Page 40 of His Improper Lady

Desiree’s stomach quivered. She hated the look of suspicion in his eyes, the iron in his voice. But how could she tell him the truth? Tom already thought she was a liar, and even though he had been surprisingly open to her explanation of her skill at “reading” people, she felt sure a full revelation of her powers would convince him that she was either mad or a fraud. Or both. “I hired you now because the opportunity arose. I found that ring in your office. I finally had some idea of who he was.”

“Even before you found the ring, you wanted to know who he was badly enough you agreed to work for a man you say you despise, to put yourself in jeopardy by going back to thieving, because you wanted to find out his name. Then you threw in your lot with another man you disliked.” He jerked his thumb toward his own chest. “All because you wanted so much to find your father.”

“Yes. What does that matter?”

“What’s your goal? You know his name, so you’ve satisfied your curiosity. You already knew that he ran off with your mother years ago. It seems unlikely to believe that you will have some happy reunion with the man. And you maintain that you aren’t trying to squeeze money from his family. You just ‘want to know.’ You’re hiding something. I can ‘read’ people well enough to tell that. What is it that you want to know? And why now? Why is it so incredibly, urgently important now?”

“Because something is wrong!” Desiree shot back, feeling pushed to the brink.

Tom stared at her blankly. “What do you mean? What’s wrong? What does it have to do with your father?”

“I don’t know! If I knew, maybe I’d know what to do.” Desiree glared balefully back at him. “You won’t believe me any more than you believe anything else I say.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve been having this feeling.” How was she to explain this? How could she make him understand?

“This feeling.” His voice rang with skepticism. “What, like the thing you sense with people, that they have integrity or not?”

“A bit. But I don’t see anything. This is something inside of me, so it’s not visible, even to my inner eye. It is more abstract, but somehow also stronger, more urgent than the warnings that the light and dark images give me.” It was as if an alarm went off inside her that said that something was about to rip apart her internal life. Destroy her emotions. Corrupt her own constancy and solidity. But just the idea of saying all that to someone as calm and logical as Tom made Desiree want to run and hide. “Have you ever walked into a room and before you could even pinpoint what was missing, you knew something was different?”

“Of course,” Tom answered. “Like when you broke into the office and I was sure something was wrong in the building, but couldn’t say why.”

“Exactly. But it’s much stronger—I can feel little fissures in my inner world, as though the ‘wrongness’ is inside me, squirming in my stomach like an eel. A week or two ago, I began feeling twitchy and anxious, as if there was something I should be doing. I kept thinking about my parents, my father, and I knew that uneasy feeling was connected to him. I didn’t know what to make of it or what I could do. Then Falk offered to tell me my father’s name. And I knew it was meant to be. That I was supposed to find him. That it was important.”

“What do you think is going to happen if you discover his name? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know! I just know that I need to find out! There’s danger waiting.”

“How can you be so sure? Have you ever had this feeling before? Did it come true?”

“Yes!” Desiree cried out. “The last time I felt like this was right before Bruna Upton burned to death!”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TOM’S STOMACH DROPPED, an atavistic feeling of dread filling him. Was Desiree in danger? “Are you serious? You’re sure it’s the same?”

“Do you believe me?” Desiree looked surprised.

“I’m...not sure.” Tom had seen too many things with the Morelands over the years to discount premonitions of danger. Which also raised the question, again, of whether this portent of doom was proof Desiree really was a Moreland. But that was something he would worry about later. Right now, there were more immediate concerns. “I think we’d be foolish not to consider the possibility. That’s the only time it’s happened?”

“They tell me that I was upset before Brock fell from a rope and injured his leg, but I was only two, and I don’t remember it. I have—well, Brock calls it a gift, but I’m not sure what it is. I can sense when something is wrong. Dangerous or damaged or odd. It was helpful when Wells and I were thieving. I could tell if, say, there was a dog or a guard that we hadn’t expected or if something was wrong with our equipment. I felt it last night when I saw that carriage. Sometimes I can see a deep darkness, a sort of void, where there’s danger. Other times, it’s just a little shock of awareness inside. Like goose bumps. Or the way you feel when music hits a discordant note.”

“And you’re feeling that same thing about finding your father?”

“No. This isn’t just a bit of prickling or tingling. It’s a knot in my chest, a nervous, restless feeling. A compulsion to do something. But I don’t know what to do.” Desiree threw her hands up in frustration. “It’s not a premonition, just a vague, pervasive feeling. It’s how I felt before Bruna died. I was young, only six, and I had no idea what it meant. I just felt frightened. Then one day a lantern turned over and the tent caught fire, and the only mother I’d known was dead. I realized that was the reason I had felt that way. I should have told someone. Warned Bruna.”

Something in Tom’s chest twisted at the sorrow on her face. “You couldn’t have known. You’re not a seer. That’s far too heavy a burden to place on a child. Even an adult wouldn’t have known what was going to happen.”

“Yes, but...” Desiree set her jaw, her eyes bright. “I know now. And I’m not going to make that mistake this time. I have to act.”

He nodded. There was going to be no holding Desiree back.

“It’s been growing for a month now,” Desiree went on. “I hardly noticed it at first. I thought I was just bored. But it grew stronger, and then when Falk offered me that job, I knew. I can’t explain why, but I was certain that the urgency in me was to find my father, to learn who I really was. I’d always wanted to know about the rest of our family, but it wasn’t the same sort of compelling need.”

“Do you feel it more at certain times, certain places? Certain people? Was it stronger when you were talking to Falk?”

“No. At least, I haven’t noticed that. But it grows more urgent all the time. I’m more certain that finding my father is important. But...” She broke off and looked away.