Page 77 of A Modest Independence

“A king’s ransom, or so it seemed to us. And that wasn’t all. There was some jewelry in the pouch as well. An old ruby ring and a diamond pendant. Very old, if the cut of the stones are as I remember.” His thumb moved over the back of her hand, idly stroking her skin. “I was ecstatic, of course. Right away, I began planning our futures. We’d leave the orphanage. Buy ourselves new clothes, procure passage on the mail coach, and go to London. And we’d eat whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. None of us would ever go hungry again.”

Her mouth curved in a smile. “It sounds a reasonable plan.”

“I thought so. Archer saw it differently. He didn’t want me to tell anyone. Not yet. He asked me to wait a week until he’d decided what to do.”

“He thought it his decision alone?”

“I don’t believe he thought anything. The moment we opened that pouch, he lost all sense of proportion. I think it scared him to suddenly have so much money in his grasp. I told him we must bring it back with us, but he refused. When I tried to take it, he hit me. And he kept hitting me until I let it go. Until I promised I wouldn’t say a word to the others.” Tom’s expression hardened at the memory. “My God, but I hated him in that moment. He’d never before used his strength against me. Two days later, when Fothergill came to the orphanage, I was still seething with rage. He asked me who was responsible for my injuries and I wouldn’t tell him. Within the week, he’d taken me away to London.”

“Why on earth didn’t you say anything?”

“I’d given Archer my word to keep silent on the subject. I’d promised him a week. After that…I suppose I could have told Thornhill and Cross, but by then it was too late.” Tom met her gaze, his own eyes weary. “Archer didn’t just disappear, Jenny. He disappeared with the money. He took it for himself, Thornhill’s and Cross’s one chance at freedom and security. How could I ever tell them what he’d done? What I’d let him do?”

“Has Mr. Thornhill no idea?”

“No.” Tom shook his head. “Thornhill believes in loyalty above all things. The betrayal would break his heart.”

“And what of your heart?”

He gave her a smile that was as weary as his eyes. “Bruised, but not broken. I had Fothergill and the promise of a profession. It was Thornhill and Cross who were left behind.”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

“Can’t I?”

“You were a boy. An honest boy trying to honor your promise to a friend.”

“Alex Archer was my friend. My best friend, I daresay. He was also selfish and desperate—a dangerous combination, as my nose can attest.”

Jenny leaned closer to him, her words a soft suggestion. “You should tell Mr. Thornhill.”

“To what purpose?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do. And because there are some secrets that shouldn’t be kept. It’s a burden on your conscience. Such things weigh heavily after a time.”

“You speak from experience?”

“Hardly. I haven’t any secrets worth telling.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, echoing her earlier words to him.

She laughed. “Truly I haven’t. Ask me anything you like. You’ll see.”

Tom regarded her for a moment, his expression solemn. And then his gaze dropped down her throat to the bare expanse of skin above the scooped bodice of her dinner dress. “Do you always wear that necklace?”

Her smile faded, her free hand moving reflexively to touch the gold chain at her neck. “Yes.”

“Any particular reason?”

“It belonged to my mother.”

“Ah. I see.” His eyes met hers. “It means something to you.”

Jenny privately cursed herself for an idiot. What had she been thinking to open herself up to Tom’s questions? He was the most observant man she’d ever met. A man trained to identify the chinks in his adversaries’ armor. Had she truly believed, even for a moment, that he’d fail to notice her own vulnerabilities?

“Yes, it does. But that’s not why I wear it.” Her fingers threaded through the end of the chain. “There used to be a pendant. Just here. An emerald medallion. It was passed down in my family from mother to daughter for generations. On my mother’s death, it came to me. It was the only piece of jewelry she owned. The only thing she had to leave me save her childhood Bible.”

Tom didn’t press her to say any more. He only listened, his gaze holding hers as gently as he held her hand.