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He did not deny inheriting the title had changed him somewhat. Or perhaps it was how their father died. He’d been more than rakish in his youth—he’d been out of control. After realizing his foolishness, he’d tempered his behavior, but he still enjoyed life.
It was not that he did not enjoy it now but continuing down this path left him with a bitter taste. Of course, becoming more involved than he wished to be with Cassie did not help matters. She made him wish—God forbid—to be a better man.
“What happened to Father was a miserable accident.” Noel crammed more bread into his mouth. “An accident,” he repeated, though Luke scarcely made out the words through the mouthful of bread.
He knew that. But his untimely death would not have happened if his father had not wanted more. Sailing to America had been entirely unnecessary but his father had been determined there were better investments out there, better ways to help the family rise to the top. They had not needed more wealth or a higher station. What a waste to have lost his life at sea.
First his father, then Parsons. Life was short. And it was squandered wanting more.
Chapter Five
Cassie enjoyed a good ball as much as the next person though she had to admit she would not be sad to slip out of this one. The heat in the ballroom at Presden had grown to unbearable levels with bodies crammed together tighter than a debutante’s stays.
Twice someone had nearly spilled madeira on her and her delicate gold slippers would be lucky to survive another trampling. Thanks to the rain, no one opted for escaping to the gardens and the windows remained tightly shut.
She dodged a pointy elbow of an elderly gentleman and checked her dance card, lifting it high to peer at it in the muted golden light. Good. She’d managed to avoid any more requests and would be free to slip out at any moment. All she had to do was ensure Luke did not notice her leave.
Easier said than done, though. The man watched her like a hawk, his lips pulled into a knowing smile. He’d always been the determined sort, whether it was seeking out his next conquest or arguing with her over the merits of law reformation, but this was getting a little ridiculous. Could she not even enjoy attending a ball?
Of course, her desire to be present was not entirely dictated by it being the height of the Season and the expectation that she attend. Its proximity to Hunters and Associates did not hurt her eagerness one jot. She could stroll down the street, slip into the building and search for Mr. Harding’s will. The solicitors surely held a copy for their client after allandshe had brushed up on her lockpicking skills so it should be a breeze.
Once she slipped out from Luke’s attentive gaze that was.
She turned to Aunt Sarah, who had opted for eye-catching jewel tones that clashed in a brazen swish of fabric topped with enough feathers to create headpieces for a dozen women. “Viscount Whitehurst is over there, Aunt. I do believe you might enjoy engaging him in conversation.”
Aunt Sarah rose onto tiptoes, her petite height scarcely affording her a view of Luke on the opposite side of the ballroom. Her eyes crinkled. “I heard he called for you yesterday. Are you certain you do not wish for his attention? What a devastatingly strong profile that man has. I should rather like to paint it.”
Cassie had no desire to comment on his strong profile or dwell on his attractiveness. “Perhaps you can go and ask him if he will allow you to?”
“It seems such a shame.” Her aunt sighed so loudly Cassie even heard it over the chatter around her and the strain of the waltz. “I rather enjoy a determined man and you could certainly do worse.”
“I have no need of a husband and I am certain Luke has no interest in me in that way. He has known me forever after all.”
“Even better.” Aunt Sarah gave a wide grin. “He knows you well and you know him. What a perfect match that would be. You know, I very nearly married a family friend of ours. He was so dashing but utterly penniless and—”
“Aunt Sarah, I really must go,” Cassie said firmly.
“Oh yes. Do not get into too much trouble.” She flicked her feathers, hitting a gentleman in the face. “Well, alittletrouble never hurt anyone.” She winked before pressing her way through the crowds toward Luke.
Once her aunt engaged Luke in conversation, Cassie made her way out of the ballroom. Aunt Sarah had more stories than any woman she knew and would keep Luke busy for some time with any luck.
She escaped onto the front street and gulped down a breath of fresh air. The rain had eased, lightly pattering her skin with a refreshing coolness. She tilted her head up briefly to savor it then marched determinedly in the direction of the solicitors’ office. The streets were quiet with the grand houses hosting most of thetonand the rain keeping people inside. She allowed herself a little grin. All the better for her.
A tall building housed the solicitors alongside accountants and some sort of shipping business. No lamps were lit, but with the solicitors being at the front of the building, the street lamp out front would offer enough light to aid her search. She glanced around, slipped her picks out of her concealed pocket and set to work on the front door.
Her pulse made its way down to her fingertips and the cool rain could not defeat the heat slowly spreading its way through her body, making her hands hot. All she needed to do was slip in, read the will and return to the ball. If anyone asked about her slightly damp appearance, she could feign feeling faint and needing the air.
Reading the will was of utmost importance. With Jane not being privy to it, they had to see if there was something being deliberately hidden from her and they had to figure out where the promised dowry had gone. Cassie had known Jane’s brother and he doted on his sister. She had to agree with Jane—there was no chance her brother would have left her out of the will. Something untoward had happened and Cassie was determined to discover what.
When the tumblers of the lock gave way, she resisted the desire to give a triumphant shout. Her practice had not been for naught. She would not likely need to access the viscount’s safe again if she found the will but she hungered to give it another try, so long as blasted Luke did not interrupt her again.
“Who goes there?”
Cassie twisted, released a startled sound and dropped her picks. A watchman hastened down the street toward her, his lamp lifted high. She hesitated, thinking to grab her picks but the man increased his pace. She could not let him see her here, especially with lockpicks in hand. Or almost in hand. What scandal it would be for the daughter of the Duke of Daventry to be breaking into somewhere. She would never be allowed to be part of the investigative society again.
Skirts in hand, she fled around the corner. Her footing gave way as she rounded it, catching on a slippery puddle. She tumbled onto her rear and felt the rip of fabric before she heard the splash.
“Curses!”
