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Abram stepped inside and noted immediately the stark difference between this room and his modest apartment across town and even more, the dark hallways of his home in Ireland. “Thank you,” he said, removing the bundle of letters from his pocket and placing them on a wooden writing desk.

“Very well. Should you need anything else, simply ring and someone will come up.” The butler offered a bow from the waist before backing through the door and closing Abram in.

Based on what had been said, he was almost certain Orris was nowhere near his room. Perhaps it was just as well. He was not so sure he could behave himself. She had a way of encouraging him to share his thoughts, his fears. He was not accustomed to being so vulnerable with anyone. Not his family, certainly. He had not even been so with Rowan.

There was something about Orris. She had a beautiful soul. One that touched his own. There was no use in considering more with her, though, not with a shroud of danger wrapped about him.

His mind drifted back to the image of her on her horse. It was his favorite of all. He could imagine her riding alongside him in the countryside.

He shook his head to rid himself of such futile thoughts. She was not interested in him, or courting in general, it seemed. There was no sense in raising his hopes with such thoughts. Of that, he was sure.

*

By the time the rap on the door came, Abram had settled in to begin reading the letters. The first was from his father, demanding he return home by harvest. He realized most of these would be similar, and likely in response to all the excuses Rowan had sent forward on his behalf.

“Yes?” he said, calling out to the hallway.

“Dinner will be served soon, Mr. Fain. Your presence has been requested in the parlor,” the voice said.

Picking up his dinner jacket, he slipped it on then walked to the door. The young man offered a smile, then led him to the French doors of the parlor.

As the door opened, there stood Orris in a vibrant cream-colored dress with a red sash around her waist that flowed into a bustle and train down the back. Crimson buttons ran down the bodice, a complement to the burst of color, tying the combo together well. He could have painted her right then on the spot.

“Mr. Fain, welcome back,” Orris said. She was a vision.

Without thinking, he walked directly to her side. “Miss Orris, you look lovely this evening.”

“She appreciates you for noticing her,” Mrs. Gray said, moving to stand beside her daughter.

Abram cleared his throat. “Good evening, everyone. I appreciate the invitation to join you all in your lovely home.” He turned away from Orris, sure he had overstepped a boundary. If he were not a part of society, he should not have been so forward with Orris. Not everyone here knew of his title. Even if his title came with resentment for the third duke, his father, and the eventual fourth, who would be his evil brother, he would need the wretched lineage to even be considered a peer of Orris.

“Hello,” Miss Gladys said, her dress one of fluffy, pink material, the bottom flared out in the shape of an upside-down champagne flute.

“Mr. Fain, come stand by me. I am sure the ladies have some covert discussions around suitors and all the proper things, of which we care not,” Samuel said with a chuckle.

Abram should have thanked him for saving his hide. He followed the viscount to the window, right next to the pianoforte, grabbing a drink from the footman standing in the corner.

“What have you found in his belongings?” Samuel asked in a hushed voice.

Abram glanced around, catching Orris watching the two of them. Of course she would be interested in what they were saying. She was inquisitive, and it had been her idea for them to support him in his efforts to find Rowan’s killer.

“I am afraid there was nothing much to go on. I had only started reading the letters this evening. I plan to resume searching for anything suspicious when I return to bed. After dinner, later tonight.”

“Shall we meet once everyone retires for the evening?” Samuel kept his voice low, which Abram matched.

He could tell Orris was wondering about the conversation since she continued staring even as her family members were engaged in conversation.

“I need time to go through things. I do not anticipate a quick process. There are dozens of letters from my father and others from people I do not know.”

“Very well. In the morning, then. Since there has been a threat made against your life, we should act with haste. There are not many murderers who have patience. I would imagine the plot continues.”

“I would agree. I am hopeful we can put an end to this nightmare as soon as possible. I am sending my father a post to explain what has happened. I will advise him I will return home as soon as possible. He will be happy to hear.”

“Most assuredly. Will he send guards to you?” Samuel asked, the concern in his worried eyes evident.

“I am not sure. He is not a man prone to hysterics.”

Samuel took a sip of his drink, likely the same brandy cocktail Abram had selected. “I suppose that is a good thing,” he said, swilling the drink in the glass.