The words seemed to shock him. He flinched, as if recoiling from a physical blow. “Perhaps—I mean no offense—but perhaps, in light of your understandable concern for your brother, you are magnifying an innocent incident?—”
“A gunshot is hardly an innocent incident,” interrupted Alex, a little more sharply than she intended.
“No, it certainly is not.” He rubbed at his chin, as if in deep thought.
Alex was relieved that he appeared to be taking her seriously.
“Have you discussed your concerns with anyone else? I have noticed that Lord Branford seems to be a particular friend of yours …” He let the sentence die on a note of question.
Alex carefully schooled her features to hide any emotion. “Lord Branford is merely an acquaintance who has a passing interest in botany. He is not someone with whom I would discuss personal matters.” She drew in a breath. “While you, sir, have kindly expressed an interest in Justin. But if I have overstepped?—”
“Not at all,” he assured her. “You were quite right to speak to me, Miss Chilton. Your brother is an amiable young man and I’m happy to be of service to you and your family in trying to resolve this nasty business.”
He paused and regarded her with a strange intensity. “Tell me, have you any idea why anyone would want to harm either of you?”
“No—that what’s so alarming!” she said, her voice turning shaky with fear and frustration.
Hammerton patted her arm …
Alex was tempted to flick his fingers away. She knew he meant it kindly, and yet his touch was oddly repellent. “I …” She hesitated, and then decided not to mention her father’s strange letter. If someone as skilled as Branford couldn’t make sense of it, there was no point. “I haven’t a clue as to who it could be.”
“Never fear, Miss Chilton. I am happy to investigate this matter for you,” he said. “I shall begin making discreet inquiries immediately and will keep you informed as to what I discover.”
Alex breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared her trepidation concerning Hammerton was as misplaced as her earlier trust in … a certain other gentleman.
“Thank you, sir. I am very much in your debt.”
“Be assured that I will do my utmost to bring this distressing matter to an end,” he replied. “And now perhaps it would be wise for us to return to the ballroom before any idle tongues are set to wagging.”
Feeling a bit guilty for her unkind thoughts when clearly Hammerton was a true gentleman, Alex let herself be led back into the glittering lights and festive mood.
Cecilia Ashton marchedup the front steps of the magnificent townhouse and after seizing the heavy knocker, she hammered out a brusque announcement of her arrival.
Bang! Bang! Bang.
Tapping her foot in impatience, she waited for Branford’s butler to answer the summons.
When the fellow finally arrived, he merely cracked the door open a few inches—and looked shocked at seeing an unaccompanied lady.
“Kindly stop gawking and allow me to come inside,” snapped Cecilia. “I’m in no mood to tarry here on the doorstep all evening,”
For a moment, the man looked utterly nonplussed by the demand. Then, recovering his equilibrium, he replied in a stentorian voice. “I am sorry, Madam, but Lord Branford is not at home.”
“Fustian!” With the point of her neatly furled parasol, she pushed the door wide open.
The butler moved to block the entrance.
“Madam!” he intoned, though his inflection indicated his doubt as to whether she deserved such polite address. “I repeat, Lord Branford isnotreceiving visitors.”
The parasol whacked hard against his shins.
With an undignified yelp, he recoiled sideways, allowing Cecilia to sweep past him.
“Is he in the library?” She was already poking her head into the darkened room. “Ah, I see he is not. That must mean he’s in his bedchamber?”
The butler let out a strangled sound.
“You needn’t fear any repercussions,” she said airily as she ascended the stairs. “I shall inform Branford that you had no choice in the matter.”
