“Ihardly think listing your positive attributes is the best use of our time.” Elizabeth’s voice came out more husky than was comfortable. Every nerve inside her body screamed yes to Langdon’s flirtatious question. Elizabeth squashed the unwelcome sensation. A few moments ago, he was berating her in a less than pleasant manner. What a contradiction he was: a man with many layers. If she knew him for a lifetime, would she uncover them all?
“What a pity.” Low laughter rumbled from him. He was standing close enough for the heat of his body to infiltrate her thin dress.
Elizabeth tried not to inhale the scent of sandalwood and man that invaded senses already heightened by the night's illicit activities. She resisted the urge to rest back against him and lay her head on his shoulder. He had been rather abrupt with her, and by all rights she should be in a snit over his earlier callousness. Should be. But she found herself drawn to him regardless of his surliness. He kept her on her toes, and she enjoyed their back and forth no matter how contentious. “I need a few more minutes to look.”
She flipped through the book and scanned the contents for anything out of the ordinary. It was hard to concentrate with him that close, however. “Perhaps you could look in the other drawers while I am reviewing these.”
It was both a relief and a disappointment when he moved away.
She had to focus on the task at hand; else the entire endeavor would be for naught. Since she was old enough to read, she could absorb information quicker than most people could read a single sentence. It was a secret she kept close to her chest. In the eyes of society, intelligence was not a valued trait in a woman. She swallowed a rush of bitterness over the unfairness of it all. She paused on several pages, each more mundane than the last, before placing the first book on the desk and moving to the next one. “There is nothing out of the ordinary here. There has to be something else. In his book in the country, he mentioned investing with the Zander Trading Company, which isn’t possible, so...” She had been shocked to find mention of her alias in Randell’s correspondence and was still trying to puzzle together why he linked his name with Zander’s to begin with.
“Why is that impossible?” he asked, skirting the desk, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. “Many gentlemen invest in the company.”
“Yes, true. It just seemed odd to have combined his legitimate investments into his criminal ones.” Her stomach dropped at the slip of the tongue. She hadn’t wanted to share that bit of information with him until she could get more clarity. If there was any investigation into Mr. Zander himself, her entire secret could be exposed.
“Unless they weren’t legitimate.” He was walking around the room, his head back as he inspected the paintings on the paneled walls. The moonlight glistened off his fair hair, but his face was in the shadows.
“Or they are and I assumed wrong,” she said, purposely being ambiguous to his line of reasoning. Best to distract him from such dangerous questions. “There is nothing in these ledgers that looks out of place.”
“Perhaps he has more information in his safe.”
“There is a safe?” Elizabeth rushed after Langdon, resolute to be with him every step of the way. She hadn’t even thought to look for one in Randell’s country residence. His study in the country had yielded a hint of an income increase that matched the same timeline as the smuggler’s overt aggression, but she needed more proof. Vexation rained down on her and she exhaled. Worrying about past mistakes wouldn’t help the present situation.
“Yes, there is a safe. The first rule of reconnoitering is being aware of your surroundings.” He went to the long wall where a rather plain oak cabinet sat. Removing the globe, he placed it on a nearby table.
“I am aware of my surroundings, thank you very much.” She was aware, very aware of him, too.
He lifted the lid to reveal the safe. “It looks new,” he said, staring down his nose at it. The muscles of his jaw flexed, his palm moving to the back of his neck. The silence lengthened as he studied it for a long moment before releasing a telling sigh.
“Well?” she asked, unable to stand the strain any longer.
Shoulders back, he put the lid back into place. “Well what?”
“Wait. Aren’t you going to open it?” If Randell had gone to the trouble of procuring a safe, surely the documents she needed rested inside. “It could contain some vital clues.”
He turned to look at her, the scowl back in play. Fingers raking through his hair, he clutched at the strands. “How do you propose I do that?”
Arms crossed, she met his glower with one of her own. He had drifted from upset to humor and back to anger. His moods perplexed her. One minute he was charming and the next churlish. And men called women capricious. “You, yourself, bragged you possess many skills. Why can’t you open this one?”
“Because it is a Bramah lock, and as yet it has proved unpickable.” He released his grip on his hair, leaving the blond strains disheveled. Huffing out a breath, he rubbed his hands across his forehead. “Twenty-some years ago Bramah challenged anyone to pick this lock. To date, no one has.”
“Have you tried?” she asked, getting a better inkling of what was going on with him. Like herself, he hated to admit defeat. His ill humor was tied to pride. She understood the emotion well enough for she suffered from it herself.
The flush that crept up his cheeks confirmed her theory.
“How disappointing for you.” Finger tapping against her chin, she tried to keep the smile from her mouth. He wouldn’t appreciate her humor at his expense.
“And half of the world’s finest locksmiths who could not open the bloody thing!” he said through gritted teeth.
“You need not be testy about it.” She returned to the desk, willing the grin back. The earlier excitement was turning into disappointment in more ways than one. It was apparent he wished her gone. The future of too many people was at stake to allow her to drift off course. While she appreciated his help, he did not know how much she knew. There would come a time she’d be forced to reveal all, but now was not that time.
“What I am is irritated, Mrs. Adare.”
Elizabeth placed the estate books back into the drawers where they came from. “Losing your temper won’t help matters. You have been in a snit since we began this endeavor. While I understand you are frustrated, taking your temper out on me is unacceptable.”
Langdon replaced the globe, the object landing on the table with a softthunk. Narrowed eyes met hers, but the self-deprecating twist to his lips ruined the effect. “I was not in a temper until you pushed your way through that door. This was my party, and I did not invite you.”
“Correction, this was my party, and you asked to take part, but that’s not relevant.” The clock on the mantle chimed the hour. Her hand flew to her chest at the unexpected sound, heart leaping into her throat. The clock only reminded her of the precariousness of their situation. Beyond the four walls, people were dancing and making merry, all unaware of the blood on Randell’s hands. “I suggest we look for the code to the safe and continue this conversation at a later date,” she said, biting at the tip of her glove.
