“My pleasure, sir,” the butler boomed back. “Will that be all?”
Bemused, Jasper nodded. What had inspired her ladyship to hire a deaf butler? Did the man check the door frequently, or was a second staff member required to alert the butler when someone knocked? Jasper watched the man head back down the hall, then turned into the parlor.
Hideous. The only word that suited the décor. Dark, nearly black, paneling lined the lower halves of the walls. Above, they were clad in a red silk so deep as to resemble dried blood. Gold brocade abounded, and black marble clad the fireplace across from Jasper. A feeble flame flickering within the grate, as if loathe to give too much light to so grim a room. On the edge of awareness, Jasper noted a woman seated on the sofa to his right.
Before the fireplace stood Madelina Greydrake. White-blonde curls framed her perfect oval face. Clear gray eyes watched him over a slender nose and bow-like lips. Her lithe frame, clad in cream, stood as a ray of light in the otherwise oppressive room.
“My lady,” Jasper greeted as he stepped into the parlor. He offered a low bow.
“Mister Mclintock,” she acknowledged, her tone devoid of the warmth he felt certain he’d stirred to life at the museum. “I don’t believe you’ve met my aunt, Miss Saint Lawrence.”
Jasper followed Madelina’s gesture to his right. A never married chaperone was an unconventional choice, but Jasper could immediately see that Miss Saint Lawrence was a rather formidable woman. In build and features she resembled her niece, but Miss Saint Lawrence’s gray eyes were granite hard and her nose crooked at the end, raptor-like. She sat forward on the overdone gold sofa, both hands resting on the top of a cane. A bird of prey—the cane’s handle—glared from between her fingers.
Jasper offered another bow. “Miss Saint Lawrence. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
She studied him for a long moment, expression unreadable. Jasper resisted the urge to tug his suit coat straight. Finally, Miss Saint Lawrence pressed her palms down on her cane and levered to her feet.
“I feel like a book,” she said and limped nearer Jasper, where he stood just inside the door.
Was that why they’d hired a deaf man, Jasper wondered, because Miss Saint Lawrence held sympathy for those society might deem less than perfect?
“You’re leaving us alone?” Madelina asked.
Did he detect a note of worry in her voice? Did she not trust him? He took in the pink that colored her neck, threatening her cheeks. Perhaps the lady did not trust herself?
Miss Saint Lawrence didn’t halt her progress. “I’ll return, and in the meantime, I’ll leave the door open. I don’t care to listen to you interrogate the lad.”
Jasper turned back to Madelina.
A frown pulled at her lips as she watched her aunt depart.
Interrogate him, would she?
Madelina’s frown disappeared as she turned to him. “Did you enjoy the museum?”
“I always do but, as you know, I was not there for pleasure.”
“Yes, business, you said.”
He nodded, ill at ease with her choice of topic. Nor had she invited him to sit or offered refreshments. Obviously, he stood on trial. If only he knew the reason.
“Two veiled women passed me as I departed the wing. Not something you witness often. Yourbusinessmeeting?”
Jasper didn’t miss her emphasis. Did jealousy lay at the root of her lack of enthusiasm for his presence? He could only read that as encouraging. “Precisely.”
“So, you were not meeting one of them for…for the pleasure of her company?”
“If I were meeting a woman at the museum for pleasure, it would be to walk the exhibits with her, but that is not what I was about.” He took in the disbelief on her face and knew he must add more. “She had information for me.”
“She seemed very wealthy.”
“I cannot reveal her identity.”
“Then tell me what information she had for you.”
He shook his head. “It is not a topic for ladies.”
“I’ve no doubt she was a lady.”
