She knew he’d been Blackwell and then Bowles. Lifting her chin, she gave her godfather a cold stare. “Yes.”
“Did you know he was a man called the Vicar?”
Anthony abruptly stood. “Enough. Stone, I think you should go.”
Jane also rose, her eyes round. “He’s the Vicar?” She looked toward Rafe in disbelief, then frowned at her husband.
Anne looked around the table in confusion before fixing on Rafe beside her. “Who is the Vicar?”
“I am,” Rafe said softly, his gaze trained across the table on his uncle. “You’ve done some investigating, I see.”
“Yes, and my response to your claim details all of it: that you are a criminal moneylender known as the Vicar, that you led gangs of thieves and owned many receiver shops with which to fence the items the children who worked for you stole—”
“Stop.” Rafe cut him off, his voice icy and sharp.
Anne tried to process what her godfather had said. Rafe was a criminal?
Jane stepped out from her chair, staring at her husband. “I can’t believe you let my sister become betrothed to him!”
“He said he’d tell her everything, and I was stupid enough to believe him.” Anthony glared at Rafe.
Rafe turned in his chair toward Anne, his face still devoid of almost all emotion except a simmering rage. “I should have told you all this, and I’d planned to. I just…” He glowered toward his uncle, his lip curling and his hands clenching into fists. In that moment, he appeared a criminal, like a man who could hurt someone without much effort or concern.
Ludlow’s eyes glittered across the table. “Don’t forget to tell her how you worked closely with her former betrothed, how Chamberlain delivered gentlemen in need of loans to the Vicar’s doorstep and how you took advantage of their desperation.”
Now Anne stood, unable to remain still another moment. But her legs shook, and she had to clasp the back of the chair for support. “You knew Gilbert?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know I was marrying him?” She put her hand over her mouth as bile rose in her throat. “Would you have let me?”
Rafe bolted out of his chair and took a step toward her. “Never. I’ve thought of killing him for bringing you shame.” His jaw clenched.
“You’d kill him…” She shook her head, her vision swimming. Lowering her hand, she fought to take a breath. “You deny none of this.”
He shook his head as a glimmer of sadness, and perhaps regret, flickered in his eyes. “No. I was a thief. I worked for one of the most powerful criminal bosses in East London. As the Vicar, I lent money at illegally high rates, including to your brother-in-law, to whom Chamberlain introduced me.”
Anne couldn’t believe how wrong she’d been about this man. “You told me you’d disappoint me, that I couldn’t know who you really are.” She wrapped her arms around her middle as if she could stop the pain slashing through her. “But I didn’t listen.” She’d been such a fool.
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
She opened her mouth, but only a sob came out. Her hand itched to slap him, to physically hurt him the way he was hurting her. “You’re a blackguard,” she breathed before running from the dining room. She didn’t stop until she reached her sitting room on the second floor.
A moment later, Jane came inside, her face drawn. “Anne? Oh, Anne.” She rushed forward and put her arms around Anne, stroking her back.
Anne remained stiff and unyielding, the emotions she’d withheld when she’d run from the room locked up tightly inside her. “Two broken betrothals. Is that a record?”
Jane released her. “I don’t know. Is that what you want?”
“How can I marry him? Won’t he be arrested for his crimes?” Her anguish threatened to break free. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit her knuckle. Moving away from Jane, she worked to settle the hysteria bubbling inside her. “Two broken betrothals to two criminals. One thing is for certain, I think I’ve proven to be a bigger failure than you. Because, of course, you weren’t a failure at all, but a victim of someone else’s malfeasance. I, on the other hand, have attracted the worst sorts of gentlemen and not only encouraged them, but chose them.” Anne laughed without a trace of humor.
Jane started to move forward, but Anne shook her head, stopping her. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. If Mother and Father will have me, and I doubt they will, I’ll go to them. If not, perhaps I can find a position at a school or as a paid companion.”
“Anne. You don’t have to leave. You can stay here always. Come to Oakhaven with us. You and I can leave right away, if you want.”
Anne didn’t know what she wanted. At least not right now. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew one thing. “Would you mind just leaving me alone?”
Jane hesitated, but ultimately nodded. “I’ll check on you later.”
Anne didn’t respond, nor did she move until Jane left the room, closing the door behind her. Then her only movement was to wipe away the tear that fell down her cheek.
The need to follow Anne from the dining room nearly overwhelmed Rafe. But he didn’t move. Instead, he pivoted and fixed his rage on the reason for all of it: his uncle.
Mallory stood from the table, taking time to finish his glass of wine as he did so. “I suppose I should go,” he said to Colton.
Colton gritted his teeth. “That would be best.”
Turning to his son, Mallory set his wineglass down. “I’ll wait for you in the coach if you need a minute.” He moved around Lorcan and departed the dining room.
Rafe wasn’t going to let him go so easily.
Stalking after his uncle, Rafe caught up with him in the entry hall. “You won’t win,” he called after the man’s back.
Mallory slowly turned. “This isn’t a game, my boy. This is life. Unfortunately, you were dealt a bad hand—a
