“Give it back,” I growled, and he raised a brow.
“Finders, keepers, poison.” Then he leaned forward, slow and smug, and pushed my bracelet into his pocket.
My mouth opened, then closed. I blinked in disbelief.
“That makes you a thief.”
He leaned back, unbothered. “I’m heartbroken.” He smirked. “Tell me about these four families. Any idea what they mean?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, weighing whether to throw the book at his head, pull my knife, or let it slide and steal the bracelet back later.
For now, I chose the latter. I might still need his help. “If there were four families, and Alex—my mum’s friend—was an Aldridge,” I thought out loud, “and the tale was connected to Thornhill, then the other three families could be the Thornburys, the Lamonts, and the Marzouqs.”
All of Lilian’s associates. All connected.
Preston hummed thoughtfully and checked the time like he had somewhere better to be. Then he stood, his gaze flicking toward the door.
“Well, the manor’s without its guardian,” he said with a teasing edge. “If you want to take a look around.”
I arched a brow. “For what?”
“We’ve got a mystery on our hands. Don’t tell me you aren’t intrigued.”
I studied him for a split second. Looking around while Lilian was away was smart. But trusting him was something else entirely. I glared down at the death certificate.
“Where did you get this?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
My eyes narrowed. I didn’t need him anyway. I turned and walked toward the door.
“Whoa—whoa—whoa.” Preston’s voice chased after me. “And where are you going?”
I huffed, the sound dry. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I mimicked him, not bothering to turn around as I headed for the stairs, climbing to the third floor.
“Alright, poison,” he called, falling into step beside me. “You win. I’ll show you where I found it, but”—his voice edged—“you owe me.”
I glared up at him in disbelief. “Not a chance, Davenport.”
His hand curled around my arm, stopping me. Something clattered in his grasp, and I looked down to see Lilian’s massive keychain glinting in the golden light of the hallway.
My eyes narrowed sharply. “How did you get this?”
His grin deepened like a secret unspooling. “I have my secrets…you have yours,” he lowered his voice. “But one thing is certain. There are too many rooms in this house for such a short time. I can show you where I found it.” He dangled the keys temptingly.
I tipped my head, pretending to debate his words.
“Let me guess,” I whispered after a moment, letting steel line the edges of my voice. His expression shifted, curiosity sparking behind his lashes. “And if I’m right, it’s you who owes me.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ELODIE
Iinspected the handles of Lilian’s keys as Preston flipped through them. Their designs were still fascinating—each one shaped with strange precision. He chose the one with thorny vines etched along its shaft and slid it into the lock. The adrenaline jolted through my veins when it released with a low click.
“Just so we’re clear,” he muttered as the door creaked inward, “I don’t owe you a thing.”
I spared him a glare. “Not the man of your word, Davenport?” His jaw ticked, but he said nothing. “That’s fine,” I added under my breath, “I wouldn’t want your favour anyway.”
