Again she fiddled with her sleeve, attempting to cover the bracelet.
“Esme, what are you doing?”
Pink settled in her cheeks, and she looked away. “I do not wish Phillip to know how foolish I was, how weak. I only want to inquire how one might remove or reverse a curse, not this specific curse. Or perhaps we could tell him we know the Raven’s men have two of the bands.” She shook her head, and Fielding could have sworn a stray teardrop slid down her cheek. “But I should have known better.”
He wanted to tell her not to cry, but he wasn’t certain what should come after that. He was not in the practice of consoling women. So he merely nodded. “I won’t say anything.” He squeezed her knee.
“Thank you.”
Fielding pulled the bag closer to him. “We’re not showing him the box until I am certain he’s not involved in any way with your kidnapping.”
“I can’t see how it would be possible for Phillip to work with the Raven.”
“Anything is possible,” he said.
She shook her head, clearly unconvinced. “No, not Phillip. He’s far too honorable a man for that. Besides, an intelligent man like Phillip wouldn’t be taken in by a nasty villain like the Raven, who—”
She broke off short, her cheeks burning, as if she’d only just realized she’d implied that he himself was neither honorable nor intelligent.
“I didn’t mean—,” she began.
He didn’t give her the chance to finish. “The Raven is a very charming man when he chooses to be. He’s convinced stronger men than your scholar to do his bidding.”
She said nothing, so it was unclear if she believed him or not.
Fielding felt his own irritation with Phillip, the scholar, growing. So what if this intelligent, honorable man was exactly the sort Esme should end up with? He was, no doubt, a pasty-skinned weakling. And he’d be completely unable to protect Esme from the Raven.
However, the thought did little to raise Fielding’s spirits. Was that why she’d taken such care with her hair today, because she’d known she would see her scholarly friend? No matter how Fielding tried to convince himself that he wasn’t jealous of Phillip, he couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was lying to himself.
A moment later the carriage stilled. “I believe we’re here,” he said.
Together they walked up the steps to her friend’s corner redbrick townhome. Fielding knocked on the door, and few moments later they’d been led into the study and seated in worn but comfortable leather chairs.
The curtains had been pulled back to allow the day’s light to pour in. The room was small, or perhaps it only felt that way because of the towering columns of books that lined three of the four walls. Esme had been right to assume Phillip had an extensive library.
Esme’s face lit up at the sight of so many books. The moment the servant left, she popped out of her chair to stroll among them, her fingertips trailing their spines like a lover’s caress.
Fielding wanted to growl with frustration. It was bad enough being jealous of her anemic scholar. He would not be jealous of the man’s books.
When there was a sound at the door, Esme started guiltily and returned to her seat.
“Oh, we shall finally meet,” a man’s voice sounded from the hall.
Esme fidgeted with her skirt.
The man stepped into the study with a small calico cat draped in his arms. He stopped suddenly. “Mr. Grey, whatever are you doing here?”
“Mr. Nichols is your scholar correspondent?” Fielding asked. The relief that surged through his body annoyed him. It was relief only because he knew for certain Mr. Nichols wasn’t the one who’d told the Raven about Esme’s key. Fielding knew the reason behind his shoulders relaxing had more to do with the fact that Mr. Nichols didn’t warrant jealousy on Fielding’s part.
Esme frowned. “You know each other?”
“Mr. Nichols is part of the group of men from Solomon’s who hired me for this job,” Fielding said.
Nichols placed the cat on a chair.
Esme stepped forward and clasped both of Mr. Nichols’s hands. “It is such a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”
“Dear girl, indeed a great pleasure. And this is Pandy,” he said, leaning down to stroke the kitten. Then he looked over at Fielding. “And you, sir, have chosen a perfect intellectual guide for this quest to secure Pandora’s box. This lovely woman has dazzled me with her grasp of theories both ancient and new.”
