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Chastity rose from Cassie’s bed, moving with that sensuous languidness that seemed to shadow her wherever she went. Cassie did not think she even did it intentionally, but she could not help envy it. After all, if she acted and spoke like her sister, maybe Luke would have been more interested in kissing her.
No! What a foolish thought. She shook it away. She did not want Luke kissing her or any other man for that matter. A moment of silliness could have ruined everything. If she wanted to follow in her mother’s footsteps and help others, she could not be married for goodness sakes. All the duties of being a wife would dominate her time and she could not think of anything more dull.
What luck it was that her father had not insisted she marry one of the first proposals that came along after her debut. Her mother might have wished her married before joining her investigative society but she had no desire to share her time with a husband.
Her sister took her face in her hands. “I should not be letting you go. You are too young.”
“I’m a grown woman,” Cassie protested and resisted rolling her eyes.
“You were always Mother’s baby,” Chastity murmured and sighed.
Yes, Cassie knew that far too well. Even people of thetoncould scarcely believe she was out in Society. Even when she spoke complete sense, she noticed people giving her that tilted head and softened expression that one would give a young child.Goodness, how amazing—the little one is so clever!
Yuck.
Chastity released her face. “Just remember what I taught you. Poke the eyes, then hit him in the nose with a knee.”
Cassie caught Demeter shudder out of the corner of her eye. “I p-pray you do not have to use such a skill, Little One.”
“Well, I have only had to use it once or twice...” Chastity grinned.
Cassie gasped. “You never told me that!”
“I do not tell you everything.”
“You should. We are sisters,” Cassie protested. And now she found herself desperate to know the story behind her sister attacking not one but two men. “Anyway, I think it unlikely I shall have to use it.”
“You are assuming, of course, Cassie will be attacked by a man,” Eleanor pointed out. “What if it’s a woman?”
“It will not be because, dear Eleanor,” Chastity said, “men are brutes.”
Eleanor sniffed. “I have certainly known a vile woman or two in my time.”
Cassie shared a glance with Demeter. Being the eldest sister, Chastity had witnessed less of the vileness to which Eleanor had been exposed, despite her having been claimed as the natural daughter of the duke. It had come from both sexes unfortunately. Chastity’s viewpoint was most likely skewed by her late-husband’s behavior, who had been far from gentlemanly.
“It matters not.” Cassie waved a hand. “I have planned this most carefully. I know exactly where to enter the building so it will just be a case of going through their records. And I most certainly shall not be caught—by man or woman.”
“That’s the spirit.” Chastity cupped Cassie’s face again and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But if anyone does anything to you, be assured no one shall be able to knee them in the groin again.”
Cassie frowned and glanced at Eleanor.
“Because she shall remove their...parts,” her sister whispered.
“Ah.” Cassie removed her sister’s hands, straightened her apron and retrieved her pouch of spare lockpicks to secrete upon her person. “Never fear. Nothing will go wrong this time.”
She spoke with slightly more confidence than she felt but she had done her planning properly this time. No barreling in or getting caught by the wrong person and no viscount Whitehurst to ruin her plans. He had stayed away for days, no doubt terrified she might beg him for a kiss again. Which she most certainly would not. Never.
Never, ever, ever.
From now on, she would focus on this investigation and helping Jane and nothing else.
***
“YOU HAVE YOUR father’s instinct for investments.” Mr. Cunningham scarcely glanced up from the ledger in front of him.
Little beads of sweat gilded the steward’s top lip, no doubt conjured in anticipation of his increased wage this year given the excellent returns. Luke didn’t count him as a greedy man, but when Luke imagined Mr. Cunningham at home, he pictured him hugging bags of money when he slept. What Cunningham did not know about rents, lands and accounts were not worth mentioning. Money was his life.
“Much good it did him,” muttered Luke as he rose from the chair opposite. The sparsely furnished office did not reflect the coin Mr. Cunningham earned from Luke and Mr. Cunningham ignored suggestions that he furnish it more comfortably. Maybe he slept with money bags but that was about it—the man lived in a simple fashion despite his life revolving around the comings and goings of wealth.
