“It’s a risk, but I won’t know until I see the hiding place myself. Before I go, I’ll read all the journals again to make sure there aren’t any more clues.”
Josie glanced up sharply and almost rapped Westman on the chin. “Before you go? Before we leave, you mean.”
“Miss Hale, please be reasonable. You cannot ride off to Cornwall with me.”
Josie took in a sharp breath. Oh, no. No, no, no. The man would not do this to her now. Not when she had just begun to trust him. She stood, taking the map with her. “Oh, yes, I can, and I will.”
“But your parents—” He seemed to flounder for a moment, and then his eyes lit. “Your mother. What would she say?”
“Oh, she’ll murder me,” Josie said, “but the important thing is that she does so after I have the treasure. Why do you think I’ve insisted on behaving so well this past fortnight? I don’t want to be locked in my room before I have a chance to escape and find the treasure.”
He blinked at her. “Miss Hale, I hate to be the one to say it, but you probably should be locked in your room. You cannot travel with me to find the treasure. Your reputation—”
“Doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is the treasure.” She’d be an independent woman, and then she’d have the freedom to vindicate her grandfather. “Once I have the treasure, nothing can touch me.” Not her mother, not Society, not arrogant, overbearing men like Westman. Why had she ever thought he was any different? When was she going to learn?
Westman bent over and lifted the haversack. He began piling the jewels and instruments back inside.
“What are you doing?” Josie asked.
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” He lifted the journal and placed it in the sack. “Perhaps you’ll be more reasonable then.”
“Westman—Stephen,” she said, grabbing his arm before he could take the map. “I told you from the start that I won’t be left behind. Not during the search for the map and not now when we have it. You agreed to my terms. Now you must fulfill them.”
His eyes blazed cold blue fire. “You don’t understand what you’re saying, and I’m not going to help you ruin yourself.” He gave her a contemptuous look. “I’m sure you can accomplish that on your own.”
“And if I do ruin myself, what’s it to you?”
He went back to filling the sack.
“Oh, why did I ever trust you? In the bank today you said we were partners. ‘Together until the end.’ Was that another of the famous Doubleday lies?”
“No, I only meant that you have to trust me.” He put the map in the haversack and slung it over his shoulder, then reached for his coat, shaking the dust off.
“I did trust you,” she spat with eighteen years of venom. “I trusted you, and look what’s happened.”
“Miss Hale—”
“Leave me alone. I knew this would happen. You men think you’re the only ones entitled to have adventures. I won’t give this up so easily.” She turned to the kitchen door, reached for the doorknob.
His hand shot out before she could scoot away. He yanked her back, so that her shoulder was jammed into his chest. “Stop talking nonsense. This isn’t about your misguided, overblown sense of adventure, Josephine,” he hissed, anger making his body tense and his grip cutting. “This isn’t about fun. This is about your life. You’re going to destroy it, and I’m not going to be the one who helps you. Not this time.”
She glanced down at his hand. “Don’t touch me.”
He released her as though she were some vile insect.
“Don’t ever touch me.” She reached for the doorknob and stepped back into the kitchen. Head held high, she reentered the ball.
Inside, nothing had changed. Inside, everyone laughed and drank and danced. But Josie’s heart was heavy and cold.
Vile man. She should have known he was as much a liar and a deceiver as the rest of his vile family. The more fool her. She’d trusted Westman. He’d tricked her into believing he might be different.
No, that wasn’t even true. She knew he was no different than every other man, but she had wanted him to be. If she should be angry at anyone, it was herself. But how could she help it? She’d watched Catie fall in love, and she wanted some part of that—lust, desire—for herself.
When was she going to realize that the perfect man for her was nothing more than a shadow in the fog?
STEPHEN STOOD IN THE empty alley and tried to shrug on his tailcoat. It was bloody near impossible without his valet. He shoved an arm through the sleeve and cursed again.
Why the hell was he so angry anyway? Why the hell did he care if he’d disappointed Josephine Hale? She was ridiculous. She needed to be disappointed.
