The carriage stopped at Harbingers toffee shop, and Gabe climbed out first.
“A bag each. I am not sharing,” Zach said from the carriage doorway.
Gabe had taken two steps when a feeling of unease settled over him. Looking right, he saw nothing. Turning left, he saw a black carriage.
“Down!” He turned and dived back into his carriage. Zach took the impact of his body and hit the floor, grunting as Gabe landed on top of him. The other two were lying on the seat.
“What?” Nathan asked.
“A gun, to the left in the carriage.”
Nathan eased up slightly. “It’s gone.”
“Bloody bothering hell,” Gabe muttered.
Chapter Eighteen
Life for Dimity fell into an easy routine after the day she’d been kissed by the Earl of Raine while pressed to his hard body.
She would wake, walk the dogs, and then read to the duchess for an hour. Her employer would sit for Mr. Diard, who came each day to paint her. The duchess would then nap, and Dimity would walk the dogs once more, usually with Mr. Diard.
She’d tried to strike up a conversation with Mr. Allard, but he was a shy man who seemed happiest in the background, helping Mr. Diard when required. So, she left him there.
She had come to like the artist. He was intelligent and humorous, and gentle with the duchess. Thankfully he was not as disturbing as the large, dark, and dangerous earl who consumed far too many of her thoughts.
One other thing occupied far too much of her time.
Who am I?
When she was alone in her bed, thoughts would tumble around inside her head as she tried to work out where she came from. A need was growing inside her to know, but how she would get that information, Dimity had absolutely no idea.
“Something has arrived for you, Miss Brown. It is currently being held in the kitchens.”
“Something, Chibbers?” Dimity looked to the door where the butler now stood.
She was currently sorting through the duchess’s books and putting them in order of who had written them. It was a job the duchess rarely trusted anyone to do, so it was quite an honor for Dimity.
“A rather large pile of somethings, Miss Brown.”
Dimity liked the serious butler. He ruled the house with a strong yet fair hand.
She followed Chibbers downstairs to where the staff crowded around two crates. On top was a piece of paper folded in half.
“It has your name on it, Dimity,” one of the maids said.
Picking up the paper, she opened it and found money inside. Clutching the notes, she read the words on the paper.
I apologize for my behavior. Here are some of my father’s things. Please tell Lord Raine you received them.
It was signed Mr. Brown. The use of the words “my father,” made Dimity wonder if he knew she’d not been his real sister. Looking at the money once more, she wondered if it would enable her to do what had been forming in her head for several days.
“Look inside, Miss Brown,” Chibbers urged her.
Lifting the lid on the first crate, she found some of her father’s things.
“Th-They were my late father’s belongings,” Dimity managed to get out around the lump in her throat as she touched the book containing the sheet music he had collected over the years.
“Wonderful! Now you will have something to remember him by.”
