She needed to change the subject before she dug herself any further into this lie. Although it hardly mattered, Hart would never meet her fake beau. They certainly did not run into the same circles, not that Hart ran in any circles these days. She glanced sideways at his profile. His brow was wrinkled as he frowned down at the ground.
“You must know Trudy has plans for you as well. She is most certainly scheming to have you matched now that you are back.”
“She can scheme all she wants. It won’t do her any good. I’m not fit to be a husband to anyone right now. That is not why I am in town.”
Lucy let out a long breath and switched her parasol to the left side as they made a turn, and the sun changed positions. “Yes, that’s right, your investigation. How is that going?”
“Frustratingly slow. At Belstoke, I found a letter in my father’s desk that contained several explicit threats. Apparently, he was going pull from a business deal. But the specifics of the deal were not spelled out in this letter. The threats of retribution were clear, though. This week, I have been going through ledgers and correspondence from the year the letter was dated to see if I can find what business ventures my father was invested in. I haven’t found anything as of yet. But I am barely halfway through, and unfortunately, my left eye tires quickly without the help of its pair.”
The words were out of her mouth before she could think it through. “I could help if you tell me what you’re looking for specifically.”
“You don’t have to offer.”
“I know.” She stopped so she could face him.
His posture was again stiff. His expression closed off.
“Why won’t you accept help?”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“Yes, that’s just it. I pity the rich, handsome duke.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine, forget I offered.” She strode away down the path.
Why did she continue to try and help him? She should leave him to his own devices. He was a grown man who wished to be left alone. Why couldn’t she get that through her thick skull?
His gruff voice called out. “Lucy, stop. Yes, I can use your help.”
She turned.
His hand flexed around the gold top of his walking stick. “I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that spread. “All right then, first food. Then we will get to investigating.”
Chapter Five
“This is theletter that I found.” Hart slid it across the desk.
Lucy nibbled at a slice of cheese as she peered down at the letter. He watched her take tiny bites, savoring the salty parmesan. She was engrossed in the words on the page as she next reached for a strawberry from the platter of food that sat on the desk between them. He couldn’t pull his gaze away from her lips as she took a bite of the ripe red fruit. A tiny dribble of juice escaped, and her tongue darted out to lick it from the corner of her mouth. He bit back a groan. His groin tightened. God, it had been too long since he had a woman’s lips around him. He tore his gaze from her mouth and tried to wait patiently while she finished reading the letter.
Lucy’s head popped up. “What’s this?” She tapped her finger on the bottom corner of the page. “I don’t recognize this symbol.”
“I don’t know. It is the same symbol from the wax stamp that was among my father’s correspondence kit.” He reached into the top drawer to his right and pulled out the gold-plated stamp. Flipping it to show Lucy the seal. “It’s not something I recognize, and it’s not the ducal seal.” He laid his right hand out so she could see the crest on the top of his ring.
Lucy’s brow furrowed. One finger reached out and drew a path along the scars on the back of his hand, light as a feather, to the cuff of his shirt. “Do they still hurt?”
He was too startled by the soft touch to pull back.
He shook his head. “No, not there. But the ones along my shoulder and upper arm have tightened the skin so much that when I move it certain ways, it hurts quite a bit. I fear my range of motion in the right arm will never be the same.”
She pulled her hand back and picked up the seal from the table. “It must mean something if your father also used the same symbol to stamp letters. I think we should start by sorting that large pile of correspondence by just the ones that have this stamp.”
Glad that she was not going to keep asking about his injuries, Hart pulled his hand back, then took a section of the stack next to him and handed her a portion. Lucy was right; the stamp had to mean something. Why hadn’t he thought to look for more letters with it? He delved into the stack and began flipping through to look for the mysterious symbol. There were many letters stamped in the bottom right corner with the stamp, and the pile between him and Lucy began to grow.
“Eat something,” Lucy said.
He glanced up.
She raised her head from the page she was reading. “Eat something. Don’t think I’m not paying attention.”
