Chapter Thirty
“I apologize,” he said to Miss Trentham, when they were back in the hackney carriage. “I just . . . I couldn’t lie to him.”
“No.” She tilted her head to one side and surveyed him gravely. “You hold Sergeant Houghton in high esteem.”
Icarus nodded. He looked down at his gloved hands, and then back at her. “I told him about our charade,” he confessed. “Because, the thing is . . . he’s coming to Exeter with us. I’m going to take him as my partner—because I trust him, and because I can’t just leave him here!”
She studied him silently, and then gave a nod. “The sergeant won’t accept charity, but he’ll accept employment.”
“Yes,” Icarus said, relieved that she understood. And then he wondered at himself for doubting she would. Miss Trentham was astute and perceptive. She’d tak
