Page 33 of His Wicked Charm

“Perhaps your father and Dearborn were each friends with Sabrina’s father, so they were simply thrown together.”

“But Father and Mr. Dearborn continued to get together even after Mr. Blair’s death. Father mentioned them sometimes in his letters, and I remember seeing the Dearborns at the house once when I was at Barrow House visiting my father.”

“Visiting?” Con glanced at her, startled. “You didn’t live with your father?”

“No.” Her face returned to its usual cool expression. “When I was twelve, he and Aunt Helena agreed that it would be better if I lived with her. A woman’s touch, you know.”

Con suspected there was some story hidden there, but he said only, “So if they weren’t friends, what if they met for some other reason? Like business?”

“What business?”

“I don’t know. But meeting as regularly as that doesn’t sound social—or, at least, not only social. It’s more like meetings of a board. Father is on the board of trustees for a charity. They meet quarterly to discuss it—make rules or allot the money. Uncle Bellard belongs to a society of historians that meets every month, and twice a year they also have a meeting of their board.”

“So you think they met because they were trustees of...something?”

“It could have been a business their fathers owned jointly.”

“If they did, it’s not something my Father passed on to me. Perhaps he gave it to Sir Jasper, though I’m not sure why he would. He resented having to leave the title to him, as I remember.”

“I examined the books on Sabrina’s estate when we were investigating Dearborn’s guardianship of her,” Con said. “I don’t remember her father sharing any possession with your father and Dearborn—though Dearborn could have already stolen it from her.” He frowned. “I should dig further back.”

“You looked into the fraud?” Her eyebrows rose.

“Yes. You always seem surprised by my investigations. You must not think my agency does much work.”

“I presumed Mr. Quick did most of it.”

“And I just put on costumes and beards and chase bizarre things.”

“Well...yes.”

“Your faith in me is astounding. But I’ll ignore that. Going back to the subject at hand, they didn’t have to share a business. It could have been a charity. Or a club—that could involve a key. Some clubs have silly ceremonies, don’t they? Maybe this key opens the place where they meet—like the Hellfire Club.”

“The Hellfire Club!” Lilah goggled at him.

“Yes, it was a club where, uh...” He stopped, realizing it was going to be difficult to explain the subject genteelly.

“I know what the Hellfire Club was,” Lilah retorted. “And I can assure you that my father would never have—” She blushed. “Or Mr. Blair either.”

“No, of course not.” How was it that he always managed to say the wrong thing to this woman? Maybe it was because there were so few things she considered right. “I didn’t mean they were engaged in anything nefarious. I just meant a club in a secret place out in the country. You said there was ample land on Mr. Blair’s estate.”

“Yes, and ours too, but there aren’t any caves. And what kind of club would have only three members?”

“Good points. Well, we’ll find out all that later. Right now I must go to Carmoor to search.”

“But Carmoor is closed.”

“So is the town house,” he reminded her.

“I realize that you can continue your criminal career in Somerset if you wish. What I meant was, there’s no place for you to stay.”

He cast a sideways grin at her. “Why, Miss Holcutt, I was rather hoping for an invitation from you.”

“Me?” Her voice rose.

“Yes. Your home is near Sabrina’s, I thought.” He looked at her quizzically. What had brought that sudden look of panic to her face?

“Well, yes, it is. We were neighbors. But, um, I’m not at Barrow House.”