She kept her stubborn chin tilted. The way she remained unwavering made him proud, but he would get some answers one way or another.
“I do not appreciate these threats, sir.” Her voice trembled.
“It is not a threat. It is a promise.” He swept his gaze over her face and rested it on her trembling lips. “I think I shall personally return you to my brother and show him what a failure you have been. If I can conduct better detective work than you, it is obvious that Lord Wentworth should have paid for a professional instead of sending his servants.”
Seeing her beautiful mouth set in a grimace, he almost ceased the cruel tongue-lashing. He didn’t want to hurt her, but harsh treatment might be the key to unleashing her temper and getting the truth.
He continued his verbal assault. “I feel certain that my brother will be very disappointed in you. I have no idea what information about me you seek, but you seem to have come up empty-handed.”
When a look of defeat crossed her features, his stomach twisted. Where was that stubborn streak in her he so admired? Within moments, anger lines appeared around her eyes and lips. She straightened and shoved her hands against him, breaking free from his grasp.
“I’mnota failure.” She huffed in a flurry of anger. “I’ve done the job I sought out to do because I’ve found Lord Wentworth’s brother, who also happens to be a murder suspect.”
Her words confused him. He sauntered to the liquor tray and poured himself another drink, wishing it was something stronger. What was she talking about? Why would a governess accuse him of being a murder suspect?
“So, you are chasing someone who has killed another person?” he asked in a much calmer tone.
After taking a long swallow, he turned to meet her stare. In the past, he had enjoyed the ability to know what women thought, but Maxey Littleton was certainly proving to be different. He liked that almost too much.
“Yes, and I am to retrieve the piece of jewelry you stole.”
Confusion surged to his head stronger than before, creating a dull throbbing in his skull. It was a while since he’d met such a challenging woman.
He arched his eyebrows. “You believe I’m a murdereranda thief?”
“Indeed I do. The man I came looking for,” she continued, “took his brother’s ring with the family crest before strangling him in his sleep.” She wagged her finger at him. “Shame on you, Nash. You must know that you’re a wanted man now.”
A different emotion welled within his chest. Anger and revenge threatened to suffocate him, but he kept his eyes narrowed on her as the words sank in. His chest tightened.
“My brother…is dead?”
“Of course. After strangling a man, do you honestly expect him to live?”
“And you thinkIkilled him?”
She nodded. “Is that not what I have said a few times already?”
Bile boiled in his stomach and threatened to come up at any moment. “When did he die?”
“Two weeks ago.”
It had been several years since Nash talked to William, and the crushing blow that someone would think he killed his own brother was almost more than he could stand. And that they were also accusing him of stealing the family ring was absurd. He was raised the second son of an earl and knew the importance of lineage and heirlooms. He also knew that when one was disowned from their family, they gave up all rights of receiving anything.
Nash forced himself to laugh even though it was not in humor. “You think I killed my brother and stole his ring? That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”
“Because of the information I’ve gathered on you,” she continued as though he hadn’t said anything, “I have no doubt you are Ignatius Burke, even if you use the name Nash.”
“Nash is a shortened version of Ignatius.”
“Forgive me for not knowing,” she answered sternly.
He sought support from the counter behind him and leaned against the edge. Despite his uneasiness, he feigned calmness. “What led you to think I was guilty?”
“I was informed that Ignatius was trying to get back into his brother’s good graces but was denied. The day William was found dead, his wife realized the family ring was missing.”
“How did you find me?”
“Sally and I followed your trail and asked about a man fitting your description. We asked the older gentry because they would have remembered you before you were cast out of the family.” She paused briefly, closing the space between them until she was a foot away. “But it was when we talked to the not-so-proper connections when we found our answers. Do you have any idea how many harlots were willing to talk about you?”
