“And it will be if I can establish proof that it is yours, and if we find the book, of course,” Gray said calmly.
Anger crackled in the air.
“Come, brother, let us go, and the detective can do his job, which will ensure that you get your book.” Miss Brownly put her hand on his arm.
“It is not simply a book, Miranda,” he snapped.
“The fault is not your sister’s, Mr. Brownly,” Ellen said. “It is of the man who murdered George.”
He glared at her, as if she’d had no right to speak to him. Miss Brownly, however, gave her a small smile.
“If you could please bring proof of your exchange with Mr. Nicholson for the book you claim he purchased on your behalf to Scotland Yard, Mr. Brownly. As surely an intelligent man like yourself did not simply hand over the money without some kind of written proof?”
The man’s cheeks were now red with rage. His sister looked nervous.
“Good day,” Gray said, moving to the door. He then held it open. When they had left, he shut it behind them.
“And yet another player enters the fray. I don’t suppose you had another vision that said Mr. Brownly is the killer, did you?” Gray asked her.
She shook her head. “I feel sorry for that man’s sister. He seems like a domineering angry type.”
“Agreed. I’m also wondering if Brownly was lying. That he came here to bargain with George Nicholson for something he knew he had and then changed tack when he realized George was dead.”
“That’s dastardly!” Ellen said.
“Dastardly? How dramatic of you, Miss Nightingale.”
To Ellen’s surprise, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“One kiss would never be enough with you.” His mouth took hers slowly, and Ellen melted into him. Instinctively, her arms went around his neck, and she held on as his lips explored hers. Where one finished, another started. His hand roamed her back, stroking her through the layers of clothing, and she wanted to be closer to him. Wanted to explore this wonderful feeling that was coursing through her.
“I have it opened!”
Gray eased her back, his eyes holding hers. Heat simmered in the dark depths. Heat and need that matched what she felt. Her body hummed.
“Come along.” He kissed her again briefly. “You can witness my cousin gloating. At least having your beauty beside me will ease the pain slightly.”
She walked up the stairs in a daze before him, quite liking the idea that Gray thought she was beautiful. Loving even more that he’d lost his reserve and kissed her for the second time that day.
They entered the room to find Ramsey sitting before the now open box.
“What’s inside?” Gray asked. “Because there is no chance you wouldn’t have looked.”
“Ledgers and a small brown leather book, which has notes in it.”
Gray held out his hand, and Ramsey gave it to him.
“Would it help if I went through the ledgers?” Ellen asked.
Gray studied her for long seconds, a small smile teasing his lips as if he knew what his kiss had done to her.
“Very well. We are looking for anything connected to Brownly and the bookBlackstead Bestiary. Or anything that says who killed George Nicholson.”
“Right then,” Ramsey said, picking out a book. “It looks like we two are assistants to Detective Fletcher from Scotland Yard, Ellen.”
The only sound Gray made was a loud, weighty sigh.
Silence settled around the room then as they read.
