His betrothed nearly choked on the soup she had just sipped, throwing him a glance of rebuke before flickering hereyes to ensure his parents had not heard his allusion to their fated kiss. “Shhh.”
Aidan grinned. “Not for a moment, sweet Venus.”
He was not accustomed to flirting with a woman, but she made him think of great poetry and … other things. Soft curves, creamy skin, and bergamot-scented hair tangled around him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, his imagination captured by musings of their approaching wedding night.
“We used to travel up north during the summer but, alas, this year I will remain in London.” Frederick’s warm baritone interrupted Aidan’s musings of Gwen’s intriguing form. There had been a bill of sale for a property in Yorkshire in the sheaf that Aidan had illicitly rifled through.
It was a rude reminder of why he had met the Smythes in the first place. Recollecting the conversation with Trafford and Filminster, Aidan realized this was his opportunity to find out if Smythe had a legitimate reason for his recent activities.
“Father and I were just discussing the purchase of new property to add to our portfolio. Do you have any suggestions, Mr. Smythe?” Aidan watched the other man carefully as he posed his question. It would be heaven-sent if the man admitted he was purchasing something, thus disproving that he was desperate for funds and canceling him as a suspect from their list.
Smythe hesitated, his eyebrows coming together for just a second before responding. “No, I am afraid not. It has been some time since I dealt with any land purchases.”
Aidan’s heart sank.
“Do you intend on any large investments in the near future?”
The question was jarring, causing his father to throw him a cautionary glance. Aidan kept a straight face, but he knewHugh Abbott was aware that he was attempting to gather information.
Frederick Smythe sobered for several seconds, while Aidan prayed he would admit to something—anything—that would provide an explanation for his bills of sale. Then Gwen’s father smiled his customary grin. “What could I possibly purchase? A gentleman has no need of anything but property!”
“Indeed!” agreed Aidan’s mother. “Owning land is the ultimate investment. There is no need of any other.”
Smythe cocked his head, his gaze falling for a fraction of a second, enough for Aidan to know that something was wrong. Then he laughed and banged the table with his hand. “Land is the best investment.”
Next to him, Gwen dropped her head to stare at her bowl of soup. And Aidan knew. He knew the gentleman had a secret, and that it was possible that Gwen knew what it was. Aidan could only hope her involvement was minimal.
Curses!
He had never even contemplated that Gwen might have had some involvement in Smythe’s problems. It was one thing to plot Smythe’s arrest, another to consider his betrothed might be engaged in nefarious activities. The very thought of it made his chest tight.
Lord Moreland chose that moment to shift the subject, flickering his eyes in warning at Aidan. “How is Lord Weston? I know him well from Lords, but I have not seen him since the coronation.”
Smythe grimaced. “My brother is well, but he was called away. Our family home caught fire, you see. He was called away to attend to it.”
Aidan’s parents exclaimed their horror in unison.
“Was anybody hurt?”
“Did the building survive?”
“The staff are well. They managed to rescue the contents, but the west wing was destroyed.”
Aidan’s interest was piqued as the conversation turned to the disaster that had befallen the Smythe family. Could this be why Gwen’s father needed funds?
But no, that did not make sense. The bills of sale demonstrated that Smythe had been selling off for a minimum of the past two months, and news of the fire must have reached his brother after the coronation if Aidan’s own father had met him there.
Aidan felt the deep bite of disappointment that Smythe still did not have a bona fide reason that might remove him from their list of suspects for the killing of Lord Filminster. How much simpler his future would be if he could clear Smythe of the crime!
After dinner, they adjourned together to a small drawing room, and Aidan invited Gwen to the terrace with him. One of the privileges of being betrothed was the allowance of certain concessions, such as walking alone. Many couples took advantage of this in anticipation of their wedding vows. Aidan simply wanted to forget his worries over Smythe’s guilt for even a few minutes. A reprieve from the burden of Lily being in danger to enjoy the company of a beautiful and intelligent woman. Not to mention, to discover the extent of Gwen’s involvement in this intrigue.
Gwen nodded, standing to link her arm with his, and they departed through the French doors, leaving their parents to talk. Despite his desire for respite, Aidan asked the question burning in his mind as soon as they were alone.
“Why is it you are not leaving London this year?”
His companion firmed her chin, watching the last rays of sunset on the horizon as they both stood with their hands upon the stone banister. “My father found the need to sell the property.” Her tone was defensive. “He did not wish todisclose it because land ownership is the mark of a true gentleman.”
“Why?”
