This was not unusual. Sleep had been unreliable since the fire, and it had grown worse since Hartwell's last letter. The one that said Barrington's trail had gone cold.
But this morning she felt the lack of sleep dearly because her eyes stung and her head pounded. And it did not help that she sat across from the Marquess of Blackwood as he delivered more bad news.
"Someone's been asking about you," Sebastian said.
Philippa appreciated the marquess's bluntness, even as it made her flinch. She'd asked him to look into the matter after Estella had told them both that Clarissa had seen someone watching her home.
She'd already suspected. And still… "What are they looking for?"
Blackwood glowered. "It's difficult to say. There've been inquiries into your finances, your household."
Philippa sat very still. "Who is it?"
She knew, of course. Only one man would take an interest in her to this extent.
"I don't know yet." Sebastian's jaw tightened. "They've been conducting a discreet investigation, but the pattern is clear. They're mapping who you fund, who you protect, and who comes and goes from this house."
"Yes. Once I alerted my staff to Lady Clarissa's claims…" Philippa met Blackwood's stare. "They've seen others skulking around this place."
"You think they're watching you?" Only the tick in his jaw gave away his fury. "For what purpose?"
The fury was on her behalf, she knew, and that was heartening. After the secrets she'd kept from him in the past, she was grateful he could forgive her enough to be her ally now.
But she turned over his words. Were they watching her? Perhaps. But she feared Barrington was looking for someone else. Her sister. She gave her head a little shake. He could not know she was still alive. Could he? But if he did…
Sebastian still stared, waiting for a response, and so she forced a small smile. "I can think of only one man who might take such an interest in me."
Sebastian's expression darkened further. "Barrington."
"I believe so." She reached for her tea, mostly out of habit. "He has every reason to want me discredited. I cost him his chance at the Fairfax heiress after the fire. I went to her mother and told her what sort of man he was, and the match was quietly dropped."
Sebastian tapped his fingers against his chair's armrest. "You believe he wants revenge?"
She lifted a shoulder. "He lost his financial lifeline. His debts were crushing him before the fire, and without a wealthy wife to rescue him…"
A desperate man was a dangerous man. She suspected Blackwood understood this well.
Sebastian leaned forward. "If he's back in London?—"
"Then Lydia is still safe," Philippa said firmly. "He believes she's dead. As long as that holds, he has no reason to look for her."
And she was all the more grateful for the lengths she'd gone to to keep Lydia's identity concealed. Still, fear nagged at her.
"Hopefully you're right and he has no reason to look for Lydia." Sebastian's fingers continued to drum against the armrest. "But he has every reason to come after you."
The words hung in the air between them. Philippa did not flinch, though the urge was considerable.
A knock at the door interrupted them. Estella entered. The way the glowering marquess stood and came to life at the sight of his beloved was enough to cut the tension in the room.
Philippa had to hide a smile at the warm reunion between the two. As if they'd been apart for months and not twelve hours.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said to Philippa when she moved to join them. "But you both left the ball early last night, and…well, there's something you should know."
Philippa and Sebastian exchanged a wary look. What now?
Estella twisted her hands together. "It's about Kit."
Philippa went still. "What about Kit?"
