“I agree. The attack on Tabby...that we couldn’t possibly have anticipated.” He squeezed her hand hard. “It could have beenyou, Verity. I can’t get that out of my head...”
“I know,” she replied quietly. “Don’t imagine I haven’t thought of that. But I don’t think I’ve ever made deposits after dark. Neither has Tabby. This was a first. Also the last,” she added. “And yes, I’m furious with myself for letting her go off on her own.”
Lucas was silent for a little while as they neared his home. Then he took a breath. “She hasn’t made night deposits?”
“No. We mostly do the business end of the charity stuff in the mornings. It’s become a habit and both of us enjoy a cup of tea or coffee while we review the books, the upcoming projects, and so on.”
They reached the door of Ashcombe Cottage, and it opened promptly, revealing Edgar, feathers shining in the light from the foyer. “Welcome home, sir, my Lady.” He bowed. “I trust all is well with you? There are rumours flying around,” he continued, stepping aside and ushering them in. “Needless to say I am happy that neither of you seem to be harmed in any way.”
“We’re fine, Edgar. But yes, our friend Mrs Monroe was attacked while making a deposit at the bank deposit building.”
“Is she all right?”
“Yes,” Verity answered. “Thank you for asking, Edgar. That was kind of you.”
“It might not look like it, Lady Verity, but us tickerkins do worry about our people.”
She nodded her head. “Yes. My Sprocket does too, I believe.”
“Well, we’re home safe, Mrs Monroe is back in the arms of her family, and all’s well.” He sighed. “I think this calls for a brandy.”
“In the parlour, sir. Anticipating your return, I also lit the fire.”
“That is very thoughtful, Edgar,” smiled Verity. “I confess that a brandy would go down very well right now.”
“Well done, Edgar.” Lucas nodded at his tickerkin.
“Sir.” He rumbled away.
“Come on.” Lucas grabbed Verity’s hand and pulled her into the parlour. “He’s a tickerkin of his word.” Firelight sparkled off the glasses and decanter.
Shortly thereafter, tucked up in front of a warm fire, Verity sat on Lucas’s lap and sighed. “This is nice,” she murmured. “I like your taste in chairs. Large enough for two.”
“Whoever bought them obviously had this in mind.”
“Obviously.” She sipped her brandy. “Well, time to evaluate, I think. Tonight has been...quite unusual, to say the least.”
“Indeed.”
“I haven’t had chance to tell you what I found today. Why don’t we start there?”
He nodded. “Good idea. Then I’ll tell you what I found.”
Verity gathered her thoughts. Not an easy task, since she was cuddled snugly against a very handsome gentleman, drinking brandy and warming her toes at a lovely fire.
“It was another problem with the numbers of my overall report.” She stared into the flames. “So small, I probably wouldhave put it down to clerical error or something. But the totals on the account were definitely incorrect. And given recent events...”
Lucas nodded. “Yes. That’s the kicker, isn’t it? We’d never have noticed any of this under ordinary circumstances. But because we both share an affinity for numbers...”
“We see it. Alastair sees it. Even Julian sees it, although I’m not sure he understands it.”
“We do. That’s all that matters.” His arms tightened around her. “You and I. We matter.”
She gazed at him, losing herself in those mysteriously dark eyes. “Yes, Lucas. We matter.”
The kiss was inevitable, and Verity slid into it eagerly, sighing as his lips touched hers, withdrew and touched again. Teasingly he aroused her, with lips and tongue, and then hands as he moved her onto his knee and began to unfasten her corset.
Her body tightened as the warm touch of his hands met bare skin, and she sucked in a breath as her corset fell away. “You are very talented,” she murmured, loving the way he pushed her chemise off her shoulders and stroked the skin beneath.
