“I suppose.” Niles slapped the book against his thigh. “You won’t mind if I peruse this overnight.” Likely, there was nothing to hide. Common knowledge was the estate was buried in debt.
“But of course.” The other man rose. Even with Niles’ injured ribs, he could take him out, he had no doubt. He stood a good six inches taller and outweighed the heir by at least two stones.
But such action wasn’t yet necessary. And of course, Niles did not wish to find himself facing charges, especially away from London, away from the people who would interfere upon his behalf.
“I’ll have the butler escort you out.”
“Not necessary,” Niles rejoined. Of course, the bastard would be aware Niles had spent the previous night in a small chamber above stairs. “If you remember correctly, Mrs. Mossant requested I remain here at Pebble’s Gate until matters were settled to her approval.”
The smaller, younger man nodded slowly. It seemed that he too, was unwilling to show his hand.
Eve was staying in the Mistress’chamber. Niles had serendipitously bumped into a maid carrying a dinner tray upstairs and deduced her destination. For now, he stood behind a rather large planter, awaiting the maid to exit.
He’d quickly surmised that most of the servants had been newly hired. The average duration of employment was less than one week. Some had been hired before Jean Luc Mossant’s death, and some had been hired after. All had been hired by Darius Mossant.
His instincts screamed that something was off.
Niles ducked down when the maid stepped back into the corridor.
And then, without warning, an adjacent door opened and Mossant waved the servant over. “Make certain she eats,” he commanded in a cold voice.
The maid nodded, keeping her head down. “I will, sir. She’s sleeping now, but I’ll check back in soon to see she does as you wish.”
“And then report to me,” he ordered.
Eve? Sleeping? In the middle of the day? She’d never take anything to calm her nerves. She’d been more than adamant with him regarding her feelings towards such medicines.
As soon as the corridor cleared, Niles stole across the hallway and pushed at the door. At least it wasn’t locked.
Careful of being caught, he quickly slipped inside and clicked it shut behind him.
The curtains were drawn closed, leaving a small amount of light for him to see. The high canopied bed was not empty.
“Eve?”
At her lack of response, he cleared his throat and spoke her name again, this time more loudly. “Eve?”
“Jean Luc?” A tiny voice mumbled from beneath the covers. “Please don’t. Please don’t.”
Niles used the conveniently mounted steps to hop up and sit beside her. Upon pulling the covers back, he felt a small sense of relief.
She was sleepy and rumpled, but she seemed unharmed.
“Eve, sweetheart?” He couldn’t help himself and reached out to brush away the silky strands covering her face. She wasn’t fevered. Perhaps Mossant had simply been stating the truth. She’d undergone a considerable hardship after the accident.
And then been thrown into her past upon arrival at her former home, Pebble’s Gate. Where her useless husband’s body was laid out.
He himself had viewed the dead husband and it hadn’t been pretty.
“Niles?” she mumbled again without opening her eyes. “So tired.”
“I know, my dear Mrs. Mossant.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Likely, she’d thrash him if she were awake. “I needed to check on you. That’s part of my job, correct? To make sure you’re not in any danger?”
He knew it was not. To be precise, his job was to keep her funds safely tucked away.
“Danger? Jean Luc?” Her eyes fluttered open for only a few seconds. “I don’t want to marry him. I donwanna…” Seeing her husband’s body would have brought back all manner of recollections.
He needed to tell her about Darius. But would she remember?
