“I want to lay you out on this desk”—Julius gripped her bottom and pulled her flush to his body—“lift up your skirts, inch by inch, and make you scream so loud the servants in the neighboring houses hear you. There are some benefits to our secret being out.”
“Uh huh. Sounds delightful.” She dragged the letter closer with the tip of one finger.
“Then you’re going to unbutton my falls, take my cock out, and take it so far—”
“Eureka!” Amanda pushed out of his arms and raced from the room. She left Julius standing, mouth agape, his hands opening and closing on nothing.
Reggie followed at her heels, barking at the chase. She reached the top of the stairs, out of breath, and hurried for her room. She pressed a hand to her side. All those months of remaining inactive indoors were catching up with her.
She went to her escritoire and pulled the top down. A short length of rope lay on the desk. “Sorry, Reggie. I’d forgotten it was here.” She tossed the toy to him, and he settled down before the fire, gnawing on the jute.
Only two of the slots held correspondence. One was reserved for letters from Liz. The other held the one missive she’d received directly from Lord Hanford. She pulled it out and hurried back down to the library.
Julius was fixed in the same spot. “What the bloody hell just happened?”
“I know who your blackmailer is.” Excitement made her voice shake. She brushed the other letters to the corner of the desk and arranged her letter and Julius’s blackmail one side by side. “Hanford wrote both of these.”
Julius placed his palms flat on either side of the letters and bent close. “Hanford wrote this to you? The condescending prick.”
She flapped a hand. “It didn’t matter. Ignore the words. Just look at the writing.”
He turned his head from letter to letter. Eyebrows lowered, he met her gaze. “I don’t see it. Hanford’s letter to you is a neat script. The blackmailer’s hand is loose and much larger.”
“Well, of course, he wouldn’t make it obvious.” She bent next to him and pointed at a line. “Do you see the ‘T’s in your letter. The cross line in almost all of them is a nice straight bar. But in the word ‘must’ here, and”—she flipped over the page—“the word ‘investigation’ here, the bars are angled upwards. Significantly so. And the little curly cue on the end is distinctive. It’s as though the author were trying to conceal his natural style of writing, but forgot in those two instances.”
Julius held the letter up to the oil lamp. “There’s a discrepancy with his ‘h’s, as well.” He picked up her letter. This time when he looked at her, he smiled. “It wouldn’t hold up in a court of law, but it’s enough for Liverpool to authorize a private search of his home. The noose draws tighter.”
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“I suspected his bumbling old man air was merely a ruse.” Folding up both letters, Julius tucked them into his coat pocket. “And Hanford was the only one who knew I was investigating Allan. He must have sent the order for him to be killed so the attorney couldn’t betray them.”
Amanda shivered. “And this is what you do? Spend your time chasing killers? Escaping from burning buildings?” How did he stand it? It was a good thing he didn’t want to marry. What wife could survive spending every night wondering if he would come home?
He rested a hand on her shoulder and rubbed his thumb along her collarbone. “Investigating crime rings and killers isn’t my usual task. The Crown uses me more as a recovery agent. I retrieve lost or stolen objects. Much less danger.”
“If you say so.”
Bending down, he kissed the hollow between her collarbones. “I say so.” He raised his head. “There’s no need to worry.”
Amanda didn’t believe that, but she knew Julius was as safe as he could be. He was smart and strong, and she would just have to trust him.
He cupped her cheek. “Now. We need to discuss our marriage.”
Her body jerked. Every time he said that word, it felt as though a thousand tiny needles jabbed into her heart. It would be so easy to take what she wanted. Pretend that circumstances had forced them both into it.
But she owed Julius too much. His freedom was the least she could give him.
Rolling up to her toes, she drew his lower lip into her mouth. She slid her hand down his flat belly and cupped the bulge behind his pants. “There’s nothing to talk about. Now come up to bed.” Grasping his hand, she turned to lead him upstairs.
He tugged on her hand, stopping her. “You can distract me for a while, but we will have that conversation.”
She nodded. She couldn’t avoid it forever. But at the end of that conversation, neither one of them would be happy. Julius would feel as though he’d betrayed his honor. And Amanda would have to end the affair. If they continued, he would eventually wear her down, leaving him miserable and her hopeless in their marriage.
After that conversation, there was no more future for them.
Chapter Twenty-One
Clutching her slippers to her stomach, Amanda pressed her ear against the seam of the double door. She shouldn’t be here, eavesdropping like a child, but ever since she’d heard that several of Julius’s friends had gathered in the library, she’d been desperate to know what was discussed. Were they plotting against Lord Hanford? Had the other men received blackmail notes? She didn’t think they’d invite her into their discussions, so she lurked. And listened.
