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mouth. Everything she had spent the last ten years trying to forget came crashing back to her. She had to determine a way out of this mess.
    “Does he know who I am?”
    “Yes,” Sophie whispered. “I don’t believe he means to harm you, Victoria. I think he wishes to apologize for his actions.”
    “What do you know about this?”
    Sophie sat back, and said, “I believe you and this man had a brief relationship. After which, you somehow came into some money, changed your name, and opened your home to several orphans.”
    “That is all you know?” Victoria asked.
    “I know your real name was Anne Smith. And I know who the man was who treated you so poorly.”
    Victoria stared at the floral design on the rug. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
    “You don’t remember?”
    “He only told me his name was Tony. And he was different then. Younger. His hair was longer and lighter. His nature softer and sweeter—”
    “Somerton sweet?” Sophie asked incredulously. “In my nine years of knowing him, I would never have called him that. He is one of the hardest men I have ever met. He seems to care about nothing and will do whatever it takes to get what he wants or needs.”
    Sophie’s perception of Somerton didn’t match up with the young man Victoria remembered. He had been the only gentleman who actually said hello to her when she sold oranges. He would smile at her and not in a leering manner. He could not have changed so drastically.
    “What do I do now, Sophie?”
    “You will return home, and hopefully, if he comes to pay you a visit, it will be to apologize for his actions. Accept his apology and he will leave.”
    “He can expose me for the fraud I am,” Victoria cried. “Everything I have spent the last ten years building will be for naught. If Avis, Jennette, or Elizabeth discovers the truth, they will hate me for lying to them.”
    “Your friends will not desert you. But if you are that concerned, then you must make that part of the apology. You only accept it as long as he promises to keep your identity secret.”
    Victoria nodded. Deep inside her was still the fearless girl she had been. The girl who at nine could pick a man’s pocket without being caught. She had known every street and alley in Whitechapel. She only hoped her last ten years of playing the timid mouse hadn’t destroyed her.
     

    “I am finished with this business,” Anthony said, glancing around the room at White’s. To anyone who might see them, they appeared to be two friends settling in for a drink.
    Roger Ainsworth sat back against his chair and smiled. “You do not mean it. You love the excitement of it all. Travel and intrigue, you live for it.”
    Anthony raked his fingers through his short hair. He’d considered his mother’s words with extreme care for the past day and she was right. In order to get his respectability back, he had to stop performing jobs for Ainsworth. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I am tired, Ainsworth. I’ve been doing this for almost ten years. I have caught your spies and other assorted criminals. I am done.”
    “You cannot be.”
    Anthony raised an eyebrow at him in question. “I can.”
    “Do not make me beg, Somerton. There is no one else I can turn to for this. It’s quite a simple case and you do not even have to leave the country.”
    “No.”
    “Please, hear me out before you say no again.” Ainsworth reached for the bottle of whisky and poured two glasses.
    “Drinking on the job?”
    “If that is what I must do to get you to agree, the prince won’t mind.”
    Anthony wondered how much information the prince even had of these jobs.
    “All I need you to do is collect a missive. Marcus Hardy will be at Lord Farleigh’s house party starting on the twelfth of December. My source said Hardy will be given information regarding a plot to kill the prince regent. All you have to do is collect the note and bring it to me as quickly as possible.”
    “Farleigh?”
    Ainsworth nodded