Page 23 of Bloodlines and Birthright

Oscar arched his brows, intrigued. “Indeed? Where have you been, Miss Wheeler?”

“Too many places to list them all.” She indicated the teapot. “Are you staying for tea? They cater well to English tourists here and the brew is quite good. Shall I order more?”

“They’re not staying.” Mr. Defoe reached into his inside jacket pocket and removed a cigar case and gold vesta box. “Enough with the pleasantries. The abbot informed me that the book we seek was given to Signore Scala. Adele has informed me that you called on him at Villa Corzoni this morning. Don’t glare at her, Professor. She’s simply doing her job.”

I put up my hands. “I’m not glaring!”

Mr. Defoe grunted. “We have just come from Villa Corzoni ourselves. Signore Scala said he no longer has the book either but cannot recall who he sold it to. That, of course, is a lie.”

As calm as can be, Oscar asked him why he thought so. “You don’t think Signore Scala an honest man?”

Mr. Defoe plugged a cigar between his thin lips and used a match from the vesta to light it. “Adele is good at detecting liars.”

“Particularly men,” she added. “While I wasn’t entirely certain that Signore Scala lied to us, when I recalled your reactions after you left the villa this morning, I came to the conclusion that he had.”

“Our reactions?” Oscar echoed. “I don’t understand.”

“You were in a good mood, Mr. Barratt. I heard you and the professor laughing. You wouldn’t be so happy if the book was lost to you forever.” She picked up her cup, the white of her gloved fingers as pristine as that of the china. “I formed the theory that Signore Scala told you who he sold it to.”

Mr. Defoe removed the cigar from his mouth and blew smoke into the air above Oscar’s head. “And for some reason he didn’t give us the same information.”

“Perhaps he doesn’t like you,” Oscar said.

“He doesn’t have to like me, just my money. He refused it, which in itself is an answer.” He pointed the cigar at Oscar. “You offered him something he needed more than money, and my sources tell me he needs money quite badly.”

“Local gossip may be wrong,” I said. “The villa showed no sign Signore Scala is in financial hardship.”

Mr. Defoe waved off my comment before placing the cigar back into the corner of his mouth. “What did you offer him?”

Oscar barked a laugh. “We’re not telling you.”

“So you did offer him something. Thank you for confirming, Barratt.”

Oscar stood. “Let’s go, Gavin. Miss Wheeler, my invitation to dine with me still stands.”

It was Mr. Defoe’s turn to bark a humorless laugh. “She’s not interested in you, Barratt. She’s far too smart to give up her independence for a handsome face.”

“Lucky for me I’m more than that.” Oscar strode off.

I went to follow, only to double back. “He is more than that, Miss Wheeler. Much more.”

Her eyes flashed at me over the rim of her teacup as she sipped, but it was impossible to read her thoughts on my declaration.

“Careful, Professor.” Mr. Defoe’s lazily droll tone grated my nerves. “If you sell him too well, you may lose him.”

I gave him my fiercest glare, but he merely chuckled around his cigar. “Oscar isn’t for sale.”

“What about the book?” He suddenly leaned forward, all the humor gone from his countenance. He fixed me with an unnerving stare. “I can offer you more money than your patrons. You can fill your entire library with books, if you just tell me where to find the one containing the tattoo spell.”

“I don’t know where it is.”

“But you will find out, won’t you? Scala is going to tell you.”

“If we get our hands on it, we won’t sell the book to you. Good day to you, sir.” I cast another glance at Miss Wheeler, but she simply regarded me levelly, her thoughts still unreadable.

No one would be surprised to learn that darkness made me anxious. Going out in the dark to a strange place ratcheted my anxiety up another notch. I kept alert to my surroundings, but even so, the sudden movement out of the corner of my eye made my heart leap into my throat.

Beside me, Oscar chuckled softly. “It was just the night porter or a guest unable to sleep. We haven’t left the hotel yet.”