Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

W HEN THEY RETURNED to the parlor, Verity poured each of them a glass of brandy. She settled down in a chair, tucking one leg under her. Nathan sat down on the sofa across from her and tried to ignore the luscious picture she made—languid and relaxed, her hair in disarray, her lips reddened and faintly swollen from their kisses.

"Bravo on your performance, Mr. Dunbridge," Verity said. "I would never have expected you to put on such a show."

"I was a trifle afraid you wouldn't realize what I was doing." He felt unaccountably warmed by her compliment.

"Ha! I knew you were up to something though I wasn't sure what."

"You glared at me," he pointed out.

"You tossed me right into that helpless scared female role, of course I glared."

"Well, it seemed more distracting. I was just hoping they didn't know what you're really like." He paused. "The question is, who were they? Why did they attack us? At first I thought they simply wanted to steal our money, but clearly that was not the case. They were after something else."

"Yes. He said, ‘Give them to me.'"

"Is that what he said?" Nathan replied. "Between that scarf and his accent, I couldn't tell what he was saying half the time."

"I think those were his words. You're right—he was difficult to understand. I suppose it could have been ‘give it to me.' Later he said something like ‘tell me.'"

"The other man said that too," Nathan went on. "So...‘give them to me' sounds like they want something we have, but ‘tell me' sounds like they want something we know."

"Maybe they aren't sure whether we possess it or just know something about it," Verity suggested. "But what were they talking about? And who hired them? Those two didn't act on their own—they were clearly hired bruisers. I would say it was something to do with one of my investigations, but I don't have any dangerous jobs right now. This Malcolm Douglas case is the only one I've been working on, but none of this fits with his previous comportment or aims."

"True—there's no need to stop us seeking the truth if his claims are valid. He shouldn't have anything to fear." The man had been a bit threatening the last time Nathan saw him, but it had all been about scandal; there had been no hint of violence in it.

"I suppose there could be some proof that your father married Margaret Douglas after your mother, which would make the marriage to Malcolm's mother illegal," Verity mused. "Malcolm might want to get rid of that."

"No," Nathan said flatly, standing up and beginning to pace. "If my father was already married to Margaret Douglas but fell madly in love with my mother, I could believe he might commit bigamy. But he would not have deceived a young woman just to have an affair." Nathan dropped back down in his chair. "Besides, it seems unlikely that Douglas is younger than I am."

"He definitely looks older. Really, more than a couple of years older. That's one reason I find it hard to believe that your father married Margaret on the date Malcolm told us."

"It must be someone else who hired the attackers, someone like...well, like Lord Arden, for instance." Nathan leaned forward, warming to the notion. "What if that guard you pummeled at the ball identified you to Arden afterward? Maybe he suspects you were the thief who stole his brooch, and that is the thing that those men were after."

"Well, the brooch wasn't his ," Verity protested. "Anyway, I don't have it, I gave it back to Lady Bankwater."

"He doesn't know that. For all he knows, you're merely a common jewel thief."

"I'm an un common jewel thief," Verity corrected indignantly. "But you're right. The guard could have described me to Arden, and he could have figured out who I was and where I lived. I wondered about that a bit myself when I saw Arden at a party the next day. He had a rather fierce expression when he looked at me."

"There might be other people whom you have ‘offended' with your past investigations," Nathan offered.

"Of course." She gave a little shrug of one shoulder. "A couple of weeks ago, I discovered that a grocer was selling adulterated flour."

"Flour?" Nathan quirked an eyebrow. "That seems a bit minor for you to deal with."

"It bothered my housekeeper," Verity replied. "Besides, I don't like cheats. A month ago I caught a banker who was unfaithful to his wife. He was quite angry at me, as her father is a very important man and is now uninclined to deal with him. Before that, I caught an embezzler. And of course there was the fellow who tried to steal the duchess's jewels. He swore he'd make sure I got mine in the end. He is in jail, but I imagine he has friends. And there was—"

"Good Gad, Verity. Perhaps I should have asked if there is anyone who doesn't want to harm you."

She let out a little laugh. "I'm sure there must be someone—it's quite a large country." She leaned forward. "The thing is those two men weren't there to hurt me. They were just threatening me in order to make us give them something."

"How do you know they weren't going to cut your throat after they got what they wanted?" Nathan asked.

"Goodness. You have a nasty turn of mind." Verity smiled. "I like that about you."

"Stop trying to deflect all my points with a quip. I'm onto you about that, you know."

She looked at Nathan, startled. "Well, I'm not trying to deflect anything here. It's just..." She broke off, dropping her gaze toward the fireplace. "There is another man who might want to hurt me."

"Who?"

"Lord Stanhope. I saw him at a party a week ago. I didn't think he saw me, but he might have."

"Stanhope? I don't think I know him. Who is he? Why would he want to harm you?"

"He's my stepbrother. The son of the man I killed sixteen years ago."

Nathan let out a long breath. "I see."

"I didn't think Jonathan saw me, and even if he did, there's a good chance he wouldn't recognize me. He was off at school from the time he was nine so we weren't around each other much. Besides, it seems likely that Asquith's rumor of my ‘death' would have made it to Jonathan at some point. Still, I have been careless. I've lingered too long in the ton as Mrs. Billingham."

"Perhaps you should drop the role," Nathan said.

Verity shrugged. "I've already used it on this investigation. I could hardly change roles now."

"Perhaps you shouldn't continue with this investigation."

Verity was taken aback for a moment. "Would you rather I didn't? Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Nathan said quickly. "No, I'd much rather you stayed with me." He realized suddenly how his words had sounded, and color flooded into his cheeks. "You're, um, vital to the investigation. It's just, you know, your safety..." He cleared his throat. "I understand that Lord Stanhope would be angry with you, but that's been a very long time. If he did discover you were alive, why not simply turn you into the authorities? Besides, it doesn't make any sense that the men would be asking you for something."

"Well, I did take my mother's jewelry."

"But surely that would be yours."

"I'm not certain a Stanhope would view it that way," Verity replied. "And there was a diamond ring among the others that had belonged to his mother."

"Even so, he couldn't expect you to have kept the jewels all this time," Nathan argued.

"Maybe not. But maybe he thought he could trace it if I revealed who I'd sold it to. Perhaps that information was what they wanted from me."

"Perhaps. But whoever it is, you're in danger. I don't like the idea of you going out tomorrow by yourself to the museum."

"Nathan, that's what I do for a living. I'm not going to back out on a client."

"I could go with you."

Verity rolled her eyes. "So my client will think I can't handle it on my own? I have to bring a man to protect us? No."

"But—"

She cocked an eyebrow. "Are you trying to tell me that I suddenly can't take care of myself?"

Nathan sighed. "No. Of course not. I just...it worries me."

"It will be in the daytime, not night, and I will be on my guard this time. I'll be fine." She poked a finger at him. "You better be on guard, as well."

"I give you my solemn vow." Nathan smiled.

He spent longer than he should have lingering over his glass of brandy. While Verity had good taste in liquor, it wasn't the quality of the drink that held him well past a polite hour. It was the woman herself; her golden eyes alight as they talked of the mystery of the attack. There was not anything to be said that they hadn't covered already, but Verity seemed happy to go over each detail and explore every option, and there was nothing that Nathan wanted more than to listen to her.

She was entrancing: her voice, her scent, her keen mind enveloped him, pulling him into her world. In the past Nathan had thought that the only reason any gentleman would work was because he needed the money—but seeing how fascinated Verity was by her profession, it made the parties and social engagements he was accustomed to seem boring in comparison. Of course, Verity made everything seem boring in comparison to her. She was the most alive person Nathan had ever known; when he was with her he felt more alive himself. And when they had kissed tonight it had been as if electricity was running through his veins.

Nathan watched Verity's lips as she spoke and it was all he could do not to pull her toward him again. Only the fact that he knew nothing would be there to stop them this time kept him from doing so. Even standing in the middle of a road he had barely been able to keep the reins on his passion. He could not risk going down that path now, here. Pulling his eyes away from her mouth took a physical effort, but Nathan finally swallowed the last of his brandy and bade Verity good night.

He was more alert walking home than usual. He even kept the small iron bar in his hand, just in case. If he was going to be around Verity, perhaps he should acquire a better weapon.

Am I going to continue to be near her? One way or another, this matter would be resolved, and he would have no more reason to see her. Back when they had been staying together at Stonecliffe, Nathan would have been glad to be rid of her, but now the thought was distinctly unappealing.

But he wasn't going to get tangled up in thinking about that now. There were more immediate things he needed to do. Right now there was someone sending miscreants after Verity. It was actually a good thing she had something to keep her inquiring mind occupied tomorrow; Nathan had plans for an investigation all his own.

He couldn't undo what had happened with Verity's stepfather—as much as it infuriated him. The man was dead now and beyond his reach.

But here and now he could protect her. This time, this man, whoever he was, was a villain Nathan would stop.