Read Online Thief of Hearts by Patricia Gaffney - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Gaffney
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sentiments from the men of her acquaintance, her father, her cousin Stephen, even dear Nicholas, that it never occurred to her to take offense. She was still grappling with the enormity of the idea that Brodie was meant to decoy Nicholas's killer back out into the open. "What if he's killed?"
"What's that?"
She'd spoken so softly, he hadn't heard. "Nothing." She set the thought aside. It was too unwieldy.
"Listen to me, Anna. If you really can't go through with it, we'll end this business with Brodie tonight and you can start for home tomorrow. None of this was my idea, I promise you. Dietz will just have to think of something else."
She stared up at the black sky, remembering what Mr. Dietz's alternatives were to shut Jourdaine Shipbuilding down and send Mr. Brodie to his death. "And if I agree to it, what will happen when it's over?"
"When it's over, when Brodie's usefulness is at an end, we'll simply kill him off. You'll say that he, that Nicholas, died of a fever or in an accident, and you buried him in Italy. Brodie will go back to prison, and you'll resume your life in England as the widow you are. And no one will ever know the truth."
Anna shivered again, gripped by a cold, inscrutable emotion.
"I've spent the last two weeks with him, don't forget," Aiden continued gently. "I understand your reluctance to have anything to do with him, but honestly, he's not quite as bad as you think. I'm confident you're in no physical danger from him." Anna colored and looked away, remembering. "And I don't think he's a violent man."
"Not violent! But he murdered that woman, he—"
"He denies it."
She gaped, then shook her head in wonder. "I think you believe him. Aiden, I think you like him!"
"I don't like him! If it were up to me, he'd be dead and Nick would be alive!" He moved away from her to hide his emotion.
She followed, and touched his arm softly. Sometimes she forgot she Wasn't the only one grieving for Nicholas. She thought of all she had lost, and of what it would be like if she went back to England now. The curious thought struck that she was less lonely here than at home. That was something else she would have to think about. In a little while. "Very well, Aiden, I will try. I'll try to get through the next few days with that man. But stay with me, will you? Mr. Flowers doesn't inspire a great deal of confidence as a bodyguard, does he?"
He turned back, smiling, and took her hands. "Everything will be all right, Anna, I promise." They started to walk back toward the inn. "But… "
"What?"
"Tomorrow I think we should all begin riding together. There's plenty of room in our carriage for four, and it's time Mr. Brodie got started with his lessons. After all, he's got a lot to learn about what was it? Transverse bulkhead frames?"
She returned a wan smile for his benefit. "Oh, very well," she said on a tired sigh, resigning herself to it.
"Good girl. I admire you a great deal, you know. I think you're a very brave young lady."
"I'm not brave at all," she scoffed, putting her arm through his. "I think I must be mad."
Chapter 7
"Wot're all these cross buggers niled t' the trees?" wondered Billy, pointing out the window as the heavy, lumbering
carosse de diligence
bumped and rattled over the rutted road. They'd crossed the Maritime Alps into Italy that morning; now they were moving through a dim and lonely wood, where it seemed the lowering trees were squeezing the carriage in a dark, gloomy vice. Their progress was slow, monotonous; the unending tedium had everyone on edge, even Billy.
When no one else answered his question, Brodie drawled matter-of-factly, "They mark the places where travelers like us got robbed and murdered by highwaymen." Three heads swiveled toward him, then quickly looked away. Anna made a soft, scornful noise and went back to staring out the window. "It's true," he insisted. "It says so right here in this book you gave me."
She nodded grimly, ruing that impulsive gesture. All day
"What's that?"
She'd spoken so softly, he hadn't heard. "Nothing." She set the thought aside. It was too unwieldy.
"Listen to me, Anna. If you really can't go through with it, we'll end this business with Brodie tonight and you can start for home tomorrow. None of this was my idea, I promise you. Dietz will just have to think of something else."
She stared up at the black sky, remembering what Mr. Dietz's alternatives were to shut Jourdaine Shipbuilding down and send Mr. Brodie to his death. "And if I agree to it, what will happen when it's over?"
"When it's over, when Brodie's usefulness is at an end, we'll simply kill him off. You'll say that he, that Nicholas, died of a fever or in an accident, and you buried him in Italy. Brodie will go back to prison, and you'll resume your life in England as the widow you are. And no one will ever know the truth."
Anna shivered again, gripped by a cold, inscrutable emotion.
"I've spent the last two weeks with him, don't forget," Aiden continued gently. "I understand your reluctance to have anything to do with him, but honestly, he's not quite as bad as you think. I'm confident you're in no physical danger from him." Anna colored and looked away, remembering. "And I don't think he's a violent man."
"Not violent! But he murdered that woman, he—"
"He denies it."
She gaped, then shook her head in wonder. "I think you believe him. Aiden, I think you like him!"
"I don't like him! If it were up to me, he'd be dead and Nick would be alive!" He moved away from her to hide his emotion.
She followed, and touched his arm softly. Sometimes she forgot she Wasn't the only one grieving for Nicholas. She thought of all she had lost, and of what it would be like if she went back to England now. The curious thought struck that she was less lonely here than at home. That was something else she would have to think about. In a little while. "Very well, Aiden, I will try. I'll try to get through the next few days with that man. But stay with me, will you? Mr. Flowers doesn't inspire a great deal of confidence as a bodyguard, does he?"
He turned back, smiling, and took her hands. "Everything will be all right, Anna, I promise." They started to walk back toward the inn. "But… "
"What?"
"Tomorrow I think we should all begin riding together. There's plenty of room in our carriage for four, and it's time Mr. Brodie got started with his lessons. After all, he's got a lot to learn about what was it? Transverse bulkhead frames?"
She returned a wan smile for his benefit. "Oh, very well," she said on a tired sigh, resigning herself to it.
"Good girl. I admire you a great deal, you know. I think you're a very brave young lady."
"I'm not brave at all," she scoffed, putting her arm through his. "I think I must be mad."
Chapter 7
"Wot're all these cross buggers niled t' the trees?" wondered Billy, pointing out the window as the heavy, lumbering
carosse de diligence
bumped and rattled over the rutted road. They'd crossed the Maritime Alps into Italy that morning; now they were moving through a dim and lonely wood, where it seemed the lowering trees were squeezing the carriage in a dark, gloomy vice. Their progress was slow, monotonous; the unending tedium had everyone on edge, even Billy.
When no one else answered his question, Brodie drawled matter-of-factly, "They mark the places where travelers like us got robbed and murdered by highwaymen." Three heads swiveled toward him, then quickly looked away. Anna made a soft, scornful noise and went back to staring out the window. "It's true," he insisted. "It says so right here in this book you gave me."
She nodded grimly, ruing that impulsive gesture. All day
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