Page 72 of Unbound Duchess

“I think I cannot mimic your talent,” he answered dryly.

Solomon shrugged as he adjusted his fingerless olive-green wool gloves.

“Let me do the talking then,” he replied in the same cockney accent. “I will keep Blue distracted once we get to the house and you sneak off and find the evidence we need.”

Laurence took a long look over Solomon’s clothing, then did the same over his own.

“If Blue is a valet in a Mayfair house, are we not dressed a bit…below standards? We look as if we work on the docks,” Laurence questioned.

“That is the point,” Solomon countered, still in character. “In this situation, Blue believes that he is better than us. We are mere laborers, but he is a servant in a grand house. We fluff his ego by acting as if he is the one who is of higher class.”

Laurence raised his brows, surprised at how much thought Solomon had put into his character and the scene about to be performed.

“How much consideration have you put into this?” he asked.

Solomon grinned as he shrugged his shoulders.

“In another life, perhaps I would have tried my hand at being in a theater troupe,” he replied, then his tone grew serious as he said, “Now come on, we are wasting time. The sooner we get into Benedict’s house, the sooner we have proof, and we can be done with this entire thing.”

As suggested, Laurence played his silent part once they found Blue in the bar. He was further impressed by Solomon’s plan as the night wore on, and Benedict’s valet played perfectly into their hands. Solomon bided his time wisely, keeping Blue laughing and drinking just past two, when the house would no doubt be asleep; then Solomon played his part well by casually mentioning the brandy Blue had once baited him with.

Drunk and comfortable with his new friend, Blue’s hazy eyes lit up at the mention, and he extended the invitation for a drink, just as Solomon said he would. As they walked to the house, Laurence trailing a little behind, he could not help but be further impressed by Solomon’s devotion to the act. The way he swaggered next to Blue. The way he kept the man laughing with jokes just dirty enough to make the valet laugh but not offend. It was a skilled dance, and Solomon was performing it well.

“Right now, lads, we must keep quiet,” Blue whispered as they approached the servants’ entrance to Perminton Manor.

“Quiet as church mice, we’ll be,” Solomon whispered back, nudging Blue playfully with his elbow.

A cold chill moved down Laurence’s spine as he entered the house that was once Ellen’s home. He peered up at the family portraits as they walked through the dark, empty halls, wondering if there was anything about the manor Ellen missed.

He could picture her wandering through these halls, smiling and adjusting vases and knick-knacks. Could picture her saying pleasant hellos to the servants that worked there. How comfortable she had once been living there with her father.

His curiosity turned to anger the longer he thought about how it was no longer her home. How her cousin, who she’d said had once been so kind and gentle, had swooped in and taken it from her. Not just the manor, but the joy she had once felt living within it. She had, after all, chosen to leave such a home, rather than stay and marry Benedict.

“Right, lads,” Blue whispered as he opened the study door. “The brandy is in here. I can offer you a tipple, but then you best be on your way. I do not want to risk my master finding strangers in his home. He’d skin me alive if he caught us.”

In the darkness, Laurence cast Solomon a tense look. How was he supposed to go through Benedict’s files if they were only going to be in the room for a few minutes? And chaperoned?

Solomon only winked as Blue opened the door and waved them in with a flourish. Inside, Blue lit two oil lamps, then walked to the drink cart. With his back turned to him, Laurence took the brief opportunity to take in the desk and the shelves that surrounded it. It was surprisingly neat. Not a single paper or pen was left on the desk’s gleaming dark wood surface, and furthermore, not a single book was out of place among the shelves. Upon closer inspection, he even noticed that they were arranged in alphabetical order.

So the devil has a penchant for organization, Laurence silently mused. That would help him when he searched. If he’d still get the opportunity to search. He glanced back at Solomon once more, becoming anxious as he feared they’d gotten so close for nothing.

Perhaps Solomon’s plan was not so well thought out after all.

“Take a drink of this, boys, and tell me what you think,” Blue said quietly, extending two small glasses toward Laurence and Solomon.

Laurence murmured his thanks as he accepted the glass, and downed the sweet liquor. Too sweet, in his opinion, and not properly aged. Still, he and Solomon made a show of being impressed, and Blue, obviously feeling smug and high up in his steps, so graciously offered them another pour.

“My lord has cases of this in the cellar,” he explained. “I will switch out the bottle, and he will never be the wiser.

“Cheeky scoundrel,” Solomon chuckled. “I admire how bold you are.”

Blue grinned proudly, his cheeks flushed with drink.

“I wonder, though, if perhaps we should do more to cover our tracks?” Solomon asked.

Blue’s grin faded a little.

“What do you mean?” he asked.