“I’m surprised I still have a right to any of it,” he admitted.
“You don’t. I am being incredibly generous just by allowing you to see and smell this delicious repast whilst I consume it right in front of you.”
“You are all that is kindhearted and benevolent,” he murmured.
“Oh, go on then, Mr. Logical Lenox. I’ll allow you to share my spoils just this once.”
“Stephen,” he corrected her. “Anyone fearless enough to upbraid me for failure to ravish her shall earn the right to call me by my given name.”
“Elizabeth,” she answered, then waggled her brows. “What other liberties have I earned?”
“Half of the marmalade,” he responded. “And only half. I’m watching you.”
She broke off a piece of bread and dipped it into the marmalade with exaggerated daintiness. The twinkle in her eye indicated the next time he looked away, the rest might disappear altogether.
“If only the countess had left her clues somewhere obvious,” she said with a wistful expression. “Like a bright yellow box, helpfully painted with big black letters:WILLANDTESTAMENTINSIDE.”
“That would certainly have been more convenient,” he agreed. “Then again, deuced little about this experience has been particularly convenient, from the hidden will to the missing deed. A miracle would be nice, but one cannot summon documents out of thin air.”
She lowered her apple slice. “Maybe we can.”
He raised his brows. “You’re a soldier…anda sorcerer?”
“My sister Marjorie essentially is. A sorcerer, I mean. She and her husband, Adrian, can forge anything under the sun. They can create copies of wills and deeds in their sleep. Documents indistinguishable from the originals.”
“I’m sure they would be, if wehadoriginals to copy. We don’t know what other items might have been mentioned in that will. Are you willing to inadvertently cut other persons out of their legal inheritance?”
She sighed. “No, of course not. Ugh. We must find the real will.”
He piled cheese on bread and added a dollop of marmalade. “Can your sister really forge anything?”
Elizabeth smiled fondly. “Anything and everything. Books, portraits, sovereigns… She met Adrian when he was under the thumb of a corrupt moneylender. Adrian is an artist, too. His specialties are sculpture and pottery, whereas Marjorie’s specialties are pen and paint.”
“Have they considered producing original works?” he asked politely.
“They produce loads of original work,” she protested. “They are both respected and established artists in their own right. They have a studio where they tutor students and regularly host art exhibitions in their public salon. In certain circles, Marjorie is more famous for her paintings than she is infamous for being a Wynchester.”
“Fameandinfamy.” He leaned back in his chair, impressed. “Is there anything the Wynchesters cannot do?”
“Individually? Quite a bit,” she answered honestly. “But together, as a team? We’re unstoppable.”
The words were positive and uplifting, but her lively expression had turned somber.
He put down his cheese. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” She dipped her bread in marmalade and sighed. “Oh, all right, it’s this mission. The Wynchestersareundefeatable as a team. But they’re not here.Iam.”
“Where are the rest of your siblings?”
“Handling other cases. Our notoriety has increased over the past few years, and we now have more clients than we can attend to as a group.”
“So, you’re not the only one who’s tackling missions alone. The others might have the same worries you do.”
Elizabeth looked startled. “I suppose that’s true. It hadn’t occurred to me. I’m so used to thinking of the others as bold and unconquerable.”
“I would be surprised if anyone doubted that you embody those very same qualities yourself.”
She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “And to think, so far you’ve only seen me at myleastswashbuckling.”
