“I’m fine,” I managed to rasp, even as my eyes were tearing up.
“I beg to differ,” Mr. Dorian drawled. In another moment, the secretary had returned with a little mug of water, and Mr. Dorian shoved it at me. I took a long sip, and the cool water really did help. I cleared my throat and wiped my eyes. “Thank you.”
Mr. Dorian was still frowning at me in concern. “You are welcome. Now tell me what the devil you are doing here.”
“I—”
But before I could explain, the door of Mr. Howard’s office opened, and he stormed out. “What is all this ruckus?” he demanded.
“Nothing, Howard,” Mr. Dorian replied without taking his gaze off me. “Mrs. Harper has just had a little coughing fit.”
The publisher frowned in confusion. “Mrs. Harper from … from Corfu?”
“Yes, that’s me,” I said with a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry to interrupt.”
Mr. Howard rushed over to join us. “I had no idea you were here. Did you come with Dorian?”
“No,” we both answered in unison, and the man raised an eyebrow.
“That is,” I began again, “I came here to ask you for his address.”
“Oh. Well. Lucky for you, he was my nine o’clock meeting,” Mr. Howard said with a sharp glance at Mr. Dorian.
“It was for nine-thirty,” Mr. Dorian insisted. “I would never agree to a meeting at nine.”
“Well, you are still late either way,” Mr. Howard huffed.
Meanwhile, I glared at the secretary. “You told me he was busy all while he was sitting alone in his office?”
“Uh … I …” Mr. Deveraux shot a panicked look between me and his employer.
“I’m very sorry, Mrs. Harper,” Mr. Howard said. “Of course, if I had known you were waiting …”
“It’s fine,” I said, irritated. “I only came here because I needed to speak to Mr. Dorian anyway. But go. Have your meeting. I will wait.”
Mr. Dorian was eyeing me curiously. “No need. I only came to drop off my manuscript.”
Then I noticed the satchel slung over his shoulder. He pulled out a thick manuscript bound in string and handed it to Mr. Howard.
I raised an eyebrow. It was even longer than his last mystery. “Goodness. You have been busy.”
The two men exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher, and Mr. Dorian held out his arm. “Come. We can talk in my carriage.”
I accepted his arm, and he ushered me outside. Mr. Howard’s office was located in the Strand, and the street had grown considerably busier while I had been inside. Mr. Dorian expertly steered me through the crowded pavement to where his carriage waited nearby on a quieter corner and handed me up before climbing in after me. Mr. Dorian settledin the seat directly across from me and fixed me with a look.
“Now then. Would you be so kind as to tell me what on earth is going on?”
I cleared my throat and folded my hands on my lap. “You were right.”
Mr. Dorian tilted his head in surprise. “Pardon?”
“About Lord Linden. You were right. He is up to something.” I then explained what I learned during my visit with Cecelia yesterday, along with the contents of the letter she had sent this morning. Mr. Dorian was silent as he mulled everything over. “Well?” I demanded, unable to contain my anxiety any longer. “What do you make of it?”
“I don’t know,” he said plainly.
I reared back. “That’s all you have to say?”
He let out a short sigh. “A man who didn’t get along with your husband lied about knowing him. That isn’t exactly a silver bullet.”
