Page 34 of Lady Arabella’s Reluctant Hero

The duchess poured the tea. "She knows the name Linley. But she assumed it was a man."

"How much does she know?" Sebastian asked.

"Very little, which is precisely why it is so valuable. She overheard the name two years ago in connection with a conversation she was not meant to hear. She has carried it since without understanding what it referred to." The duchess set the teapot down. "She also gave me the date."

Sebastian went still. "The date of the fire."

"The night before, to be precise. Which places her at an inn in Buckinghamshire while the men responsible for the fire at your estate a half mile away were finalizing their plans in the next room." The duchess went to take a sip of her tea, but paused to add, "At least, that's what I suspect they were discussing."

Sebastian said nothing for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was carefully controlled. "She can place them there. The night before."

"She can place voices there, no more," the duchess said. "But she heard the name Linley, she heard a Mr. Smith, and she heard them speak of money owed to them once 'Linley' was done. Together with what we already suspect, it is the closest thing to a thread we have ever had."

Sebastian turned to the window. "It's still not proof."

The duchess watched him and said nothing.

The fire at Linley Grange had killed his best friend and had nearly killed her sister. It had, in fact, been intended to kill the duchess's sister. And she'd long suspected that the man behind it was Lord Barrington, her sister's husband. But she'd never been able to prove it.

"Who is she?" he asked.

"That," the duchess said, "I shall tell you when⁠—"

The drawing room door opened without a knock.

Clarissa swept in, Kit a half step behind her.

"Aunt Philippa." Clarissa stopped in front of the duchess's chair. "I have been very patient."

"You have, my dear."

"My brother is involved in something. I don't know what, but I should like to be told."

The duchess regarded her with a mixture of affection and mild exasperation. Kit rocked back on his heels, watching his new wife like the smitten fool that he was.

"Sit down, both of you," she said. "I shall tell you what you need to know."

They sat. Sebastian remained where he was, glowering by the window.

The duchess had opened her mouth to begin when the door opened again.

This time it was Estella, Lord Blackwood's fiancée, who appeared in the doorway with an apologetic smile—and behind her, looking not remotely apologetic, was her friend Miss Thea Evermore.

"Oh!" Estella stopped short at the sight of the room. "I am so sorry, Your Grace. We were coming to call. I didn't realize you had⁠—"

"Come in, dear," the duchess said, because there was clearly no point in doing otherwise.

Estella hurried to Sebastian's side. Thea settled into her favorite armchair near the bookcase.

The duchess looked around her drawing room. Sebastian by the window. Kit and Clarissa on the settee. Estella beside her husband-to-be. Thea in the corner, watching everything with those sharp dark eyes.

"Is Mr. Gage going to walk through that door as well?" the duchess asked. "I should like to know if I need more seats."

"Gage is at the docks," Kit said. "Some business with his new warehouse."

Kit's friend Gage had not been made aware of the full extent of their investigation, but he had been asked to keep an eye on certain comings and goings that could be connected.

The duchess folded her hands in her lap. "Very well. Miss Evermore, might I ask what brings you here?"