Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle. Bronwyn Scott
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sold myself in marriage once. I did not enjoy it. I am not likely to pursue arrangements that would put me in similar circumstances again,’ Nora said baldly.
‘How do we get from young romantic to hardened cynic? It seems to me that you’ve left some pieces out of the story.’ Brandon was quick to note the gap.
Nora took a sip of tea to fortify herself. ‘I was alone and on the run, except for Hattie and Alfred.’
‘Are they your parents?’ Brandon looked perplexed.
‘No. They are not even relatives.’ Nora shook her head sadly, staring without seeing at the sandwich in her hand.
Brandon moved next to her, the tea tray forgotten. He took her hand and intertwined his fingers between hers. ‘What happened to your parents? How did you come to this?’ he asked softly. ‘It’s time for stories, I think. Nora, you can be yourself with me.’
It was amazingly easy to open up her memories after keeping them closed for so long. Nora found, once she started, that she couldn’t stop the flood of remembrances. ‘My father was a successful businessman here in Manchester. I was an only child and I had plenty of luxuries, a tutor and a good education. Then, one day, there was an explosion at the factory. My father died trying to save some workers trapped under fallen timbers.
‘My mother and I were left well provided for, but I saw what happened to the families of the workers who were killed. There was no help for them to repay them for what they had lost. We tried to help, but it didn’t matter. They were destitute and living in the slums before the year was out, through no fault of their own. Investigators later concluded the fire started because an improperly made machine became too hot. Carelessness cost those families everything and they were simply told they were expendable.’
‘My mother was ruined in an altogether different way. After my father died, she lost her will to go on. When I was fourteen, she passed away in the night. The doctors could not explain it. Nothing was wrong with her except for a broken heart. I was packed off to my only relatives, a strict aunt and uncle in Bradford.’
Nora shuddered at the recollection. They’d been puritanical in their beliefs and lifestyle. The home, while large, was austere and empty of frills. She was allowed only the most sombre, high-necked gowns, and the smallest modicum of freedom. Many days were spent serving out punishments in her room—punishments she had earned for sneaking out of the house with supplies for those in need. Her uncle believed the poor got what they deserved and her aunt feared the dirt and illness that came with poverty. In a way, she’d been playing The Cat long before it had become official.
‘How does Reggie Portman figure into all this?’ Brandon prompted quietly when she fell silent.
‘My uncle had a marriage planned for me to a man that was stricter than he. I couldn’t fathom a worse fate and I couldn’t imagine how I would manage living such a life. It wasn’t the life I wanted. I felt I was in prison. There was a fair in town, and Reggie Portman was there, a charming and handsome travelling merchant. He offered me a way out. I was desperate and I took it, four days before the official betrothal.’
‘And taught you everything you know?’ Brandon supplied wryly. ‘A good role model.’
Nora grimaced in censure. ‘Everything has its place. I use my skills for good, not evil.’
‘That’s debatable.’
‘Not today it isn’t. Do you want to hear my story or not?’ Nora scolded, back on familiar ground, the hardest part of the telling over.
Brandon acquiesced graciously. ‘My apologies, please continue.’
‘Travelling with Reggie was exciting at first. But as Reggie and I moved from place to place, I saw the same stories being played out in different towns. The poor got poorer and the rich got richer, not caring who they stepped on to make a guinea. I promised myself I’d do something about it, just as my mother and I had tried to do for the workers at my father’s factory and as I had tried to do at my uncle’s, especially for children and widows; people who had limited ways of improving their station in life.’
Nora made a face. ‘Reggie didn’t share my attitude, although I thought he cared enough for me to help anyway, out of affection. But what he loved was making money at any cost. He sold fine fabrics, jewellery, expensive trinkets. He lavished gifts on me and my head was turned. I assumed he would want to use his largesse to help others. But I was wrong.
‘Once we married, I discovered he was singularly interested in making a pound wherever he could. His finer goods were acquired through illegal means and the items he sold at discount were so flawed that they were of little use.’
‘You married him for his philanthropy and he let you down,’ Brandon summarised.
‘He was boyishly handsome. He could make me laugh when he made the effort, which was seldom after we courted. His charming was an act. He just wanted someone to trail around the countryside, cooking and cleaning for him.
‘The worst part was once I got over the realisation that he was a borderline criminal with his business dealings, I couldn’t leave him. The law doesn’t allow for a woman to cast off a husband and, even if I had been able to, I had no way to support myself.’ Nora paused, letting Brandon assimilate the pieces of her history.
‘Then you ran away and became The Cat?’ Brandon guessed.
Nora shook her head. ‘Not at first. I started small. In the beginning, I left baskets of goods I pilfered from Reggie’s stock. He was a terrible book-keeper and kept a shoddy inventory. It was easy to take a length of cloth here and few tins of food there.’
‘He never caught on?’
‘Not for a while. He was quite angry when he discovered what I had been doing.’ Nora cringed at the memory.
‘He hit you?’
‘He beat me up quite thoroughly. I started carrying the knife in the sleeve sheath after that. One night he came back to our camp site drunk. It was worse than usual. I pulled the knife and, when he lunged for me, I stabbed him in the shoulder. Between the wound and the alcohol, he passed out. I knew I couldn’t be there when he woke up.
‘I took what was left of his stock, and had the good fortune to meet up with Hattie and Alfred at a fair. They were smalltime con artists, but they were getting on in years for such living. They liked the idea of settling in a house, even if it was just for a year or so at a time. After that, I started being The Cat in earnest. When it became clear that I had to have a means of income, I expanded The Cat’s range of activities.’
‘Incredible,’ Brandon breathed when she had finished.
Nora gave a bittersweet smile at the sight of his admiration. ‘That is why I can’t possibly marry you. I have to be The Cat for the sake of helping others and because I must live in hiding. Reggie is out there somewhere. As long as I keep moving and forgo my true identity, he can’t find me. You cannot risk being connected to me.’
‘Do you really expect me to let you walk away after knowing that?’ Brandon said softly.
‘Yes.’ Nora stamped her foot in frustration. ‘There’s nothing for you here but the harbouring of a fugitive.’ Especially since you don’t love me.
Not an iota of affection. She had noticed that he admired her. She fired his blood like no other, but that was all lust and physical attraction. It was the novelty of her. Those things would fade and Brandon would be left wondering why he’d risked so much for so little. And, of course, she’d be left hurt because in the final analysis she liked him a great deal. A great deal.
‘It should be for me to decide,’ Brandon said. ‘You are my responsibility. I will not have you martyr yourself out of some misguided notion that I am the one who needs saving.’
There was that word again: responsibility. She was coming to hate it. She would hate it if it wasn’t so important to her too. She understood the power of responsibility all too well.