected the less-than-inviting seating served as further chastisement for disobedient students who had the misfortune of needing Lady Annabel’s direction. Her tactic had to be admired. What better way to keep the young girls on edge than an unforgiving chair?

Maybe Lawson should look at hiring Lady Annabel. The agency could always use more agents specializing in interrogations.

Past the point of trying to find an agreeable angle to place his body, he turned his attention to Lady Annabel, still organizing her desk, which wasn’t cluttered to begin with.

“I miss her every day,” she abruptly whispered.

Trained to get information from people, he knew when to keep silent. Instead, he focused on the darkness of her lashes shuttering her eyes as her head remained lowered.

“Papa has done the best he knows, and I love him all the more for it, but I feel like something is missing. Only when I’m at the school do I feel close to her.”

She settled the last of the papers and rather than start a new task, she met his steady gaze. “She never had the opportunity to run the school but the faint memories I have of her include bringing me along as she assisted with instructing classes. Being a child of seven when she died, I can’t bring to mind how she smelled, the sound of her voice, and without paintings, I’d never recall her face. But I remember our trips to the school and as absurd as it sounds, I feel her presence when I’m here.”

Immersed in her story, the torment of the hard wood beneath his buttocks slid away. Though she remained a typical society miss, she clearly felt more than most put on. Having lost his own mother, albeit later in life, every one of her words hit him square in the chest. Nate feared one day he’d forget the sweet melody of his mother’s voice. The woman who’d sacrificed everything for him. All taken away because his father had found her pleasing in bed but too far beneath him to acknowledge.

Old hate swirled from him and mixed with Lady Annabel’s melancholy, seeming to form a connection between them.

Unable to handle the strength of the silence, he found his voice. “Wanting to keep her memory alive, however you need to, is not absurd. We do what we must. Believe me, I know.”

Her turquoise eyes locked onto his and the pull was so alarming, he had no choice but to look away.

“When did you lose her?” she asked quietly.

“My tale is not nearly as heartbreaking. I was well past the point of being a child when my mother contracted consumption. She’d lived a hard life at the hands of my father and I think, in the end, she’d embraced death as much as it had crushed her to think of leaving me, a grown man, to fend for himself.”

“I don’t think it is ever easy for a parent to say goodbye to their children.” Sadness encircled her words and brought his focus back to her.

“Leaving you at such a young age must have been difficult for your mother. Had she been ill?”

“Nothing quite as predictable as an illness. She died during childbirth. It was later in her life and it took time for my father to recover from the sense of responsibility. I’m not sure if it wasn’t a blessing the baby died as well. It may be selfish but I don’t know if I would have had the capacity to love the sibling who I’d no doubt believed took my mother from me.”

He didn’t know why she’d decided to share so openly with him. None of his actions over the last two days had encouraged it. Nate was pleased nevertheless. Despite them being worlds apart, and her still a spoiled princess, it broke through his shell knowing they’d experienced similar grief.

“If the affection you show the students is any indication, you would have loved the child enough for you
and
your mother.”

He didn’t know where the sentiment had come from but she seemed as if she needed to hear it. Their acquaintance wasn’t deep enough to be considered a friendship.

The only acknowledgement she gave that his words meant something was a slight nod of her head before she turned away once again.

He didn’t need her words. Or her confirmation. Her eyes had said it for her. Before she’d lowered her gaze and deprived him of those fathomless depths, he’d seen the sheen of tears mixed with a subtle acceptance.

“I need to speak with Evie, then we should return home. I’m still worried about my father.”

As simple as that, she severed the moment. If Nate was a different man, he’d mourn the loss of their brief connection. It was for the best though. After last night and her escapade in the garden, he needed to keep a clear head. There had to be something she was hiding.

He’d be damned if he’d allow a mere miss to best him.