“I know that you went to the packet offices to look at the manifests of passengers. Yet you did not tell me that.”
“You did not ask. We spoke of other things.”
Other things. Important things. More important than this damnable inquiry that would probably shred his soul before it was done. He wished they were back on that day, enjoying that afternoon tight in a new intimacy stronger than any wrought by passion.
He forced himself back to the topic at hand. “I have gone, and also looked. The clerk remembered a woman requesting the same week’s manifests recently. You.”
“So you know that your cousin Kevin was not out of the country when your uncle died. That he came back from France for a few days, and then returned there.”
He gritted his teeth, and went to stand at the fireplace. “I want to know what led you to even look for his name on those passenger lists.”
“It was something Mr. Edkins said in passing.”
“The valet?”
“He was talking about his master’s habit of wandering at night, in the city after dark and on that roof at his estate. He mentioned that usually it relaxed him. Calmed him. But not always. At times he would return angry, talking to Edkins but really to himself. And he said that the night before the duke died he came down from the roof muttering about how they acted like he was a bank they never had to repay, how after everything he had given the boy, more was expected for that damned invention. Well, the invention part made it obvious of whom he spoke. It sounded like he met with Kevin, either that evening or that night. Only Kevin was supposed to be out of the country.”
“Of course you checked if perhaps he really wasn’t.” He slammed his fist on the mantel. “Damnation, Minerva, why didn’t you tell me this?”
An invisible veil fell over her face. Her expression dulled into utter blandness. She looked at a spot on the wall, not him.
She had retreated, totally. From the conversation, and him. She was withdrawing from anger, the way she had learned to with Finley.
He strode over and knelt beside her. He took her hands. “I apologize. Forgive me. I should not let my reaction to this news fall on you.”
She did not pull her hands away. Eventually she looked down at them, then at him. Something of her spirit reentered her eyes. “I knew it would trouble you. I thought to spare you that for a while longer. Eventually it would come out, of course. You yourself would have checked each story regarding where they were, now that you know it was not an accident. I did not need to be the bearer of bad news.”
He kissed her hands, not thinking whether he should. It touched him that she thought to spare him, for a while longer.
“Also,” she said. “I do not think he did it.”
“Don’t you now?”
She shook her head. “He is not the sort to.”
“There is no sort, Minerva.”
“I disagree.” She leaned forward, close enough to be kissed if he chose to. Which he didn’t, much as he would like to. “Now, as long as I have you on your knees and feeling bad, you can tell me what you did not share with me.”
He would have laughed, except that she was very serious. “A small detail.”
“How small?”
“A spot of information, nothing more.”
“I will decide if it was a spot or a large blotch.”
He rested back on his heels. Not that he expected a blow to come, of course. “Whether Kevin visited him is yet to be confirmed. However, he did have a visitor.”
“He did? Who?”
“A woman. That is all I know, and all that was seen. Not her face, or even much of the rest of her.”
“Who told you?”
“Edkins.”
She frowned. “He didn’t tell me that.”
“Did you bluntly ask? Sometimes that works best.”
“My way worked quite well. However, perhaps in the future we should plan it so that I chat with them and get unintended droppings, and you bluntly ask and get your kind of answers.”
He slid onto the divan beside her, still holding her hand. “That is a good plan.”
Their proximity, their clasped hands, caused a change in the air. He did not much care about Mr. Edkins’s revelations anymore.
She turned to look at him right in the eyes. “You did not tell me because the woman could have been me.”
“I knew it was not. I did, however, worry that you would believe I thought it was you.”
“How did you know it wasn’t me, if no one saw her face?”
He raised her hand and kissed it. “I just knew.”
* * *
Minerva had no illusions that Chase expected the night to end as it began. If the exquisite anticipation tightening her core was any indication, she had better make her decision soon. A nervous jumpiness descended on her. It seemed to spread from her blood out to the chamber they occupied. She felt it in him too, although nothing in his body or face revealed it. He appeared companionable and friendly, not lusting.
He would not seduce her. He would probably sit here for hours if she preferred that. From the looks of him, he didn’t even care if they talked while they did so.
His manservant arrived with a big tray. Wordlessly he poured warm negus into two small glasses. She sipped the spiced port punch, glad for something to do. Once the servant left, however, she set her glass down.
“I cannot decide.” She assumed he would know what she spoke of. “I weigh it and—” She shrugged.
“I do not think weighing it will resolve anything. I don’t think the answer you seek will present itself that way. Nor do you need to decide now, or next week, or ever.”
She did not want to remain undecided forever. How sad that would be. If she lived the rest of her life the way she had lived the last years, it should be a choice. If she denied herself that part of being a woman, after experiencing that fulfillment once, she did not want it to be because she lacked the courage to choose another way.
He spoke not at all, just sat beside her, his warm palm cradling hers. The nervousness she experienced hung thick between them, like a palpable excitement waiting to burst forth.
She looked at him, hard. Beth said not to trust him. She should sever their ties for his sake as well as hers. Only she didn’t want to. She had done nothing wrong, and was tired of being a slave to the fear that no one would believe that.
She swallowed hard. “I think you should kiss me now.”
He pressed his lips to hers so fast that the last words came out muffled. And with that connection the dam that had been barely holding back her want of him sank out of sight.
He turned to her and took her face in his hands and showered her mouth and face with kisses, some careful, others less so. His quick passion said he had not been nearly as blasé the last half hour as he had appeared.
He embraced her and kissed her neck, her shoulder, the bit of skin visible above her pelisse. She knew these pleasures and relinquished herself to them. She enjoyed the sly titillations perking in her blood, and the joyous freedom the sensations gave her.
Even while they kissed he managed to shake off his coats. She felt his body then, strong and hard beneath his shirt. His cravat disappeared and she ventured a small kiss on his neck. He held her there, asking for more, while his hand went to the buttons on her pelisse.