Free The Widow's Secret by Sara Mitchell Page B

between coddling and caring, you know.” When she continued to starethrough him, he raised an eyebrow, then tried again. “Would you like me to read the letter?”
    â€œNo. You were born in New York, you attended university there. I just want to know what you remember about the Binghams. If you ever met the rest of their family, specifically Augustus Brock.”
    She wouldn’t want to know what he knew about the Brocks, or the Binghams, but the time was fast approaching when her lack of knowledge could cost her her life. “My family did not move in those circles,” he told her, choosing his words carefully. “I believe you know that my father was Rupert Bingham’s head bookkeeper?” She nodded. “Yet it wasn’t your father-in-law, but Augustus Brock who wrote you the letter inviting you to come to New York?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDid he say why?”
    After a protracted moment she nodded. “He said he regrets the way the family treated me. He wants to be…reconciled.”
    Every muscle in Micah’s body clenched in anticipation; his mind flatly rejected the prospect. “So you’re wondering why, after they ignored you all these years?” Moving slowly so he wouldn’t startle her, he sat forward on the edge of the seat. “Your own family died in a typhoid epidemic, you told me. But surely you have someone other than Katya to whom you could turn?”
    That garnered a quick look and a jerky headshake. Choosing his words, Micah continued speaking in a calm voice that belied his own perturbation. “Your husband’s family renounced you, so you renounced them by taking back your maiden name. You’ve lived here in Richmond for three years now, but I gather nobody here, including Katya, knows of your connection to the Bingham family, and you don’t want anyone to know.”
    â€œI’m the widow Tremayne,” she insisted, her hands twisting restlessly. “I don’t confide personal details to others. Katya is loyal, but this is not a burden she deserves, unless I decide to—” the breath seemed to stall in her throat “—unless I decide to accept his offer. I didn’t want to tell you, except you’ve been…kind. You even championed me, as it were, in front of Chief Hazen, which I know put you at risk. You already know who I am. What I…used to be, yet you went out of your way to protect me.” Her eyelids fluttered, and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. In another woman the motion would have been provocative; Jocelyn Tremayne only looked fragile, and achingly alone.
    Did he know her at all? Micah wondered. Would he ever?
    Not likely she would ever offer him the privilege, when he was honor-bound to expose her father-in-law and possibly her uncle-in-law as murdering scoundrels. Arrogant criminals wearing dinner jackets and diamond stickpins, who had funneled millions of counterfeit currency into the economy so they and their families could live in mansions.
    On the other hand, Micah felt equally honor-bound to do what he could to protect this vulnerable woman. After Chadwick died, she must have stumbled onto something incriminating, and run for her life.
    â€œI know who you married,” he corrected her. “And I know what has been happening in your life over this past month.” He couldn’t help himself. He reached out his hand, lightly brushing his fingers over her mottled knuckles, and felt the tingle of response all the way to the marrow of his bones. “I know you’re an independent woman, and a frightened woman. What I don’t know, Mrs. Tremayne, is whether or not you really want me to advise you on your choices, or if you’ve already made up your mind on how you plan to respond to your uncle’s letter.”
    She was staring at her hand, her lips half-parted; when she looked up, a fiery blush consumed her face. “Why did you do