What involvement did the Earl of Raine have in her receiving this? He had said he wanted to speak with her brother; it now appeared he had. It made her feel warm inside again, and that would never do. She could not allow that man to make her feel warm anywhere.
“Colin and Roy, take the crates to Miss Brown’s room,” Chibbers said, and soon the two footmen had deposited them there. Dimity took a few precious minutes to look inside before she went back to the duchess’s library.
Her father’s flute was there. Books and other things that had been his. But it was the small miniature of him as a boy that had her falling to her knees and weeping.
She would always think of him as her father, no matter that he had not sired her.
Composed, she left her room. Dimity knew tonight she’d spend time examining every piece in that crate. But for now she had work to do and plenty to think about. Tomorrow the duchess was visiting friends and had said Dimity was not needed. Perhaps she would set her plans in motion, now she had the money to do so.
…
Standing before the building, Dimity read the brass plate.
Sinclair Investigative Services.
Inhaling a large breath, she fought back nerves and opened the door. Climbing the stairs, she then knocked on the door at the top.
“Enter!”
Dimity turned the handle and walked into the offices.
“Hello.” The woman who greeted her was pretty and wore a wide, comforting smile. “How can we be of assistance to you today?”
“Ah, well as to that, I would like to speak with someone about a matter I need investigated, please.” Dimity felt her palms sweat inside her gloves. What was she doing here?What could these people possibly tell her when she had so little information to tell them?
“Well now, that’s lucky, as we can do exactly that for you. If I could please have your name.”
“Miss Brown. Dimity Brown.”
“Thank you, Miss Brown. I shall not be long, if you will wait here please.”
Dimity nodded, then sat in the soft gray chair. The woman disappeared through another door, leaving her staring at the painting of a ship on the wall. Minutes later, she returned, still smiling.
“Come this way, please.”
“Someone can see me now?”
“He can. Please follow me.”
“I—ah, of course.”
“There is nothing to be nervous about, I assure you. The man you are seeing is very gentle and kind,” the woman said.
“Thank you.” Dimity didn’t feel any better as she followed her into another room.
It was a huge space, and Dimity wondered if in fact a wall had been removed to accommodate the three desks. Only one was occupied, by a man. He got to his feet as she entered. He too wore a smile, yet not quite as sunny as the woman’s.
Tall with broad shoulders, he was handsome in a very different way from Gabriel Deville. Less menacing, she thought. He had dark hair and green eyes that seemed to soften as they looked at the woman who had ushered her in.
“This is Mr. Warwick Sinclair. Warwick, this is Dimity, Miss Brown. She has need of your services.”
“Does she? How wonderful. I was a bit bored today,” Mr. Sinclair said.
“I will make us all some tea.”
“Thank you, Samantha. Come, Miss Brown, please take a seat.” He waved a hand to the chair across from his desk. “No need to be nervous. I assure you I have already bitten the head off someone today, so you will be fine.”
“I’m not really sure you can help me,” Dimity said, sitting on the edge of her seat.
