“Including counterfeit money. Unfortunately I thinkI know where it was.” She rose and walked into the bedchamber. She pointed at the void in the floor. “I think a large trunk used to be there.”
“It would appear so.”
“Is it not careless to store a large amount of counterfeit money in one’s own home? I would expect the criminals to have a less incriminating place to put it.”
“If your father was no more than a tool, hewasthe less incriminating place.”
“My father is so distracted when solving mathematical mysteries that he could have served as a tool and been unaware of it. Look at this place. Someone could have put that trunk here, covered it with books and papers, and he might have never noticed.”
“You should share that theory with Mr. Notley.”
“I think I will tell him to ask you about it at trial. You yourself said it was a wonder anyone could find anything here. I think it would be beneficial if you were asked to repeat that in court.”
“It was a very large trunk, Miss Belvoir. One that could not be overlooked by your father. However, if asked I will answer truthfully.” His fingers flipped the edges of a sheaf of papers on the bed. “You are very sure you found nothing of interest to his case here? Something you have squirreled away in that reticule you are carrying?”
“Very sure.” She left the chamber and returned to the table with the glove box. She began choosing a few books for her father. “You said the gaoler would deliveritems I bring. I will keep it small, so I do not appear to be taking advantage of anyone’s generosity.”
She plucked a few books off the shelves and made a little stack. She wished she could check more of her schoolbooks, but that would be stupid with him here. She tucked the banknotes deeper into her bodice, lest they fall out. Behind her back she could hear Ives moving around, shuffling papers and opening drawers.
“Don’t you believe me?” she demanded, turning on him.
He bent to pull a drawer set low in a cabinet. “I think you are inexperienced, and would not recognize useful evidence if you found it.”
“The magistrates would, however. Are you determined to find more nails for his coffin than they already claim to have?”
“My only goal when I prosecute is for justice to be served. I would be delighted to find something that supports your father’s innocence. I am not so coldhearted that I am eager to see him convicted. Now that I know you, rather the opposite.”
An arch response popped into her head, but her voice would not work. That was due to the way Ives looked at her. Not angrily. Not kindly either. His eyes carried no disapproval or pique. Rather he looked at her with a man’s calculation. The hardness emerged, but not due to displeasure. The considerations she had suspected that first evening in his office now showed more explicitly.
He appeared devilishly handsome with that look in his eyes. Wickedly dangerous. It should incite the urge to flee. Instead she could not move at all. She could only look, while a brief gaze alone sent tremors down her spine.
He broke the spell, and looked out the window. She thought she saw confident satisfaction flash before he masked himself.
“It is getting late,” he observed.
Reality banished the thrills. The light outside the window had dimmed considerably. She would be unlikely to return to school before night fell.
“I must hurry.” She looked at the glove box. “Would it be acceptable for me to take this with me too? As I said it is only old letters. I would not want them lost or destroyed if—if he does not return.”
“It would be yours anyway. Take it for safekeeping now if you want.”
She lifted the books and box and clutched them all to her body. Ives strolled over.
“You are very sure that you found nothing important?” he asked.
“I said as much. Why do you ask yet again?”
He looked down at her. “Because you are crinkling.”
“Crinkling?”
He picked up a piece of paper and crushed it in his fist. It made a distinctive sound. “Crinkling.”
All kinds of paper made that sound. Like banknotes stuffed in one’s bodice. She resisted looking down at herself.
He did not. His gaze settled right at the level of her breasts. If she were not holding the books, he would be peering at her body most inappropriately.
“I am thinking I should make very sure that you are not secreting documents or evidence out of this chamber,” he mused.
