She nodded. “Perhaps I should invite him for tea?”
“No. I do not wish to place you in danger. Not if I can help it.”
Selina nodded. Whatever came next, she knew she could face it with James by her side. The thought both thrilled and terrified her, a reminder of the dangerous game they were playing—not just with their lives, but with their hearts as well.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the worn leather volumes on the side table. She lifted them,feeling the weight of secrets and potential revelations within their pages. With a deep breath, she extended the books to James, her hazel eyes meeting his warm, blue gaze.
"These are Nile's ledgers," she said softly. "I... I trust you with them, James. Perhaps your keen eye will uncover something I have missed."
He accepted the books, his hands brushing against hers for a fleeting moment. The touch sent a jolt of longing through Selina's body, and she quickly withdrew, her cheeks flushed.
"Thank you, Selina," he murmured, his gaze never leaving her face. "Your trust means more than you know."
She nodded, her heart racing. "I should inform Charlotte and Beatrice of your continued presence. They will be wondering..."
"Of course," James replied, already opening the first ledger. "I will begin my examination while you tend to your guests."
As Selina turned to leave the drawing room, she cast one last glance at James. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his fingers tracing the lines of text with careful precision. The sight of him so engrossed in her late husband's affairs stirred aconfusing mix of emotions within her—sorrow, anger, and a tenderness she fought against welcoming.
Shaking off the unwelcome feelings, Selina made her way to the parlor, where she knew her friends would be waiting. As expected, Charlotte and Beatrice wore matching expressions of concern. Both abandoning their conversation to look up at her with worried gazes.
"Selina, darling," Charlotte began, her voice soft and worried. "Is everything alright? Lord Blackwood has been here for quite some time."
Bea, ever the more direct of the two, arched an eyebrow. "Indeed. One might wonder at the propriety of such a lengthy private audience."
Selina took a steadying breath. "I assure you both, there is no cause for alarm. Lord Blackwood is... assisting me with some matters related to Nile's death."
"But you suspect him of being responsible for Nile’s death," Bea said, her green eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"I may have been too hasty in pointing my finger at Jame…Lord Blackwood. He has unique insights that I find helpful," Selina replied, trying to keep her voice even. "I appreciate your concern, truly. But I promise you, all is well."
Charlotte and Beatrice exchanged glances, their reluctance clear. Finally, Charlotte spoke, "If you are certain, Selina. But do be careful."
"Indeed," Bea agreed, though her tone suggested otherwise. "Do be careful, darling. Men like Lord Blackwood can be... dangerous. Even if he is not the one responsible for Nile’s death."
Selina nodded, suppressing a shiver at Bea's words. If only they knew the half of it. But of course she would not tell them about how he had kissed her or how she longed for his touch. Leastwise, not right now. She offered them what she hoped was a reassuring smile and said, "Thank you both. Now, if you will excuse me..."
After her friends said their farewells and departed, Selina leaned against the parlor door, her mind racing. The weight of her husband’s death and her growing feelings for James—threatened to overwhelm her. With a deep breath, she steeled herself and returned to the drawing room, where James awaited with whatever truths the ledgers might reveal.
Selina entered the drawing room to find James hunched over the ledgers, his brow furrowed inconcentration. The late afternoon light cast dramatic shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline. She hesitated, struck by the intensity of his focus.
"Have you found anything of note?" she inquired.
James looked up, his sharp blue eyes meeting hers. "Indeed, I have. And I am afraid it is rather... unsettling."
Selina's heart quickened as she moved closer, the rustle of her silk gown loud in the tense silence. "Tell me," she urged.
He ran a hand through his dark hair. "There is a record here of a substantial business deal between Lord Hollyfield and Lord Hawthorne. It appears Hawthorne owes—or rather, owed—Lord Hollyfield a significant sum."
Selina's breath caught in her throat. "How significant?"
"Enough to ruin a man, even one of Hawthorne's standing," James replied grimly.
The implications of this revelation crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her legs suddenly weak, she sank into the nearest chair, her mind reeling. "Good God," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Lord Hawthorne... he visited so often after Nile's death. He seemed so concerned, so... genuine."
James's expression softened with sympathy. "The most dangerous among us often wear the most convincing disguise."
Selina clenched her hands in her lap, her knuckles white against the deep burgundy of her gown. "To think, all this time... he might have had a hand in Nile's death. And I welcomed him into my home, accepted his condolences! Treated him as a dear friend."
