Robert Hurst leaned forward, his broad form blocking the light. “You haven’t answered; was he blackmailing you, too?”
The words were gently spoken and they filled Moira’s heart with such longing that tears actually filled her eyes. If only she could tell him, explain things, lean on him, trust him. But she already knew the cost of trust.
She pulled her wrist from his grasp, turning away so she could quickly swipe the tears from her eyes. “Don’t be foolish. What could that horrible man possibly hold over my head? I don’t know anything about your precious onyx box. If I did, do you think I’d be here?”
A flicker of something crossed Robert's face – was it disappointment? He shrugged. “You must have thought it might be here, or you’d have never come.”
“I'm sorry, Mr. Hurst, but I haven't the faintest idea what you’re talking about. George Aniston hired me to fetch something for him and I did it. I had no idea he was blackmailing your sister-in-law. I never asked and he never mentioned it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
His face hardened. “No, it’s not fine, Mrs. MacJames.” He almost spit the name.
“You don’t like it? MacJames is a time honored name that—“
“—is completely false. I know your real name, which you've apparently forgotten. Your real name is Moira MacAllister—” He paused and then added in a voice sharp with unspoken anger. “—Hurst.”