Jemina and the heady kisses.
Jemina and the heavy ticking feel of her heart.
Jemina and the hurt in her eyes as she walked away.
After winning a set, Daniel returned to scanning the doorway. Hope might crawl by with Mrs. G. chasing. The lady was likely tired from managing his daughter and his household.
He’d have to keep looking or listening for commotion; the brave little girl who wasn’t supposed to come down those stairs might try.
“Huzzah.” Mr. Anthon slapped the table with a three of clubs, seven of spades, eight of hearts, and three of hearts. Twenty-one.
“What, no court cards? A jack or queen.” Daniel smiled at the young man and passed him the deck and the pot.
Bridgetower came in; his face looked cross.
“Not another broken soul.” Richmond tossed in his cards. “You young people should be lucky in love and do poorly at cards. I need to take my winnings home.”
The violinist adjusted his thick onyx cravat like a taut bowstring. “Ashbrook, do you know there’s a woman in your hedgerow?”
“Clothed?”
He squinted at Daniel. “Yes. Like would she not be?”
“It’s been an interesting month, friend, sit.”
He pointed to the door, then shrugged. “Well, fully dressed as far as I can see in a green cloak. Pretty, peeking at Finchely with theater glasses.”
Jemina’s cape was emerald. It made her eyes a more intense hue. “By herself or are there two spies?”
“By herself. Umm. You’re not going to go see about that?” Bridgetower’s lips formed a flat incredulous line. He pointed to the door. “You sure?”
“Nope. When she’s ready for a formal visit, she’ll come to the front door, just like you gentlemen.”
His friend shrugged and began filling a plate from the meats on the sideboard. Adjusting his tailcoat, he sat astride. “You’re a strange bird, Ashbrook.”
Strange and patient.
Daniel was all of that, and maybe lucky. If he was still a Widow’s Grace operation, then he might have another chance to take a risk and fix things after all.
CHAPTER 24
JEMINA—BURGLARY AND ABARRISTER
Aweek of surveillance of Finchely House proved nothing to me other than Daniel Thackery, the Earl of Ashbrook, liked to stay home, often in the comfort of his friends. Not even the duke’s invitation for dinner made him leave.
A daytime investigation was the only thing I could do. Ashbrook would be in court. I stood at the rear of his property. In the woods, a familiar scent, the sweet smell of blue and purple flowers made my head swim. A torrent of memories swirled in the breeze. I had an hour or less to accomplish this mission, to find whatever evidence he had here.
Then I could let Ashbrook go.
Thunder crackled. My hand rattled the assegai iron hook I clasped. I could do this by myself. It was heavy, but there was no better tool to climb. Patience was so good at this, but I couldn’t involve her.
The windows on the second floor at the rear of the house possessed no view of the road. Blessedly, the earl kept minimal staff. I should be able to do this undetected.
Whoop. I cast my rope. I missed, and the hook crashed to the ground. My confidence faltered for a moment.
On the third try, my assegai caught the edge of the balcony. Twenty tugs convinced me that it would hold.
Closing my eyes, I pretended it was night and Patience was ahead of me, steadying the rope. Boots clawing into the vined trellis, I pulled myself higher. When I dared to look, I was at the top with my hand curling over the stone wall of the balcony.
