“I knew that man today.”
“You’ve said that a dozen times.” She lay back on the pillow and looked back up at the ceiling. “Not the man who shot at me. The other one. There was something familiar about him to you.”
Stephen nodded. “If I can just remember where I last saw him—”
“Seven Dials?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? He could have been leaning against the wall of a warehouse or selling something in the street.”
“No, that’s not it.” Though the suggestion did spark something.
“Well, whoever he was, we won’t find him tonight.” She yawned. “Can you order something for dinner? I’m starving.”
Stephen glanced at the bread and cheese plate she had all but devoured.
“I’ll send a man down for dinner.”
“Good. And tomorrow morning I want—”
“Stop giving me orders.”
“Fine, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if, by tomorrow evening, we were in possession of the treasure?”
Stephen watched her green eyes light up. Josie and the treasure. Truly, she was obsessed with it. He went to the door and ordered one of the grooms he’d stationed outside to fetch them stew and bread and closed the door again. Then he sat at the table and rubbed the bridge of his nose, willing his mind to conjure up the memory of the man who’d tried to kill Josie today.
“Are you still thinking about that man?” she asked, rising unsteadily to sit on the edge of the bed. “We wouldn’t have to speculate if we’d gone after him today. We’d have him here and could question him.”
Stephen scowled at her. “No, we’d be dead right now if we’d done that. You and I were in no position to chase after two armed men.”
“Well, I think—”
“Miss Hale, I know what I’m talking about. I worked with the army in India, and I trained specifically with the Punjabi trackers. I do know something of what I speak.”
“I heard you were in India,” she said, sitting straighter. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”
He laughed. “Why? It’s hot and rank and full of disease.”
“But it’s also full of—”
“Adventure. I should have guessed. I did not go for the adventure. My father sent me, and I went because I had no other choice.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Because if I hadn’t gone of my own free will, he threatened to have me kidnapped and transported.”
She gasped and put a hand to her mouth. It was an overdramatic gesture—the wine’s influence— but he still found her shock touching. He found anyone’s concern for him touching. He hadn’t experienced much tenderness in his life.
“Why would your father do that to you?” she asked, hand still resting on her lips. “Didn’t he worry that you’d be hurt or fall ill?”
“I think he would have preferred that. My father didn’t like me.” It was a harsh truth, and one he’d never before revealed. And he didn’t know why he told her now. Perhaps because he didn’t think she’d remember or maybe because she seemed to care. Or maybe it was time he told someone.
“My brother was always the favored one.” Stephen leaned back in his chair and propped his foot on the edge of the table. “He was the heir and the perfect son. I suppose I had too much of my grandfather in me. I was always getting into trouble.”
Josephine nodded. “I was too, but that didn’t mean my parents wanted to get rid of me. Well, not most the time.”
Josephine was watching him closely now, her expression serious. “You must have been very wicked to be sent so far away.”
Stephen felt the bile rise in his throat, but he forced himself to look her in the face. “I ruined a girl,” he said baldly, unwilling to soften the facts. “She was no older that you. Innocent. Naive. She thought she loved me. I bedded her and thought no more about it.”
Josie didn’t blink, but her hands were clenched in her lap.
