Page 43 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

He didn’t move from his spot, somewhat comforted by the hard edge of the dresser that poked into his hip.

“I knew what Hensley asked of me was wrong. I wouldn’t have before I met you.

Or maybe it’s more than that. Living in your time period, seeing the enlightenment that comes from decades of science and education has put a rather sharp spotlight on my actions as a nineteenth-century man.

“AJ’s brother, Adam, doesn’t speak often of his addiction to gambling or the results of it that almost destroyed his family and his career.

Yet, it brought AJ, Finn, and Ethan together.

I’ve seen the downfall of many from gambling in this era.

My father lost his ship to Finn because of it, after all.

I never thought I’d fall prey to something so insidious, but I think I understand Adam better now.

“It seems I have my own addiction, less identifiable but no less powerful. These missions I’ve been involved with over the last couple of years have become somewhat habit-forming.

I don’t know if it’s the thrill of adventure, the allure of danger, or for love of country.

Perhaps it’s all those things. I know every time I meet with Hensley, he’ll have something to dangle in front of me, and when these little missions tie together to become a larger one, I can’t stop myself from getting involved. ”

He rubbed his face with both hands then dragged them over his head.

He refused to look at her, unsure of what he’d see.

“All Hensley asked of me was to take a few hours’ watch each day to help identify McDuff’s man.

But, like all of his missions, with each new lead it was like a thread slowly wrapping itself around me until the threads became ropes, and I couldn’t do anything to unbind them.

The decision to release André was my idea, and it became one more binding. ”

He glanced at her, but instead of an irritated wildcat, he found the reflective Stella. It didn’t reassure him.

S tella had fought between irritation and exasperation when Beckworth admitted he was working with Hensley behind her back.

When he took full ownership of his actions and spoke as if it were an addiction, she backed off any ill-advised words.

He’d been caught in the middle between the woman he loved and the man who’d given him a respectable career that fit his singular skills. Something he’d yet to find in Baywood.

The fault lay at Hensley’s feet, but could she blame him?

He was a man of this century, and as much as he listened to and included women in his missions, he’d only involved AJ, Maire, and her because they’d been the focus of the mission, whether they’d wanted to be or not.

Or, as in the mission to locate McDuff, Stella’s manipulations had fed off Hensley’s plans to find a way into the smuggler’s operations.

Not because a woman was as skilled or smart as a man, but because she could play a specific role to get close to McDuff.

Hensley must tell Mary about his work, but after Stella considered it, there would be a great deal he wouldn’t share.

He would never completely understand the relationship Beckworth and she shared, the one where there were no secrets between them.

Not important ones. Beckworth had struggled with Hensley’s request, and she’d been too wrapped up in her own mission to notice.

She sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her. “Come, sit.” She almost laughed when his brows inched together. He was suspicious. Well, he wasn’t going to get out of this completely unscathed.

She waited patiently as he removed his cravat.

It was probably feeling like a noose about now.

She did her best to keep her expression blank.

It wasn’t easy, especially when he sat several inches away.

Not nearly as close as usual. She let the distance remain.

He was feeling guilty and defensive, emotions she was quite familiar with after this evening’s events.

How was she supposed to know her activities had been connected to a mission she hadn’t known existed? Her brow lifted, and she gave Beckworth a quick glance. He was watching her, and he caught her raised brow because his own lifted. She stared at the dressing table and let her thoughts play out.

If Hensley hadn’t prevented Beckworth from telling her about the mission, which she agreed would have irritated her if she hadn’t been allowed to help, they might have connected the dots faster.

Not because she would have been part of their meetings, but because Beckworth and she would have shared information. Something true partners did.

“Where are you?”

She turned back to Beckworth. He was a few inches closer, this time with a concerned pinch between his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You seem a hundred miles away.” He pulled at one of her locks, a tentative smile flashing across his face before disappearing. He wasn’t sure where he stood with her, and it tore at her heart.

She took his hand and turned it palm up. He’d done that with her before, pretending to read her palm as Maire often did with Ethan, which had only confirmed in her mind that Maire was some kind of fairy.

This time, it was her turn to run a light finger along the lines that crisscrossed over his palm. He shivered underneath the soft touch.

“What do you see?” he asked.

“I see a line that forks into two where another line intersects it.”

“What does it mean?”

She quirked her lips. “That a devious man forced you to take the wrong road.” She felt him tense.

“Fortunately…” She traced her finger farther along the crease.

“The two lines join into a single one again.” She folded his fingers over his palm and brought his hand to her lips, where she placed a small kiss before setting it on his leg.

She smiled at him. “And now all is well.”

“I shouldn’t have listened to Hensley.”

“No. But I understand why you did. I know I can be difficult and manipulative, but I also know how important the missions are to you. I admit I would have been irritated by Hensley’s request if you’d told me at the time.”

“But you would have given it some thought and stayed out of it. I know.”

She snorted. “I’m not sure I would have stayed out of it completely. I’d want to know everything you were discovering, but I didn’t see many of McDuff’s sailors and wouldn’t have been of much help. And with the thefts, I’ve been too busy to pay attention to what you’ve been up to.”

“Apparently, we’re too alike, Lady Caldway.”

“So true, Lord Beckworth.”

Silence fell, but he took her hand and squeezed, which told her everything was alright between them.

“Whatever possessed you to consider André Belato?”

“It was when I went to Newgate to gather information on Gemini.” He rubbed a thumb over her hand as he stared at some spot on the wall.

“I’ve seen a lot of bad while living in the East End.

But here was a man, living the most bitter of lives, imprisoned for being nothing more than a gullible Frenchman.

He was neither a soldier or a spy. He was nothing but a drunk in the wrong place at the wrong time, left for the guards to find by his own sister.

A sister who’d been sold into servitude as a child.

I’ve seen men as hapless as him. Yet, it wasn’t their faces I’ve seen in my dreams.”

He didn’t say another word as his head drooped. His gaze focused on the floor, but his hand still gripped hers.

There wasn’t anything she could say. He’d never spoken of André to her, and he’d said little of Gemini since her death.

Stella had assumed it was because she’d killed Gaines, and he avoided the topic for her benefit.

She’d never killed a man until then. Though it was traumatic, she’d do it again under the same circumstances.

Since they’d both put it behind them without a word, she’d never considered how Beckworth might have felt.

She understood he had mixed feelings about Gemini’s death, but she had never considered he would be haunted by the Frenchman’s fate.

She wasn’t a psychiatrist, and could be overthinking it, but Beckworth’s irrational connection to André’s life was tied to his own harsh background. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

She nudged his shoulder. “So, what’s the plan with André? And what can we do to keep him safe?”