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James glanced at a clock that was being used as a bookend. He’d need to leave in about a quarter of an hour if he wanted to be prompt for Lucas’s requested meeting.
Agatha sniffed the air and stood, letting Malcolm vault onto an empty bookshelf. “I’ll leave you to your own company,” she said, leaning on her cane. “I’ll tell the servants not to expect you for supper.”
“I’m sure this won’t take long.”
“One never knows, and if the boy is troubled, you might need to spend some time with him. Besides”—she paused as she reached the doorway and turned around—“it’s not as if you’ve graced the table with your illustrious presence these past few days, anyway.”
A cutting comeback would spoil her magnificent exit, so James just smiled wryly and watched her walk slowly down the hall, her cane thumping softly in time with her footsteps. He’d long since learned that everyone was happier if Agatha got to have the last word at least half the time.
James walked slowly back into the library, picked up the whiskey glass, and tossed contents through the open window. Setting the glass back down on the table, he glanced around the room, and his eyes fell upon the little red book that had been haunting him for days.
He strode to the bookshelf and picked it up, tossing the slim volume from hand to hand. It weighed almost nothing, which seemed ironic, since it had done so much to change his life. And then, in a split-second decision he would never quite understand, he slipped it into his coat pocket.
Much as he detested the book, it somehow made him feel closer to her.
Chapter 22
As Elizabeth approached the late Lord Danbury’s hunting lodge, she chewed nervously on her lower lip, and paused to reread Lady Danbury’s unexpected missive.
Elizabeth—
As you are aware, I am being blackmailed. I believe you might have information that will unearth the villain who has chosen me as his target. Please meet me at Lord Danbury’s hunting lodge at eight this evening.
Yrs,
Agatha, Lady Danbury
Elizabeth couldn’t imagine why Lady Danbury would think she possessed any pertinent information, but she had no reason to be suspicious of the note’s authenticity. She knew Lady D’s handwriting as well as her own, and this was no forgery.
She purposefully had not shared the note with her younger siblings, preferring to tell them that Lady Danbury needed to see her and leave it at that. They knew nothing of the blackmail plots, and Elizabeth hadn’t wanted to worry them, especially since Lady D wanted to meet at such a late hour. It was still quite light out at eight, but unless the countess could conduct her business in mere minutes it would be dark when Elizabeth had to return home.
Elizabeth paused with her hand on the doorknob. There was no carriage in sight, and Lady Danbury’s health did not allow her to walk such distances. If the countess had not yet arrived, then the door was probably locked, and…
The knob turned in her hand.
“How odd,” she murmured, and entered the house.
There was a fire blazing in the hearth, and an elegant supper was laid on the table. Elizabeth walked farther into the room, turning in a slow circle as she took in the preparations. Why would Lady Danbury…
“Lady Danbury?” she called out. “Are you here?”
Elizabeth sensed a presence in a doorway behind her and whirled around.
“No,” James said. “Only me.”
Elizabeth’s hand flew to her mouth. “What are you doing here?” she gasped.
His smile was lopsided. “The same as you, I imagine. Did you receive a note from your brother?”
“Lucas?” she asked, startled. “No, from your aunt.”
“Ah. Then they are all conspiring against us. Here…” He held out a crumpled piece of paper. “Read this.”
Elizabeth unfolded the note and read:
My lord—
Before you leave the district, I beg of you to grant me an audience. There is a matter of some sensitivity about which I should like to ask your advice. It is not something a man would like to discuss with his sisters.
