He wore his teasing smugness like a coat and propped against my doorway with a pastry in hand. “So… How was your Sunday?” He asked the question with an amused lilt to his voice, taking a bite to hide his smirk.
“Better than yours, obviously.”
“I’m sure it was. How is the lovely Celine?”
“As you stated, lovely.”
“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?” he asked, annoyance written in his tone.
“I dined with her mother and a family friend last evening.”
“Really? I take it by your sanguine demeanor that went well?”
“It did.”
“And…”
“And what?”
“And am I to ask you for advice with women yet?”
“Women? Or Lady Davina?”
“Fine, I’m going to my office. I have more than enough work to do. Before they arrive though, keep an eye on the clerks. Bates specifically. He’s been jumpy since the break-in.”
“You don’t mean…”
“Well, whoever broke in either picked the lock or used a key. It’s possible one of them was involved. I caught him trying to ‘help’ tidy your office or search for documents in here no less than three times the other day.”
“Perfect…” I sighed. “Thank you for the warning, I suppose.”
“Of course,” he mumbled with a mouthful of tart.
One by one the clerks arrived with Bates making a concerted effort to come into my office to welcome me back to the office. I noted a less than surreptitious glance at the documents on my desk. Lord, I hoped Kit was wrong. The man had a family to feed. But if he had information that would keep Celine out of danger?—
The bell at the door rang and in stalked Wayland, shooing Lady Davina ahead, half-garbed in what was clearly her brother’s clothing. Wayland’s youngest brother, Mr. Tom Grayson followed, trying and failing to keep his laughter to a minimum.
“Kit! I understand you’re responsible for this nuisance?” Wayland hollered from the main room. Grayson propped himself against one of the clerk’s desks to enjoy the show as Kit stumbled out of his office. I made my way into the main room to see what all the commotion was about.
“I would hardly say I’m responsible for her. That would be her brother.”
“Yes, well, I did steal Rosehill’s fiancée from under him. So if it’s all the same, I’d rather deal with you.”
“Ugh! No one isdealingwith me. I won! What is there to deal with?” Lady Davina demanded.
“Right. My office then,” Kit said, gesturing distractedly behind him while gaping at the sight of the lady in breeches. She sauntered up to him, paused to adjust his cravat in an overly familiar way, then continued inside. Wayland followed, and Kit stood frozen, blinking dully for a moment until she called his name. He turned and joined them, closing the door behind him and leaving a bemused Mr. Grayson and the rest of the office thoroughly distracted in his wake.
I selected a tart from the nearby table and nodded toward my office when I had Mr. Grayson’s attention. “Have a seat and a tart?”
He agreed and settled himself with his pastry across from me at the desk, his boot-clad feet promptly hitting the wood as he leaned back in the chair. It creaked in irritation but held fast and apparently Mr. Grayson was unconcerned with the protest.
“So, she was gambling then?” I asked, hoping for an amusing story for my morning.
“She won some three thousand pounds off Lord Montrose before anyone caught on. Now, of course, he’s refusing to pay like the little weasel he is.”
“Do we need to send a note to Rosehill?”
“Augie went to fetch him before he went home to Anna and Emma,” he explained as he polished off the tart.
