“Indeed.”
A frown formed on her brow. “Doeseveryoneknow our documents are ‘forged’?”
“I doubt anyone does. Until you confirmed it, even I wasn’t entirely sure.”
And he probably shouldn’t tell her that Beasley had forged French passports for him and his friends for their escape. Not that it had helped them. Someone had reported their escape plans to the diabolical commandant of Verdun’s detainee camp. Before they could get away, they’d been caught by the gendarmes and summarily packed off to the dungeon in Bitche, France, where they’d remained for three years, until Napoleon’s abdication this past April.
He forced a smile. “But I did know that Beasley … er … doctored Morris’s will for Jon so Tory wouldn’t guess that her father hadn’t actually left a dowry for her. So, when I heard that you and your mother were in England, I thought perhaps your papers … well …”
Relief spread over her face. “Ah, yes, I remember the press claiming that Tory’s ‘dowry’ did not actually come from her father, but from Jon.”
“Exactly. Thankfully, no one speculated about how she and her father’s attorney came to believe otherwise. It would have been very bad for Beasley if they had. Forgery is treated severely in England.”
“I know.” She gazed down at her hands. “That is why I am here to speak with you.”
“You’re worried about Mr. Beasley?”
Her troubled gaze shot to him. “To be honest, I am worried about me and Maman. What will become of us if anyone questions the validity of our passports? Or, worse yet, realizes they are forged.”
“I don’t see why anyone would.”
She stiffened. “Obviously, this Mr. Nash does.”
“Right. Of course.” He narrowed his gaze on her. “But I’m not sure what you wantmeto do about it.”
“I was hoping …” She returned to circling the room and not meeting his eyes. “You have friends in the government, do you not?”
He cocked his head with a frown. “Some. Why?”
“Might they be willing to do a favor for you? To procure—perhaps—new, legitimate papers for Maman and me without revealing that the old ones are suspect?”
Well. This was an interesting turn. And come to think of it, notnecessarily a bad one. “Is there a reason you aren’t asking this favor of Jon or even Scovell, who has multiple contacts in government?”Or are you asking me because you know I’m attracted to you?
She stared at him as if he were a fool. “Jon and Tory are in the north seeing to his estate right now, so I am not sure what they could do. And the captain’s brother is on his deathbed, so I do not think I should bother him at such a time.”
“Ah. Right.”
So, perhaps shedidn’tremember that foolish kiss Heathbrook had given her years ago, after all. Although he wasn’t sure how she could have forgotten it. The memory was burned in his brain, not to mention other parts of his anatomy.
Stop thinking like a randy nineteen-year-old. You know what troublethatgot you into. And you’re not that chap anymore, even if your cousin thinks you are.
But Yates’s “spies” couldn’t be very good. Heathbrook had practically lived like a monk since his return. His every day was consumed with three things—finding out who’d betrayed them to their French captors in Verdun, setting his estate to rights, and getting his brothers back home with him. In his six months back, he hadn’t even been allowed to see them, for God’s sake. It was maddening.
He rounded the desk to stand behind it, if only to put some distance between them. “One more question: Do you remember seeing Nash or meeting him in Verdun?”
She knit her brow. “I do not think so. I certainly did not recognize his name or even face. But there were many English soldiers to whom I paid no mind. You may recall, I did not spend time visiting the Verdun theater or the gambling places that Wirion and, later, Courcelles set up to steal from the détenus. I encountered few détenus beyond you, Papa, and your friends, and then only because I worked for your landlady.”
“Can you at least describe Nash?”
“I can do better than that. I can show you what he looks like. I sketched him. Wait here.” And with that, she hurried from the room.
She’dsketchedthe man? Good God. He’d had no idea she sketched. Or for that matter, did any sort of art at all. He reallydidn’t know much about her, did he, despite seeing her frequently in Verdun. Once Morris had warned him away, he hadn’t delved any deeper. Now he wished he had.
As for this Nash chap, the man might be fishing for information about the Bernard ladies’ papers to find out who helped Heathbrook and his friends. Lewis Nash might suspect they were searching for the man who’d betrayed them. Nash might evenbetheir betrayer, hoping to stop their investigation by … by what?
Heathbrook scowled. Ruining Beasley? That made no sense. Although perhaps Nash had guessed that they would protect Beasley at all costs because of what he’d done for them. Perhaps the chap was hoping to threatenthemby threatening Beasley.
Or, since Nash hadn’t seemed to know Beasley’s name, by threatening whoever had given them the forged French passports they’d never had the chance to use.