Of course she had. Olivia had been bending over backward since their arrival to thrust the pair of them together at every opportunity. She had even used some unsubtle maneuvering to sit Dianabeside Giles in the chapel earlier, as if she assumed all that thrusting would suddenly bear fruit. As if they weren’t apples and oranges and the charming duke from Mayfair who could trace his lineage back a thousand years and the cynical forger’s daughter from Clerkenwell who did not even know her own grandparents might suddenly forget all those stark differences to make an unlikely jam.
“How was your ride?” Hugh had insisted they gallop across the fields together the moment the funeral was done so Giles could clear his head.
“It certainly blew the cobwebs out. And before you ask, yes, I do feel better for it.” He shrugged, the tight, pinched expression he had worn since this morning finally gone now that his father was in the ground. “One onerous task is done. Only another nine hundred and ninety-nine to go.” He began to rearrange the stack of books on the desk into a neat tower rather than look at her. “Is Jeremiah still wedded to leaving at the crack of dawn? Only you have barely been here five minutes and it is such a long way to come for a fleeting visit.”
“It cannot be helped. He has business that cannot wait and must be home by Monday.”
“But you and Vee could stay on with Hugh and Minerva… Have a bit of a holiday… See a bit of Shropshire…” The books had ruler-straight edges now but he still refused to meet her gaze. “Use your nitpicking talents to help me finish organizing my paperwork…”
“Ahh—you just want a minion because you don’t want to deal with all that mess yourself.” But she was sorely tempted to stay without the need for any incentive beyond spending more time with him, and that was a worry. More concerning was the strange desire to witness the same need mirrored in Giles’s eyes, but they wereresolutely rooted to the books still. Deflection again? Her silly heart warmed at the prospect. “But alas, that minion cannot be me. I have to be back at the newspaper by Monday, too.”
“Why? Don’t they have other nitpicking grammarians they can call upon?” He gestured to the crumpled pile of papers still clenched against her bosom. “Or are you writing something scandalous for them that cannot wait?” Two dark brows wiggled as his arms folded again because flippant Giles had replaced the vulnerable one. “Is that why you have squirreled yourself away in the farthest corner of my library?” He reached for the corner of the most precarious sheet to take a peek and she instantly tugged it out of the way, making him smile in the most sinful fashion. “I see I have hit the nail on the head! The nitpicker isn’t a nitpicker after all, it seems, but a shameless peddler of gossip exactly as we all suspected. What is it about this time? A tryst? A new mistress? A juicy gambling debt from a dubious establishment?”
She feared her laughter sounded hollow. “Oh, you know me… I am tenacious, and I figure if I keep bombardingThe Tribunewith stories, by the law of averages, one of these days they will have to print one.”
Giles yawned. “That pathetic lie is getting very old when we all know that you, Diana, Goddess of the Hunt and dedicated Hunter of the Truth, always write their most scintillating snippets of gossip.” He pouted. “I’ve confided all sorts to you this last week. I was even beginning to consider you a friend—in the loosest possible sense of the word—but now I see the heartfelt confidences only go one way, I shall have to revert to secrecy again to even things up.”
For a moment, she was tempted to capitulate until she remembered the stakes. Maintaining the translucent lie of the gossip column within their close-knit family group ensured that while they were teasing her about it, they were also distracted from the whole truth. If her sisters discovered what else she did, they would worry about her, and rightly so, because there was no denying ruining the lives of powerful people came with an element of risk.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I merely correct spelling and gr—”
“Liar!” Giles lunged to grab one of her papers and in her panic to snatch it back she sent half of them scattering across the floor. As she scrabbled to gather them up he started to read the sheet he had nabbed, so she caught the hem of his coat, praying he hadn’t grabbed anything important.
“Give that back!”
“Investors beware! As the Camden Union Canal Company is merely the latest moneymaking façade of an infamous serial fraudster…”He paused to grin, swapping the page to his other hand as she wrestled his arm. “It starts well. The first line is catchy, and it certainly hooks the reader.” He pivoted as her fingers grazed the page, stretching his arm way out of her grasp, and started to walk as he read to better dodge her, swatting her flailing hand away like a fly while his long legs ate up the ground.
“The swindle, and be in no doubt the Camden Union Canal Company is a swindle of gargantuan proportions, has already relieved unsuspecting speculators of £120,000 since its inception earlier this summer.” Feeling sick, she watched his suddenly narrowed eyes quickly scan the damning words she had labored far too long over.
“I mean it, Giles! That is private! Give it back now!” He continued reading silently to himself, totally immersed and obliviousto her protestations until he stopped dead and she almost crashed into the back of him as she lunged again.
This time he didn’t fight her and instead, after she had retrieved the page from his suddenly limp fingers, simply stared at her, the cogs of his clever mind turning so fast she could practically hear them whirring. Panic made her babble.
“It’s really nothing. Nothing beyond a silly idea I have been tossing around to while away all the hours in the carriage and—”
“Ahem…” Neither of them had heard Mrs. Townsend approach, and they both jumped in surprise to see her stood in the middle of the library. “I am sorry to interrupt—but dinner is ready. Everyone is already seated and waiting for you.”
“Yes, of course…” Diana nodded like a woodpecker, grateful for the excuse to escape even though the last thing she was now capable of doing was choking down food at a family meal.
She bolted for the door, hugging her notes close while her racing mind scrabbled for an explanation that would sound plausible, trying to ignore the rapid approach of his boots behind her and praying he would keep his suspicions to himself. She had almost made it into the dining room when his big hand caught her elbow on the threshold.
Giles tugged her to face him and blinked at her in shock. “Bloody hell, Diana!”
He blew out a breath, raking a hand through his dark hair as he stared straight into her soul, his expression a cross between sheer disbelief and dismay. “No wonder you are so cagey about what you do atThe Tribune—” Thankfully, he lowered his initial growl to a ragged whisper. “You’re the bloody Sentinel!”
Chapter Twelve
Diana had paced her bedchamber like a caged tiger for hours after dinner, her head spinning and her heart beating nineteen to the dozen.
He knew!
Giles was in no doubt she was the Sentinel and she had no earthly idea what to do about that or, worse, whatheintended to do about it.
She’d denied it, of course. Even managed a brittle laugh as she pitied him for his vivid imagination before Olivia had bustled out to fetch them. Yet she knew he wasn’t fooled for a second. Thank goodness, Giles had kept his own counsel in front of the others throughout dinner and had remained uncharacteristically subdued as they all sat in the drawing room afterward. Her guarding the book she had hastily folded her incendiary notes into because his gaze kept wandering to it.
The others put his lack of conversation down to the dreadful few days he had had and made allowances. After all, he had sacked his steward then buried his father in quick succession. Two ordeals that would take their toll on anyone. Those things still undoubtedlyplayed on his mind, but the intense glances he kept sending her way when nobody else was looking told her she had added to his burdens, and the guilt from that weighed heavy despite his knowing not being her fault.
When Olivia had begun to play the piano, and Vee volunteered to turn the music pages, he had moved beside her on the sofa and waited until everyone was immersed in the tune before whispering in her ear.
