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“We?” Her fingers began tapping on his sleeve. “Who is the ‘we?’ Is the Bushy Hero going to be at the funeral?” Her voice rose with hope.
This time, he couldn’t help himself. “Of course not. He’s no more than a criminal himself.”
Her eyes widened. “He’s a hero.”
“Who hides behind a mask. Because he has something to hide.” He’d thought that she’d been linked to the new Earl of Kinross. She seemed rather attached to the Bushy Hero for a woman about to marry. He grimaced. It only proved what he always thought true of all elites: they were loyal to no one but their own ambition. “Besides, I thought you and the earl…”
She tightened her grip on his arm. “You heard that? I mean, I’ve hoped but—” She stopped again, her lips clamping shut.
So she was interested in Kinross. He’d have to be very careful not to reveal his true purpose. But if she was after the earl, why did she get so dreamy about the Bushy Hero? And what would she do if she found out that hero was Wyatt and himself? “The point is, I don’t know the earl and as a servant—”
“We’ve already established you’re not.”
True. “He’ll think I am, which means I won’t really have access to him, will I? But I’ll need certain information to keep everyone safe and—”
“Tell me, how did this become your job? What connection do you have to the queen and the Bushy Hero?”
He stalled. Because it was an excellent question and he should have seen it coming. “Not me—Wyatt. The queen…” What did he say without revealing too much?
Her eyes crinkled as she stared at him. “Did she ask Wyatt for help?”
Clearing his throat, Ralph looked into her clear, angelic face. Why was he lying to this woman? It felt wrong…like stealing a sweet from a child. Which was odd considering he’d just accused her of being opportunistic with her affections.
And why should he lie to her at all? He’d wanted to be an earl to right injustices, not cause them. Was the title corrupting him already?
But if he didn’t move forward with the queen’s offer, what would he do with his life?
He couldn’t be a boxer again, he was too old. He didn’t think it a good idea to keep stalking criminals in the night.
And Wyatt didn’t need him the way he had after his accident.
Many might dream of such power and position, but despite growing up in a viscount’s house, he never had. His father had shown him the ugly side of power. Angry and abusive, the viscount had used his position to treat others horridly.
Ralph never wanted to be that man. Ever.
But what did that mean for his own path forward? Was lying to Clara and others so different than the many mistakes his father had made?
“Mister Fitzroy?”
He blinked, having lost the thread of the conversation. Wyatt. Queen. Help. “Wyatt’s name was specifically mentioned in the report given to the queen. I’ll see him safe, and the best way to do that is to investigate the criminals set to perpetrate the crime.”
Clara nodded, leaning close. “My friend Charlotte, the new Countess of Westmoreland, has helped the police with a few investigations. We could enlist her help if need be. And certainly I’ll do whatever I can. Just tell me, Mister Fitzroy. What do you need?”
“I’m sure I’m fine.”
But she drew in a breath, her other hand fluttering. “You might consider being introduced as someone other than a valet. If it’s an acquaintance of Kinross’s that’s the perpetrator, you’ll have better access to them if you’re a guest.” And then she nibbled her lip, hiding a smile. “And your valet impression is somewhat…” She didn’t finish but he understood.
He was not convincing. He looked into her beautiful face, so open and giving, and he winced. She didn’t seem opportunistic. Clara seemed open, honest, and truly concerned.
Looking forward, he saw that Wyatt had stopped and turned to look back at Ralph, his gaze narrowed in suspicion.
Wyatt had every right to doubt.
In this moment, Ralph felt like the worst sort of cad.
