Page 72 of A Convenient Fiction

Laura doubted very much that George would ever stoop to seeking employment, no matter how much money he owed. “I should think the vastness of the sum speaks more to George’s weakness than Alex’s villainy.”

“You didn’t see George as I did last night. He wept when he confessed the whole of it. You see, it was me Mr. Archer wanted. In exchange for George introducing us, and helping to assure a match, Mr. Archer promised to forgive all of his debts.”

Laura had wondered what hold Alex had over George. What it was that had made George seem so afraid of him. The truth behind their relationship was diabolical, though not wholly surprising. “He didn’t want you,” she said. “He wanted Edgington Park.”

Henrietta gave her a sharp look. “You don’t mean to say that you knew?”

Laura shrugged one shoulder. “Not of their bargain, or that George owed him money. But I knew he was after your estate.”

“How did you know? Who told you?”

“Does it matter?”

Henrietta’s lips thinned. “I daresay it doesn’t. With Mr. Archer gone for good—”

“You assume he isn’t coming back.”

“Of course he isn’t. Why would he?”

Why indeed.

Laura twined her fingers tight in the folds of her shawl. “For his ten thousand pounds, if for nothing else.”

“George doesn’t have it. And after Mr. Archer’s public display at Margate—”

“He saved my life, Hen,” Laura said quietly.

“Nonsense. There was a coast-guardsman on the cliffs. There were men with rowboats just near the shore. Mr. Archer had no call to play the hero.” She returned the porcelain dog to its place on the mantel. “And to think that he pretended to dislike the sea! As if he were afraid of it.”

“He was afraid.” Laura knew that much to a certainty. He’d been afraid, and he’d gone into the water anyway. For her.

“He certainly wasn’t. You should have seen the way he dived beneath the waves, without a moment’s hesitation. And then—when he kissed you—”

“It wasn’t a kiss.”

“It looked like one, and that’s all that matters.”

Henrietta was right. The fact that Alex had pressed his mouth to Laura’s on a public beach, in front of a crowd of onlookers, was damning. No one seemed to care why he’d done it. Not even if the act had saved her life.

“I begin to suspect that you’d far rather he let me die.”

Henrietta turned to her with a scowl. “You’re twisting my words. I only—”

“You only wanted him for yourself, and now he’s entangled with me, and you can’t bear it. Well, you are just going to have to learn to bear it. Just as I did when George chose you again and again.”

Henrietta’s mouth fell open. “Are you jealous of me?”

“I’m not jealous of anyone. I merely think it hypocritical—”

“I’m no hypocrite. I simply speak as I find.”

“Yes. Hypocritically.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Henrietta burst out. “You’re being an absolute shrew to me. Heaven knows I don’t deserve it.”

“Forgive me for being blunt. In case you hadn’t noticed, I have a great deal on my mind at present.”

“Which is why I’ve come. To tell you that I realize what happened wasn’t wholly your fault. Aside from that, I don’t know what else I can do.”