“I don’t have time for games, Langdon.” Just like in Randell’s study, she flipped through the papers in record speed. Her bottom lip captured between her teeth, she tried to open the second drawer. “It is locked. Can you open it?”
“This is no game, Mrs. Adare.” He wanted to say no on principle, but he pulled out his tools and did as she asked. The drawer slid open to expose a leather pouch full of invoices. She pulled the bundle out, her color high from her activities.
Randell had sent invoices to Pike. Each one would have to be studied and the merchant investigated. It would be tedious work but necessary. She fanned the invoices out on the floor and hunched over the documents. He glanced over her shoulder, curious despite his fury with her.
One name jumped off the page. Zander. “These are the invoices.”
“No, they’re not.” Elizabeth shoved the invoices back into the pouch, a notable wobble in her voice. “Well, they are invoices, just not Randall’s invoices. They belong to a man named Jones; a very common name.”
By the way she averted her gaze, she was hiding something. Ever since she had brought Zander to his attention, she had tried to sweep his alleged involvement under the rug. Perhaps it would behoove him to investigate Mrs. Adare and her ties to the elusive Mr. Zander. Langdon had been fooled by a pretty face before.
A knot formed in his throat at the notion that she would deceive him in such a manner, which added to his overall unrest. He needed to clarify things in his head before they were forced to leave the office. If she was hiding something, he would ferret it out, no matter how much it stung. “I would like to see them.”
Elizabeth snapped her head up. Panic tightened the skin over her cheekbones before she schooled her features. She handed him the pouch, her chest rising and falling with greater speed. His own heart raced at what he would discover.
Farnsworth’s loud cough sounded. Langdon whipped his head around, relived to see that Farnsworth still kept Pike out of the room.
“Don’t forget to lock the drawer when you are done. I need to search the filing cabinets,” she whispered.
He flipped the top few invoices, inspecting the spidery print. None of them listed Zander’s name but the third one in the stack referenced a man named Jones. The strain in his chest loosened a bit and he put the invoices back inside the leather.
Another cough sounded. This one more forceful.
“We have outstayed our welcome.” He put the pouch back into the drawer and locked it.
Elizabeth spun on her heel, her face drawn. “I am not finished.”
“I am afraid you are. It is time to leave.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his side. “Keep your head down and continue with the theatrics. Nothing stops a man faster in his tracks than hysterics.”
“Or a woman who speaks her mind,” she said under her breath.
“Speaking your mind is not the issue. Failing to listen is.” Her rebelliousness sparked his temper once more. There would be time for arguing later. Langdon rounded the desk by the time Mr. Pike gave a small knock.
The instant the man entered, Elizabeth’s rigid frame slouched against him. Langdon half dragged her into the hall, forced to support her dead weight.
“Is she well?” the solicitor asked with genuine concern to his departing back.
A series of sniffles issued from Elizabeth.
“She will be fine once she is safely at the asylum.” Farnsworth slipped the man some coins. “I thank you for your patience and I beg you don’t share this minor incident with anyone. My sister’s illness has caused the family enough scandal.”
“I see. I see.” Pike cast Elizabeth a compassionate stare while fisting the coin in his small hand. “No trouble really.”
Farnsworth took the narrow staircase ahead of them and waited in the foyer for their descent. Silence stretched between them as Langdon guided her carefully down. The soft scent of lavender floated from her, along with feminine heat. He willed himself to ignore those weaker observations. They reached the last step and Farnsworth held the door open to allow them to pass.
Pike’s office was located in a rather sketchy part of town, the inhabitants casting them suspicious glances. The hackney he had hired for the trip was waiting. He steered her in the carriage's direction, unable to stay silent any longer. “Do you know how much trouble you could have been in? Pike may very well have been a villain of the worst sort.”
Her profile to him, she shrugged. “I was never in any real danger. He never suspected me of any duplicity.”
The blasé action inflamed him all over again and he clenched his fist. “You don’t seem to understand the severity of the worry you caused.”
“Your cousin is furious. And I...” he trailed off, unable to articulate his rioting emotions. Had Pike been a more unsavory type, she might have been in real danger. A rush of panic hit, and he tamped it down. Nothing had happened to her. Yet.
“And what are you?” Arms crossed, she tapped her thumb on the sleeve of her pale green pelisse and waited for him to finish.
His hand still on her elbow, he pulled her toward the carriage. “Extremely annoyed. You were reckless with your own safety. What did you hope to accomplish in that office? You had little time to see anything.”
“There you’re wrong. My visit provided me with a wealth of information. I propose we break into his office tonight and I will show you where to search next.”
