.
Philomena followed with the same speed as the other women, but her heart seemed to drag behind her, the pulse coming loud in her ears. Dread was slowly moving into her limbs. It disgusted her, the lack of faith in Creed that these women could instill. She held her head high as they stepped outside and rounded the corner.
She was aware that others had followed them from the house and knew those others were Ralph and Morgan.
They arrived at the carriage and Mena took it in as she’d never done before. To her eyes, it was indeed a lovely carriage, styled in a way that spoke of wealth and much more than the average man, and she knew her father had made plenty of money from the hotel. She’d always known it was a fine carriage, yet now that she stared at her transport, she almost allowed herself to think it seemed royal. Its large smooth curves and wide windows, the golden trim that made the painted black seem that much more alive. It gleamed.
Creed had told her he’d purchased it for her.
She believed him.
She walked around the carriage and said, “It’s just a carriage. How could you know it belonged to Princess Victoria?”
She returned to the other side where the group waited just as her footman Harry arrived with a small bottle and cloth.
Maria pointed to the door of the carriage. “Start there.”
Harry looked at Mena, asking her permission.
Mena moved closer and asked, “What are you doing?”
“We’re removing the paint,” Maria told her. “But don’t worry. If we’re wrong, my husband will be more than glad to have it painted again.”
Mena’s heart was still racing and was climbing in her throat. She felt lightheaded from the pressure but managed to stay on her toes. “And what do you hope to accomplish by removing the paint?”
“She hopes to find the royal seal,” Morgan said. The gentleness in his voice almost tore her apart. There was concern in his tone, as though he knew the life she’d known was about to be ruined.
Mena scoffed, though she’d suspected the answer he’d given. There was only one reason to do so. The door would hold the royal seal if it was indeed Princess Victoria’s.
She caught herself retreating and moved back to her position.
Morgan moved, coming to her. He reached out for her and she moved away, but he was persistent and placed a hand on her elbow, his back positioned slightly behind her to give her support.
She wanted to tell him his touch wasn’t necessary, that within seconds, they all would be proven wrong. But instead, she nodded her head.
Harry opened the bottle, which released a disturbingly sweet smell, and placed it on the white cloth he’d brought with him before sweeping his hand in small circles over the place a family seal would lay.
Mena held her breath and waited as black began to appear on the cloth, but nothing else. The royal coat of arms didn’t show. There was no vibrant yellow for the lion and his crown or white for the silver unicorn, both creatures positioned by a shield, a symbol that had been around since the time of Queen Mary, a symbol that could only be used for the Queen herself.
There was nothing.
She smiled, and the relief made her even more lightheaded. She’d been holding her breath and hadn’t known it. She turned to Morgan. “You see? Creed didn’t steal this carriage. He would never do such a thing.”
Morgan’s gaze fell to her with the same gentleness as his earlier words and he turned back to the carriage.
She was aware when the sound of Harry’s movements stopped before they went on.
She heard someone else pull in a breath.
Mena nearly refused to turn around, but she knew she had no choice.
She slowly turned, and she felt Morgan’s hand raise to her shoulder.
At first, she didn’t see anything, but then it became clear.
The metal had not only been painted but imprinted, branding that cut and left a mark better than any paint could do, forever making it known to the world who it belonged to.
The lion and unicorn taunted her as she stared into their vicious eyes and never before had she realized how ferocious the seal seemed. Horror ripped through her.
She took a step back, but Morgan was there, not giving her a way to retreat, yet he didn’t stop her from turning away. “That means nothing,” she whispered. “Creed could have brought the carriage from someone else who’d stolen it.”
Morgan looked past her. “You may return inside. Thank you.”
Everyone retreated into the house, leaving her and Morgan alone.
“You’re right,” Morgan said. “Creed didn’t steal it from the princess directly. Another man, one of her former drivers, stole it and we English spies took it from there.”
“How did Creed get it?” Mena asked.
“He stole it from us and gave it to you.”
Mena shook her head. “No, you’re lying.” She wouldn’t believe it. It all had to be a mistake.
“You know he had to have known. You told me yourself you remember that the carriage was freshly painted when you’d received it. He had to have known. The seal would have been discovered.”
“But why would he keep a royal carriage? Why not return it to the princess? To the future queen?” Mena asked.
“Because Creed doesn’t see Princess Victoria as a future queen and will do whatever he can to see to her end.”
Mena closed her mouth. She suspected that from her uncle, always secretly, but could never understand it.
So, Creed didn’t like the princess. She’d always known this. The carriage, however… that did upset her greatly. Now she felt ill just thinking of the many times she’d ridden in it. Creed had made her a part of his deception and that hurt.
Still, that didn’t mean he was plotting the princess’ end and though she didn’t wish to, she asked, “What proof do you have that he’s trying to ensure Princess Victoria never sees the throne?”
“I don’t have proof to show you. Creed is smart. I’ve no idea what he is planning, but I thought that you could help.”
She leaned her head away though she didn’t take a step from his hands. “Me? Why would I help you?”
“Because you’re a woman who would do the right thing. It’s there in everything you do. Even leaving Ralph behind, you did it to protect a man you thought innocent. I understand that. Ralph understands it, though he doesn’t wish to. He believes you’ll hurt me.”
She moved closer. “I would never hurt you.”
Some measure of warmth filled his eyes. “If not just me, then the entire organization.”
“How?”
“By betraying me,” he confessed. “By becoming my wife, you’ll have more knowledge about my comings and goings, things Creed can use to ensure we never catch him.”
She frowned, wanting to shout and say he wasn’t a criminal, but the evidence lay behind her. The carriage was proof. Creed had lied and stolen and made her keep something that wasn’t hers. She didn’t even want to look at the carriage again and didn’t know how she’d face the princess next week without her guilt being written on her face.
A memory of her earlier visit with Creed flashed into her mind. “Creed is not all bad. He’s been working to find the men in charge of the stabbings. He believes finding them will fix his reputation.”
She’d caught him off guard. That was obvious by the way he jerked his head back.
“Creed told you this?” he asked.
“Yes, we’ve been trying for months to find a way to restore his reputation. He believes he’s close to finding the man. He told me his name.”
“What’s his name?” Morgan’s hold on her shoulders was tight.
Mena thought hard but then shook her head. “I can’t remember, but I recall his face.”
“You saw him?” he asked.
“No, but Creed had a man make his likeness. I believe he intends to hunt for him.”
“Could you recall the likeness enough for Nora to draw him?”
She nodded. “But I don’t think Creed needs your help. He’s gotten this far on his own. Let him do it.” Let him restore himself.
Morgan ran his hands down her arms and cupped her elbows, the sweet gesture spreading through her and touched her heart. Were they no longer at odds? Where did they stand? “Wouldn’t it be better for everyone to get this name before he had someone act again? Would you rather another victim like George?”
She closed her eyes at the mention of her driver. “No,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t.”
He dropped one of his hands and propelled her inside.
The women were in the sitting room and stopped speaking once Mena stepped past the threshold. They’d most likely been speaking about her.
Morgan said, “Nora, Mena might know the man who’s in charge of the stabbings and is willing to describe him to you.”
“I’ll have my driver return home to get my paints,” Nora told him and headed from the room. There seemed to be no time to wait for a maid to arrive after pulling the bell. Nora was acting swiftly, as though she knew what Morgan was after or even more what he truly was.
Morgan turned to Marianne and Maria. “Thank you for coming.”
The sisters moved forward, and Mena stiffened.
Marianne stopped before her, and her expression was sad. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. If you ever wish to speak about it, know I’m here.”
Mena was surprised and even more surprised when Maria touched her shoulder with a small smile before departing with Marianne. She watched them leave in wonder.
Morgan, as if in her mind, said, “They both saw the look of terror that came to your eyes when you saw the lion and unicorn on the carriage. You didn’t know it was there and truly believed Creed innocent. They also understand what it’s like to lose a father who loved them. When their father died, Wardington took them in.”
Mena recalled hearing some of that story but not all of it. Now knowing both women, she understood their kindness. “Does Marianne know you’re a spy?”
“Yes.”
“And Nora?”
He nodded.
She frowned. “Sopherina as well?”
He paused and said, “They all know.”
Something unsettling happened within her. She’d thought when Morgan had told her it had been their secret alone. Now she realized she was not the only woman who knew.
And what did it matter anyway? Most likely, she and Morgan would not be marrying now. Though Creed had done something terrible, she wasn’t ready to let him go, and Morgan had already confessed she couldn’t keep them both.
Dinner would not be enough to bring the men together.
Pain she’d not imagined possible took hold of her. She felt lost and abandoned and didn’t know what to do.
He cupped her cheek and lifted her head to meet his eyes.
She waited for him to speak, to say words that would reassure her that things would be all right between them.
Nora chose that moment to enter the room, and he let her go before taking a step back.
When Morgan did speak, his eyes were distant. “I want to thank you for doing this.”
“I’m doing it for George,” she decided to say. And then, because her pain was so great, she asked, “You do intend to hold to your promise, don’t you? You’ll end the engagement in a way that spares me ridicule?”
He pressed his lips together, nodded, and then bowed. “I will do everything I can.” Then, without meeting her eyes again, he turned and left.