Without breaking eye contact, he reached over for a piece of bread and took a large bite, chewing with exaggerated movements for her benefit. He meant to tease her for being so managing but was surprised to find that he was hungry. He polished off the roll. Picking up another, he layered it with a piece of ham this time. Hart caught Lucy’s smile as she lowered her gaze to the page once again.
He hadn’t much of an appetite for anything except perhaps liquor the past year. His apathy for the business of living had kept him in a stasis of sorts. He glanced at the woman across the table from him. Lucy’s impertinent highhandedness was just what he needed to pull him back to the land of the living.
They worked in silence for a while, sorting the pile of letters into two; letters with the stamp and those without. Hart began to read through the ones that had the stamp. Some were just newsy, filled with the type of conversation in which old friends catch up. Some were more purposeful, letters arguing about the merits of various bills up for a vote in the Lords. All were from men Hart knew to be friends of his father. Names he recognized, men he knew.
He picked up another letter. It was an ardent note about a bill to support pensions for widows of servicemen. Hart traced the large loopy signature of Lord Galey. Galey had been a good man. One who had tried to follow his conscience and paid the price with his life. How had their meeting been discovered? Hart frowned down at the symbol stamped next to Galey’s signature. The how didn’t matter as much as the why. Why had his father and brother been murdered? He must know the truth. He had already paid such a heavy price; it couldn’t be for naught.
“These are all from the same six men,” Lucy commented.
“Yes, these were my father’s friends. But none of these men would want to kill him. They were all like family, almost like uncles to me and my brother.”
“But what of the unsigned letter, the angry one that contained the threats of retribution if he pulled out of the deal? Logically, because of the stamp, it should be one of these men.”
Hart nodded. “But which one? And what deal? It had to be about money. Only money could kill a friendship.”
“I agree. I would suggest looking through your ledgers from that year or the previous one. See what, if anything, your father had invested in outside of the normal running of the estate.” Lucy stood. “Well, I must go. I should have been home an hour ago to accompany Trudy to the milliner shop. She will be wondering where I am.”
Hart rose from his seat as well. “Fredrick will accompany you home.”
“Not necess—”
He held up a hand. “It is necessary for my peace of mind. You shouldn’t be out walking alone.”
“What I was going to say is that it is not necessary because my maid, Helen, is here. Please have Townson fetch her from the kitchen. I am perfectly aware that I cannot walk around London unchaperoned.” Lucy crossed her arms across her chest and shot him a glare.
The movement pushed her breasts up, stretching the fabric of her dress tight across them. Hart watched them rise and fall as she let out a disgruntled huff. What was the matter with him? He should not be thinking about her breasts or the smooth skin of her throat, or her full pink lips.
He cleared his throat. “Um, yes, of course.” He crossed the room to ring the bell.
The light floral smell of her perfume filled his nose as he passed her. Her presence filled his senses, bringing them back to life. He wanted to pull her against him and feel the curves of her figure, burying his nose in her hair, find out the taste of her skin. Good Lord, it had been far too long since he had a woman if just being in the proximity of one had him lusting inappropriately over Lucy.
The door opened. Townson appeared in the threshold. “How can I be of help, Your Grace?”
“Can you send Helen upstairs please. Miss Middleton is ready to leave.”
“Certainly. Are you finished with the food tray?”
“No, he is still eating.” Lucy interjected. She turned to him and winked. “Now be a good boy and finish it all.”
Her laughter filled the room as he sputtered.Brat.Before he could say anything at all she sashayed out the room.
Chapter Six
“You told himwhat?” exclaimed Violet.
“Vi, really!” Lucy grabbed her best friend’s arm and pulled her further down the hall, so they weren’t standing right outside the ladies’ retiring room. They slowly walked back toward the ballroom. “It was the first name that came to mind. You have been talking about how handsome Gregory Murdoch is nonstop.”
“Well, he is. And whenever he comes to the house to meet with my father, he always has a charming smile and a smoldering look to send my way.” Violet sighed. “A terrible flirt, that one. Don’t worry, I just like looking at him.” They crossed the marble tiles of the hall, their heeled slippers echoing in the two-story foyer. “I can’t believe the duke is back in town.”
“Yes, and he is changed. Brooding is an understatement. I just didn’t want him to think that I have spent the past year pining for him.”
Vi sent her a sympathetic look from under her sooty lashes. “I understand. He doesn’t need to know that you have been longing for his affections. What will you say when Mr. Murdoch never comes to propose though?”
“Bah, Hart won’t be around that long. And he doesn’t socialize with solicitors.”
They entered back into the din of the ballroom. The ball was the typical crush. A string quartet played in one corner, and the painted floor was packed with dancers. Potted trees softened the edges of the room and framed conversation areas. The back doors were open to let the night air in, but instead of cooling off the interior of the ballroom, it simply allowed couples to sneak out into the gardens. Lucy had learned her lesson. She would stay safely inside and with her friend.
Violet opened a fan painted with bright pink flowers. “I’m sure your right. Oh look, there is Addie.”
