“You have interesting connections,” Devons pointed out, not allowing him to play the part of a befuddled gentleman.
Thomas had to stop himself from laughing. He’d known Hawley for a long time. He played the part of the bumbling historian well, but the man was more complex than that. Clearly, Devons knew that as well.
Hawley didn’t deny Devons’ words but said, “I’m not sure I can be of help. Perhaps it is truly just a love-sick admirer.”
Thomas confessed, “My wife took a tumble down a staircase at the Duke of Lusby’s townhouse. We believe she may have been pushed.”
Devons frowned. “I will have my investigators increase their efforts.”
Hawley shook his head. “I hope that isn’t the case, Easton. Please let me know if I can be of service.”
Thomas nodded, grateful but unsure if Hawley could be helpful. He needed to find C, whoever it was. He hoped the fall was an accident, but he wouldn’t allow his fame to be something that harmed Lisbeth.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lisbeth walked intoone of the smaller exhibit rooms, where a gaggle of young ladies were perusing the artifacts on display. She’d only come in to review the inventory. They kept glancing her way and whispering.
Eventually, she said, “Are you enjoying the exhibit?”
The girls grinned, and one asked, “Are you Thomas Easton’s wife?”
Unease filled her, but she refused to let it consume her. “Yes, I am.”
They all giggled, and one of the ladies said, “You are so lucky.”
The one woman who appeared older frowned. “Lady Chloe, that is inappropriate.”
The young woman sulked. “Georgina, we are only having fun.”
Lisbeth couldn’t fathom that a young woman like this could be a danger. Perhaps the fall was truly an accident, and the letters were nothing but dramatic words from a young girl.
The woman, closer to her age, said, “I’m sorry. They are all enthralled with Mr. Easton’s serials.”
One of the girls giggled and said, “We visited your home and convinced your husband to sign our serials.”
Lisbeth smiled at the girl’s flushed cheeks. No, these young women weren’t threats; they were excited about her husband, but not dangerous. She smiled. “My husband will be givingmonthly lectures starting next month. You should attend. There is a small fee, but you can learn about his adventures and antiquities.”
They all squealed, making Lisbeth and their chaperone cringe. They shook their heads at each other. Feeling a little more at ease, Lisbeth added, “He will also be at the reveal of the ending of the epic that will be shown in our grand exhibition room.”
Lady Chloe turned to her chaperone. “We must go.”
The slightly older woman said, “We shall.”
Liseth smiled at them all. “I need to depart, but I hope to see you at the event for the epic in a few days.”
They all nodded excitedly, except for the lady, Georgina, who Lisbeth suspected had the duty of escorting them about—poor woman.
What they didn’t know was that the famous Thomas Easton was actually upstairs waiting on her with the rest of the board members of the Historical Society of Female Curators. If she were an awful wife, she would have ushered him down to talk with all his adoring admirers, but Thomas had been on edge about anything related to his fame since her fall.
In some ways, Lisbeth wished she hadn’t told him her suspicions about falling at the Sinclair ball. The more time that passed, the more she wondered if she imagined hands on her back.
She entered the office to find Rose, Esme, and Thomas peering at documents, while Diana, Sarah, and Addie sat at their desks.
Thomas looked up at her, his eyes roamed hungrily over her. Her body hummed, and she flushed as the desire in her flared. He’d only just left her bed hours ago, but her need for him never seemed to subside. His lips tilted up at the corner as if he could read all the wicked thoughts in her mind.
The last few days, even with the fall, had been wonderful. Lisbeth felt as if they were finding their way. They were becoming a family—her, Thomas, Alice, and Jeremy.
She grinned at him. “Some of your admirers are downstairs.”
