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“Jack, what are you doing?” she asked a quiet voice.
Yes, Jack, what are you doing?
“I was looking for some paper to write you a quick note.” He crossed the room to the bed and kissed her softly. “It’s getting late. I need to leave before the servants wake.”
She nodded slowly before cupping his face with her hand. “Goodnight, then.”
“When will I...” he let his voice trail off.
“Tomorrow?”
“Perhaps,” he said softly. “I need to check my calendar. As do you.”
She laughed disparagingly. “I believe my calendar is open.”
Her sad tone tugged at his heart as much as he knew it shouldn’t. “You never know when an invitation will appear.”
She smiled but shook her head at the same time. “Highly unlikely.” She paused for a long moment, just staring up at him. “Must you leave so soon?”
What a tempting minx. “Yes, I must leave. It is almost four. The servants will be awake in an hour.”
“Very well.” She pushed the covers off her naked body. “I will see you out.”
“There is no need. I will leave the same way I came in.”
“And how was that, exactly? If you were able to get in, then anyone might be able to also.”
“An unlocked window in your study.” He pulled the covers back over her tempting curves. “The room has become cold again. I will put some coal on the embers to warm you.”
Before she could refuse him, he walked to the fireplace and shoveled more coals into the fire. He then glanced back at her with a smile. “Go back to sleep, darling.”
“Goodnight,” she whispered as he opened the door.
Once out the room, he scanned the hall before moving forward. He had no idea if she kept a footman at the front door all night. Spying around the corner of the stairwell, he noticed nothing but pitch darkness down the steps. Slowly, he tiptoed down just in case a footman was napping instead of keeping watch. When he reached the first floor, he walked past the front door, strolling toward her office in the back of the house. Knowing he had at least an hour, he lit a candle and proceeded to search the room.
After almost thirty minutes of investigating, he found a bundle of receipts. As he shuffled through the pile, he noticed a few related to bills for refurbishing the town home and then a few more interesting items. Receipts from a Lawrence Chatsworth, Esquire in Cornwall. All appeared to be receipts for regular payments of ten pounds, every quarter. Why the devil would she be paying a solicitor? He hated the idea that she was involved in any of their deaths, but looking at the evidence, it could be considered damning. After all, why would she need to keep a solicitor on retainer if not to call upon him quickly should she need him? Yet, he still had no hard evidence to tie her to the poisoning of her late husbands.
He would have to get into her library and search the shelves there. It was doubtful that she would be so sloppy as to leave a book about poisons just lying about the room. Then again, her knowledge may have come from another source. A friend or relative who knew about these types of things...and while he knew firearms, poison was not his area of expertise.
Unfortunately, it was time to pay a visit to the dowager, much as he dreaded it. If anyone knew about poison, it would be her.
CHAPTER 10
Tessa stretched her arms over her head and let out a satisfied sigh. Even as her muscles ached slightly in discomfort, she had never imagined being with a man could feel so good. To have a man bring her to such incredible heights was worth a minor inconvenience. She smiled as she closed her eyes, remembering the sensation of his lips on hers and his tongue flicking her nipples. She could hardly stand the thought of watching the hours go by until he returned to her bed tonight.
A light scrape sounded from the hall. “My lady,” her maid whispered. “Are you awake yet?”
“Yes, Anne. Please come in.” Only after she’d bid her maid entrance did she remember that she was naked under the bedcovers.
“Good morning, ma’am.” Anne brought a tray laden with toast and eggs. “I am glad you were finally able to get some sleep.”
“What do you mean?” Tessa asked in confusion as Anne put the tray on her lap.
“It is almost noon, ma’am.” Anne picked up the discarded night rail without a word and walked toward the linen press.
Noon? “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” How had she slept so long? She normally woke before eight.
“I knew you hadn’t slept well. When I tried to wake you at eight, you didn’t stir so I let you sleep.”
