Page 30 of A Modest Independence

“Mrs. Pritchard’s isn’t respectable? I thought it was a lodging house or a hotel of some kind.”

“It is a hotel, in a manner of speaking. One that, ah, caters to gentlemen.”

Her eyes jerked to his. “Do you mean to say you recruited my servants from a—”

“Regrettably, yes. But Ahmad and Mira have no connection with the more sordid aspects of Mrs. Pritchard’s establishment. They’re honest workers. Capable, as well. I can speak for Ahmad in that regard. You could wish for no better protection on your travels.”

“You can’t speak for Mira?”

“I only know her through her cousin. Ahmad came to me last year. Some business over a baronet’s injured shoulder.”

“And you saved him from being transported.” Jenny frowned. “But how? You’re not a barrister. You don’t argue cases in a court of law. Not that I’m aware of anyway.”

“No. That’s correct. I don’t argue cases.”

“Then how—”

“I write. Briefs. Letters. Contracts. That sort of thing.”

She felt as if she were missing something. “That’s all very well, but I don’t see how writing a brief or a letter can save a man from being transported. Or from hanging, come to that.”

Tom smiled slightly. “My writing is very persuasive.”

Jenny regarded him with a furrowed brow. Not for the first time it occurred to her that there was something sinister about Thomas Finchley. He’d told her himself that he found strength in knowledge. That he’d learned from a young age how to accumulate it. And how to leverage it too, apparently.

Good heavens, he didn’t threaten people or…or blackmail them, did he?

She very nearly asked him, but it wasn’t the kind of thing one just blurted out. It would be a scandalous accusation to make. And in very poor taste, too. Gentlemen didn’t take kindly to questions about their honor. To even imply that Tom had broken the law—and in such a despicable manner—could very well damage her friendship with him forever.

Such that they had a friendship.

Her spirits sank. “Is that what you do? Entangle your adversaries with words?”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

She could think of no other. “I’d rather you not do that to me.”

“You’re hardly my adversary, Jenny.”

“No, but I’ve fallen victim to your machinations as surely as they have. Worse, I think. For I didn’t even know that we were adversaries.”

Tom fell silent. She had the sense that her words had taken him off his guard—and that he was determining how best to counter them.

She gave him no chance to formulate a reply. “I’m not a child, you know. You could have told me straight out that you wouldn’t release my funds unless I agreed to be properly escorted on my travels. I’d have railed at you, of course, and probably lost my temper, but we would have compromised in the end. We’re both sensible people, more than capable of finding common ground. You didn’t need to draw a net around me and trap me.”

He might have flinched at that, but he didn’t dispute the charge. Neither did he try to defend against it. He merely looked at her, an expression in his eyes that was hard to read.

“It didn’t feel very good, what you did to me. And after I’d kissed you goodbye, as well. I’ll wager you found that vastly entertaining.”

His face went taut. “Is that what you think of me?”

“What else am I to think?”

“That I was doing what was best for you. That I had your best interest at heart.”

“So you’ve said. But you didn’t listen to me. You didn’t mark my feelings at all. You simply did what you wanted. And you waited to tell me about it until I was wholly ensnared by your scheme. Until I had no choice.”

“There was no solution that would have been ideal. And there was no time for talking things to death. You needed me to solve your problem and I did so, as quickly and efficiently as I could.”