confident in saying that you are, without a doubt, the most resourceful woman I have ever met.”
She nodded, evidently unsure how to take the observation, and started up the steps. He heard a soft thunk when the hem of her skirt brushed against the first riser.
“Miss Glade, I cannot help but notice that you seem to clank a bit when you walk,” he said. “I noticed it earlier when your skirts brushed against the door frame. I must admit, I am curious. Is this some new fashion?”
She paused on the staircase and looked back over her shoulder. “Hardly, sir. I knew that once we were away from the castle we would require money to survive. Over the course of the past few weeks, I helped myself to some of the smaller pieces of silver and several other items that appeared to have some value. I sewed them into my skirts.”
He inclined his head, impressed. “A clever trick, Miss Glade. One that is much favored by pickpockets and streetwalkers, I believe.”
She bristled in outrage. “I assure you, I am no common thief, sir.”
What had possessed him to make such a stupid remark? He shouldhave realized that she would not take it as the compliment he had intended.
“I never meant to imply that you were a thief, Miss Glade,” he said.
But he knew it was too late. The damage had been done.
“I only did what I thought I had to do for the safety and security of my students. It was not as if I had a great deal of choice.”
“I am aware of that. My apologies, Miss Glade.”
“Good night, Mr. Wells.”
She stalked up the stairs, skirts clanking and thudding on every step, and vanished into the shadows.
He went back to the fire and stood looking into it for a long time.
It was plain that the teacher did not hold thieves in the highest regard.
Pity.
He was such a skilled one.
5
S he went swiftly down the hall to the door of the inn room. So he considered her little better than a common street thief or a prostitute who robbed her customers. Why should she care what he thought of her? She and Ambrose Wells were two people thrown together by a strange twist of fate. When this situation had been sorted out they would go their separate ways and that would be the end of it.
Just as well, she told herself. If he considered her a thief simply because, under extraordinary circumstances, she had stolen some small items that did not belong to her, what would his opinion be if he were to learn of her unconventional past?
Try to maintain some perspective. Petty thievery was the least of her sins tonight. She had killed a man.
Her mouth went dry. A vision of Rimpton lying facedown, blood leaking from the grievous wound, rose in front of her like a scene from a nightmare.
She pushed the image out of her mind. A suitable case of shatterednerves would have to wait for a more convenient occasion. She had other, more important things to concern her now. She must concentrate on taking care of Phoebe, Hannah, Edwina and Theodora.
She entered the small chamber quietly, trying not to disturb Hannah and Phoebe, who shared the room with her.
“There you are, Miss Glade.” Phoebe sat up in the shadows, clutching the bedclothes to her throat. “Hannah and I were quite worried.”
“Yes.” On the other side of the bed, Hannah stirred and pushed herself up on one elbow. “Are you all right, Miss Glade?”
“I am perfectly well, thank you.” She lit the candle on the washstand and started removing the pins from her hair. “Why on earth would you think otherwise?”
“Hannah said that Mr. Wells might try to take advantage of you,” Phoebe explained in her usual forthright manner.
“Take advantage of me.” Concordia swung around, wincing slightly when she heard her skirts clink against the side of the washstand. “Good heavens, Hannah, whatever were you thinking? I assure you, Mr. Wells was a perfect gentleman.” Aside from that odious remark comparing her cleverness to the tricks of pickpockets and prostitutes, she