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“Don’t make me push you into bed. I’m not that kind of woman.” She tried to break the tension by making a joke of the situation. It went about as well as her attempts to snare rabbits for supper had. He cocked one eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. His very broad, muscular chest, which was visible in the gap of his unbuttoned collar. Her gaze snagged on that enticing hollow.

“I didn’t think you were,” he said gruffly, turning his back to her and tugging off his shirt. Her mouth went dry.

But I could be, she thought to herself. She had slept with one lad while at Girton. The man in question had sworn he loved her and would make it good for her, but he hadn’t promised marriage. She had been foolish enough to believe that sleeping together implied he would propose. Within weeks, his engagement to a girl from his own social set was the talk of campus—and so was her indiscretion.

She hadn’t told a soul. The rumors came from the bounder she’d slept with and his new love.

Imagine how much worse the gossip would be if she were to fall into bed with a notorious duke.

You are not contemplating any such thing, she scolded herself, but she was, she absolutely was curious to find out what his body would feel like on hers. Maybe not in the sexual sense, but she felt the pulse of attraction between her thighs, too.

She was not going to take advantage of a man who was befuddled by a concussion, however, and so she simply waited him out, pointing at the bed until he tucked his long body beneath the blanket. Still wearing his trousers.

“Don’t fall asleep yet. I’ll bring you lunch and medicine for your head. I seem to be very bad luck for you, Lord Lycan—I mean…”

“Lucan. You’re not the first to call me that. You won’t be the last, either. Don’t you know that I am one of the Three Damned Dukes, Miss Ballard?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Here. When you’re done fussing over me, see if you can figure out how much these items might be worth at auction. I made a list of what’s left in the guest rooms. Bad art, mostly. My ancestors had atrocious taste.”

“You’d be surprised what sells,” Evaine said, pocketing the small notebook he held out to her. They were back to the formality of titles and surnames. She turned to leave. His low voice stopped her.

“Miss Ballard? Don’t go near the north wing, and stay out of my father’s suite.”

A shudder coursed through her. “I won’t,” she said, and left her patient to his nap.

Chapter 16

Evaine

Despite his assertion that his family had bad taste in art, Evaine found several pictures that would sell for a good sum at auction based on her memory of similar pieces. Most were minor works, nothing immediately recognizable. A pre-Raphaelite by a student of Dante Gabriel Rossetti was likely the most valuable, while a watercolor of a cardinal was charming and could sell to the right bidder despite its creator being an unknown name.

She made her notes alongside the duke’s in his pocket-sized notebook.

Evaine cast a glance down the hallway at the heavy carved oak doors standing slightly ajar. Yes, he had warned her not to explore in there…but when else was she going to find an opportunity to search for the Marina’s inheritance, if not while Gareth was resting?

She would be quick but thorough. She had two reasons for defying him and searching the house alone. One, she had to find the money Gareth’s father had stolen if she wanted to get a cut of the value. That was their agreement. A percentage of everything she found. That meant none of her notes about the furnishings and paintings were worth more than the daily wage he was paying her—for he had found them, not her.

Two, she owed Marina a resolution if at all possible. There was no way to bring Gareth’s father to justice. But finding her “treasure,” whatever it was, felt essential.

Before she could let the unsettling atmosphere get to her, she boldly strode down the hallway and slipped through the crack. Freighted silence met her.

“Hello?” she whispered into the darkness. Nothing and no one answered.

The first room was as dark as a tomb. It took her a moment to understand why. After her eyes had adjusted, Evaine realized that the main antechamber was enclosed on all sides. Not a single solitary window. A large fireplace stood to the right. She could barely make out the shape of the huge stone mantel.

In the center of the room was a large rectangular object. She went past it and over to one of the doors along the wall to the left. She tried the heavy handle. It turned easily. This door opened into what was clearly a sitting room. Furniture had been draped in white drop cloths that had turned a dull-gray with dust. Red silk wallpaper marched up the plaster walls to the ceiling. Large dark square patches indicated that there had been paintings hanging here at one point. Despite the ornate medallion on the ceiling and elaborate wainscoting, the room felt strangely empty, as if it had been stripped not only of valuables, but of life itself. Soulless.

She flicked back the corner of a drop cloth and coughed in the resulting cloud of dust. Dropping to her knees, she inspected the upholstery and the carvings. Like the console table she had found on the stair landing, the furniture was old and heavy, probably 17th century. The previous duke had clearly eschewed modern tastes in favor of heavy, ornate antiques.

“Someone will pay a good price for antique furniture no matter how ugly you think it is,” she muttered, pushing herself upright. This was a piece that she could lay claim to—although she would not tell Gareth about her trespass until later. For now, she simply made a note of what she had found, and the date.

Evaine continued her inspection, circling the room clockwise. Then she moved into the next room, which had once been a private library, judging from the empty shelves. That collection had apparently been sold but for a few in insignificant tomes lying haphazardly beneath a thick layer of dust.

Beyond that was a bedroom. Despite the way the bed and the sofa were draped in canvas, she could tell it was meant for the lady of the house. This room adjoined a larger one that had a dark-red oriental rug on the floor and an enormous four-poster bed hung with matching red brocade curtains.

The duke summoned me to his room with the red bed hangings⁠—

Evaine flinched and exited quickly. She put her back to the door with her heart pounding. Marina had described this place in her journal. Terrible things had occurred in this room. She felt dirty for having set foot in here.

She closed the door to this room behind her and went back out into the main living area. Now that there was light coming in from the exterior rooms, she could see that the archway beyond the fireplace led into a dining room, while another led to a nursery or child’s bedroom. A crib stood in one corner. A smaller bed sat beside the window. This room was light and cheerful with none of the heavy décor found in the rest of the living area. Evaine found an old stuffed rabbit inside the crib.