He raised a brow. “Gabriel never lets anyone touch his personal items or messes.” He motioned at the table. “Let’s try answering the question again.”
Time was wasting. Gabriel could be home any minute. “You have to let me leave.” She spread her hands. “I won’t touch anything else. Everything I have packed is mine. I give you my word.”
The journal might be stretching it, but it was hers, dammit.
“Why the hurry? What is your full name,Felicity?” His voice was commanding and conciliatory at the same time. As if part of him were in control and part in deference.
“My name is Felicity Rose. My brother is in trouble. I must get to him right away.”
The last two statements were definitely true.
“Sit.”
Marietta squared her shoulders. The man looked quite capable with a pistol in his hands, but she didn’t think he would shoot her. There was something upright and noble about him.
Same impression she’d had about Gabriel.
She stepped forward before she could reconsider. “I must leave. Good day, sir.”
“The documents you have just shoved into your bag are not yours. Remove them. Now. Then I will consider your request to leave.”
If she could escape, it was worth it to leave them behind. She knew the facts of the case. Had already given Kenny what he needed to defend himself. The additional notes weren’t worth her life. She nodded and pulled the papers out, quickly dumping them onto the table.
“There is still something in your bag. Remove it.”
“It is only my journal. I had it before I appeared in this room.”
The bag was ripped from her grasp and large hands deftly removed the book. He flipped the cover. An unidentifiable emotion flashed over his face. She pulled her own pistol from her pocket.
He looked up and his eyes briefly registered surprise before it was masked. “So you truly did have a weapon. Who would have thought a waif such as yourself so armed?”
“Quite.” She motioned to the journal. “Put it in the bag and hand it back to me.”
She needed the journal. It was the only link she had. And now that she knew the code, she knew all the answers were inside.
His pistol was back up and pointed in her direction in an instant. “We seem to be at an impasse, Miss Rose.”
Damn, he moved quickly. “We do.”
“How did you come to possess Abigail Winstead’s journal?”
Surprise followed by deep terror was the only thing she possessed at the moment. “Her name isn’t written inside. How did you know?”
“What Idon’tknow is who you are and why you are here. Though I’m beginning to divine an answer to both.”
The terror from his revelation and presence was offset slightly by his eyes, which mostly held curiosity.
“I need that journal, and I need to leave this house. Please.”
“You are related to the Winters boy. Miss Marietta Winters, I presume? You have the look of your parents.”
Her pistol wavered slightly before she steadied it. “You knew my parents?”
“No. But I saw them once.”
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“Merely a butler. Or, I was a butler, I should say. Once a butler, always a butler.”
