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“I think you can sneak away for a bit,” Darcy insisted with a flirty laugh. “I would hate for the week to end and you to go home before experiencing some true British hospitality. After all, it could be a long while before I travel to the States.”

Zack was right. He was going to have to make himself plain. “Darcy, I think you’re under the impression that I’m available for relations that extend beyond the office. The truth is, I’m involved with another woman and I don’t think she would appreciate me spending time with you that isn’t business related.”

Darcy fell silent. “You never mentioned a girlfriend. In fact, you told me before this visit that you had no significant woman in your life.”

“I don’t usually talk about my personal life with work colleagues. And frankly, it’s a complicated relationship. She’s been in my life since I was a kid. We’re very close. We’ve had our ups and downs over the years, but last night we decided to give us a real try. I’m sorry if you feel I’ve misled you.”

“Misled me? Taking me to the theater with the president and a supermodel, and not correcting me when I told the bloody press we’re dating is more than misleading.”

So she wasn’t always sunshine and light. That made things easier. “I never indicated that we’re dating. You assumed. The purpose of our outing was to accompany the president. He likes to have someone to talk to in public. Better photo ops. It’s awkward if I’m tagging along as the third wheel. I never considered our outing as anything more than one colleague helping another.”

“Well, then. Absolutely my fault.” She forced the sunshine back in her voice, as if she hadn’t just growled at him in a harpy tone he’d never heard her use before. “Please forgive me. We do have a few details to cover for the formal state dinner, but if you would prefer to work with someone else, I can arrange for another colleague to take my place.”

Why was he constantly surrounded by touchy women? He sighed and deliberately softened his voice. Other than her unwanted flirtation, she’d been extremely competent, and he didn’t want the tongue wagging that would accompany him asking for another liaison to affect her position. “Not at all. Let’s talk tomorrow. I’ll find you at Downing Street later so we can coordinate details.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Mr. Calder. I look forward to it, and thank you for the pleasant evening.”

Thank god they were back to being polite. “Thank you, Ms. Hildebrandt.” As he started to hang up, it occurred to him that Darcy might have information about the manor house the president and his entourage were using. Connor had spoken to the ambassador, but Darcy had helped with the legwork for this trip, including securing their accommodations since the usual digs were under reconstruction. “Wait. While I have you on the phone, can you tell me anything about a series of secret passages we’ve discovered in the manor?”

“Of course,” she replied readily. “That particular house was built nearly three centuries ago. Those passageways were quite common in homes of the wealthy in that period. The servants utilized those paths to come and go without disrupting the household or its guests. Some were even used to move rebels in and out of houses during the Jacobite rebellions and other social upheavals. But you don’t need to worry. A renovation about a decade ago closed off most of the entrances to those passages. They left one for historical purposes. We often give tours there.”

“Ah, that’s interesting. We stumbled onto the entrance and were quite surprised.”

“Really? No one has gotten lost in the passages, I hope.” Darcy sounded concerned. “We supplied the Secret Service with a complete map of the estate in part to avoid that possibility.”

“Not at all,” he assured. But it was interesting to know the Secret Service was well versed in those passages. They would also know what common areas of the house the security cameras captured and how to evade them. “One of the doors merely opened and it surprised a staffer. I was curious. Thank you for explaining. I’ll let them know it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“Now if you want to see secret passageways, I could…” She sighed over the line. “Well, I could recommend several lovely tours for you. There are so many interesting things to see while you’re in London.”

“If I get back for a vacation, I will. Thank you. I’ll see you later, and we’ll settle our schedule for the rest of the week.”

She hung up, and Roman glanced at the device’s screen to check the time. He had a few hours yet before he absolutely had to get on the road. But he needed to wrap up his visit quickly if he wanted to visit the site of Constance’s accident. It wasn’t far, and he could also chat with the local police. If he really hurried, he might even be able to talk to some of the inhabitants of this sleepy village. Maybe someone remembered what happened the night she died.

“Mr. Calder?” A tall, thin man wearing a dark suit under his white lab coat emerged from the hallway.

“Dr. Billings?” He rose to shake the man’s hand.

“Yes, I’m sorry for the delay. I had an unexpected guest,” the doctor explained.

Roman had to smile. The doctor was a man in his sixties who didn’t look at all like the sort to eschew his normal schedule for a flirtation. The woman must have been spectacular. “So I heard.”

The doctor tossed a glance at Yolanda, who grinned. “The gossip mill is running perfectly, I see. I don’t get a lot of unscheduled appointments. We’re a business that thrives on privacy. Most of the public doesn’t even know we’re here. I had to know for certain if she was a reporter sniffing about for a story.”

Roman hadn’t even considered that. Usually he was much more paranoid, and if he’d been spotted that would have been a disaster. Gus was making his brain mushy. “So is she with the press? Because I definitely insist on keeping my visit private.”

The doctor waved off his worry. “Not according to her, and she didn’t mention your name. But just in case, I thought it smart to send her out the back so she doesn’t see you entering. I’m sure she’ll have cleared the building in just a moment. Surprisingly, she wanted to discuss the same patient you’ve inquired about. That certainly doesn’t happen often, especially in an old case where the patient is deceased. She didn’t have the proper paperwork from the family, so of course I couldn’t say much.”

Roman’s every sense went on high alert. “Someone else came today to ask you about Constance Hayes?”

The demand in his tone had the doctor’s eyes widening. “Um, yes. Another American, like you. As I said before, I suspected she was a reporter or perhaps a biographer working on a book. I explained to her that I couldn’t disclose any information withou

t a release from the family. And good luck with that.” His voice went low. “As you know, we’re talking about the mother of the president of the United States.”

“Could you describe this woman to me?” Roman had suspicions. Gus had been too bright this morning. Far too happy and more than willing to talk about anything except her investigation. He should have known her mood was far too good to be true. And his Augustine was precisely the type of woman to turn a scholarly man into a blushing teen with a smile. “Was she gorgeous, tall, have a ridiculous amount of pretty hair? Did she look a bit like a Valkyrie wearing designer clothes and a pair of Louboutins?”

The doctor’s expression turned loopy. “So you know her? She’s beautiful. And charming. I felt bad having to tell her that even if I were allowed to show her the files, they went missing ages ago.”

Roman forced a smile on his face and tamped down his scalding fury. “I see. Did she say where she was going?”

“No. She asked for the loo. I let her use my private toilet. The only other one is out here, and I wanted to avoid her spotting you in case she was a reporter. She didn’t say anything about where she’s headed next. If she hasn’t left yet, you might be able to catch her in the car park.”

“I assure you she’s still here. She’s searching your office even as we speak. And you’re quite right—she doesn’t have the proper clearance from the family to obtain Mrs. Hayes’s medical records. If you’ll lead me to your office, I’ll help you save the sanctity of your files because she’s smart. If she hadn’t been born into one of the wealthiest families in the States, she might have made an excellent con artist.” He withdrew his phone and touched the number that dialed Augustine’s cell. “Come to think of it, con-artistry is a hobby for her.”

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