“You think if you have no opinions or preferences that inconvenience me in the slightest that I will keep you around longer. I am an expert on the subject.”
“Who would wish you away?”
She smiled, catching her lower lip between her teeth to stifle it. The effort was ineffective, it still warmed me all over.
“You did, yesterday if you’ll recall. And you’re not alone. When Mama and I came from France, we had only what we could carry and sewn into our clothes. We relied on charity for years before her mother passed and left us an inheritance. I became very good at being exactly what everyone else wished. Retaining the favor of whoever took us in for as long as possible was how we survived.”
“I didn’t think… I am sorry for mocking your accent, when we met that first time.”
“I did not realize you recalled that much.”
“I remember the breeches. Quite clearly.”
“Do you know? I still wear them quite often.” She timed the comment perfectly with my sip of tea.
I nearly choked trying to keep from spitting the sweet brew out with my laugh. “Where? When? How?”
“Here, usually. I prefer to practice my fencing in them.”
Would it be worth selling my soul to watch that? Probably, but best not to ask. “That explains why you were so good with the umbrella, and so annoyed by the skirts.” She took a dainty bite of the lemon tart in agreement. “Rycliffe taught you to fence?”
“He did.”
The question was there. Waiting. The one that hadn’t been explained away last night. “Why… why did you think I killed him?”
She sighed heavily. “With Gabriel, I tend to react first and think later. Much later on occasion. I did not remember that I saw you the day before he passed. At the races, you caught my gaze across the field. Seeing you again at the masquerade sparked the memory. In a fit of pique, I went digging through some of his papers. I found a note that I thought was from you, calling him out. And I… that was all I needed.”
“He died the next day? I didn’t know. We were to meet later in the week.”
“About Adriane?”
“Yes. I was hoping he could put the title to some use. Get her a proper burial. Was right furious when he never came. Until I heard...”
“He would have. I think he would have. He— I know you hated him. And I know that what he did to her was unforgivable. But he really did regret it.”
“Think this might have to be a thing we agree to disagree on, love. You said there was a note?”
“Yes, in his things. He was involved in some… less than ethical dealings. I took the secondary ledgers and anything else he would not have wanted his father or Xander to see.”
“You… you have a secondary set of books?” And now I recalled why I found her so infuriating. “With information in them that may have gotten your husband killed. Does anyone know you have them?”
“Well, Xander as of earlier this week. And now you. You think they had something to do with Gabriel’s death?”
“It’s possible. And this note?”
“It just said ‘Hyde Park 6:30,W.’ But it looked as though the writer might have been left handed.”
“May I see it? And the ledgers? I… If there is something in there that was worth killing over, it is perhaps worth consideration.”
She hesitated, and for a moment I thought she was not entirely certain that I hadn’t killed her husband. But then she said, “Yes. You won’t tell Xander about what you find? Gabriel would not have wanted his brother to know this side of him.”
“I won’t.”
“All right, they’re in the study. Bring the tarts?” I grabbed the tray at her direction and followed her down the hall to the last room on the left.
Seventeen
CADIEUX HOUSE, LONDON - JUNE 13, 1816
