Page 66 of A Modest Independence

Tom’s brow creased. “No.” He shook his head. “Never that. He didn’t need to resort to such foul tactics. It was enough that people knew that he knew. By the time he took me on, he’d developed a reputation. He was a man to be feared. People called him the spider behind his back. Though nothing was ever truly behind Fothergill’s back. He knew very well what was said about him. I daresay he liked being thought a spider, one with a vast web stretching out over London and beyond.”

Jenny suppressed a shudder. “He sounds a dreadful man.”

“He is. And he’s as responsible for saving my life as Thornhill or Archer. He taught me all he knew. Molded me in his image.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re nothing like the man you describe. You’re your own person.”

“What I am is his successor.” A dry smile edged Tom’s mouth. “Though no one’s assigned me a moniker yet.”

She managed a faint smile in return. There was nothing of humor in it. “Thank heaven. If anyone started calling you the spider, I’d have to cut your acquaintance.”

“Jenny…”

“Do you know, I always suspected you were dangerous in some way. It’s the way you carry yourself. So purposefully unremarkable.”

“I’m hardly dangerous. Certainly not to you.”

“I know that.”

“Then why are you looking at me that way? As if I’ve suddenly become a stranger?” Tom didn’t give her an opportunity to answer. “He’s dying, Jenny. Wasting away from the inside out. He won’t last another year.”

His face was taut, almost cold, but Jenny detected a flicker of genuine sorrow in the depths of his gaze. She softened immediately. Whatever his secrets, this was no stranger. This was Tom. Her Tom. “I’m sorry. Truly.”

“He’s an infuriating old devil. I can’t help but think I’ve let him down.”

“How could you have?”

“By having doubts. By occasionally doing what was right instead of what was necessary.”

She stretched out her hand to him over the hamper. He took it without hesitation. Neither of them was wearing gloves. Their fingers threaded together in an intimate clasp. “What will you do?”

“When he’s gone? I shall continue as I am. And one day, if I hold fast to my resolve, the worthy cases will have replaced the unworthy ones entirely.” Tom raised their joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I must confess, I’m heartily looking forward to it.”

Jenny’s pulse skittered. She watched, a little breathless, as he kissed her hand once more before drawing it to his cheek. He’d been clean shaven when they arrived in port this morning, but it was nearly six in the evening now. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. It tickled her skin in the most thrilling way. “Tom?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you bribe the railway porter?”

He regarded her steadily. “I did.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to be alone with you.” His thumb moved over the curve of her finger. “Do you disapprove? Would you rather we’d forced Mira and Ahmad to remain with us? Or been obliged to share the compartment with the Hardcastles or the Planks?”

“No indeed, but…”

“But?”

“The more time we spend together like this, the harder it’s going to be to say goodbye.”

Tom went still, his Adam’s apple bobbing on a swallow. The weight of his gaze conveyed both so much and so very little. “What would you have me do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Shall I refrain from touching you? From holding your hand or—”

“No.” She squeezed tight to his hand, refusing to let him go. “I don’t want any of this to stop. Unless you—”