Hope rose inside her and she leaned toward him. “That’s wonderful, Garrett. What did you find? How did you discover it?”
“You and I didn’t take time last night to examine all the documents that were in that hidden packet under the desk. I didn’t even look at them when I returned to the inn last night. Today, when Mr. Ashfield was thumbing through them, I recognized a name on one of the documents.”
“What company was it?”
“Not a company. It was a deed for transfer for the house where I grew up. The house I want to buy. The man whose name is registered on the deed is Mr. Peter Moorshavan. When I asked my friend Wiley about the property, he told me the owner had all but vanished. No one seems to know where Mr. Moorshavan went. I have a feeling he hasn’t been found because there is no such man, and we’ll find proof he’s as fictitious as Mr. Eubury.”
Julia tried to tamp down the excitement that made her stomach jump. “That’s welcome news, Garrett. Now you believe me that the duke has secret companies and obviously secret homes, too.” She stopped and gave him a curious look. “I can understand why the duke might want to keep his ownership in suspect companies a secret, but why would he need a secret home?”
Garrett’s mouth narrowed and he gave her a short, whispered laugh. “First, I have never doubted you, Julia. And the house I want to buy wasn’t a home for anyone. It was a business. He had turned it into a hidden brothel.”
“Oh,” she whispered, unable to think of anything else to say immediately. She knew about such places but had never had a reason to talk about one. That subject was as off-limits for a lady to discuss with a gentleman as was money. “The duke is so morally rigid I find it hard to believe he’d have anything to do with a brothel or a gaming house. It simply doesn’t fit with the man I know.”
“Chances are more of the companies and properties he owns will turn out to be places like this and places that illegally store hordes of gunpowder in stores on busy streets.”
“But I’m still left wondering why would he do this?”
Garrett shrugged. “Men usually do things for either power, money, revenge, or love. I’m hoping we’ll find some answers in the ledger.”
“Sometimes I think people do things simply because they are miserable,” Julia offered. “He seems a very unhappy and trite man. Especially when no one other than me is around. Chatwyn is the only one who can bring a natural smile to his face, and I do think it’s because he wants to believe Chatwyn makes him think that Kitson is still alive.”
“That’s probably why he has such fear of losing Chatwyn. Tell me, did you find anything else in your search of his office that might have bearing on the secret companies?”
“No.” She looked out over the garden, suddenly feeling pensive. “All the other papers in his office were correspondence-type letters, invitations to various events, or of a political nature. I had thought to search his bedchamber and dressing rooms if nothing was found under his desk. He could have a secret compartment under his bed or chest.”
“I can see the idea of doing that doesn’t appeal to you and I don’t think it’s necessary at this point.” He reached over and skimmed the back of his fingers over her jawline to behind her ear, where he lightly caressed the soft skin. There was soothing warmth in his touch. “We may need to do that, but why don’t we see what Mr. Urswick is capable of doing with the ledger first.”
Julia gazed into Garrett’s searching eyes. The sun was warm on her back, but a light breeze had kicked up and was cooling down the air even more. “I don’t know how much time we have. I told you in the letter Mr. Pratt brought me that he was feeling stronger. At least strong enough to engage the tutor for Chatwyn. I know he will come to London as soon as he’s able to travel. He wants to see a new physician that he’s heard about and a new apothecary in hopes of finding a tonic that will help him feel young again.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We will find a way to prove what the duke is doing and confront him about his wrongdoing concerning the explosion in Manchester. In the meantime, this is a safe place for us to meet.”
Her gaze swept down his face to his lips. “Yes,” she said hopefully. Talking to him made it easy for her to believe they might actually pull this off and bring down the duke.
He picked up her hand and squeezed her fingers. His were warm, and his expression was gentle. “Do you want to talk about last night?”
There was a shudder of delight at his mention of their coming together. Her breath seemed to skip. “What is there to say? It was something we both wanted to happen.”
“But I didn’t want it to be so rushed. I didn’t want it to be the place where we were. You should be treated like a lady.”
“No,” she whispered softly. “I had a husband who treated me like a lady—fearful of touching me more than necessary for fear of disturbing my sensibilities. He was determined not to show me passion and expected none from me in return, as though ladies shouldn’t indulge in such intimacies as enjoying the marriage bed with their husbands. I was happy you didn’t treat me like a flower too delicate to fondle. You made me feel passion in a way I knew was possible but had never felt.”
“I hope I always do.”
She smiled shyly as she slipped a strand of hair behind her ear. She hoped so, too. “I suppose I shouldn’t confide something so private to you.”
“You’re still not sure you can trust me, are you?”
“I believe I do.” Julia swallowed hard. “It’s just that I’ve always been at the mercy of what the men in my life want for me. I went from my uncle to my husband dictating my life. I thought that after Kitson died I’d finally be on my own. A widow. Free. Strong and capable of making decisions for myself and my son. But I’m not. My father-in-law rules my life.”
“We are closer in heart than you think, Julia. I understand your feelings. They are the same ones that urged me to leave London and work to make the life I wanted.”
“But you were allowed to do so. I am not. Society has bound a lady’s hands so that everything she has is directed by a man.”
His hand slid around her to the back of her neck and he grasped her nape. “You are free to make your own decisions with me. Tell me, do you want me to kiss you right now? Here in the back garden where passion should be held in check because of the possibility that nosy neighbors might wander over, or the housekeeper might open the back door? Do you want to take the chance on a kiss?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“So do I.”
Garrett moved close to her on the seat. He lowered his head to hers and let his lips fall softly against hers. The contact was undemanding as his lips gently grazed over hers. His kiss felt as wonderful as she’d remembered.
It was a welcoming feeling. His hand moved slowly down her back, around her waist, and up her midriff to her breast. A prickle of shivery warmth tightened her most womanly part, making her ache to be even closer to him. She deepened the kiss, slanting her lips against his and adding pressure. Her hands roved freely over his strong back and shoulders.
Their kisses were deep, and lingering. His caresses were firm and deliberate, causing spirals of delight to shoot through her. Their breaths and sighs of pleasure mingled together. Waves of desire surged inside her.