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When he scanned her gaze, he almost believed her. “You shall be discovered instantly and I do not want scandal in my house.”
If anyone looked closer at him, his connection to Julian could be discovered. Far better for him to remain the strange recluse who scarcely came out of hiding but for the odd social event.
“Your housekeeper did not figure me out. In fact, she believed me to be struggling and regretted not being able to offer help.”
Oh to have the self-assurance of a privileged lady of the ton. It likely did not even pass her notice that her plan might not succeed, that she could not do this. He almost envied such youthful ignorance. Goodness knew, his own innocence had been taken the day his father died. Twenty years spent feeling jaded and dry and angry at a world that would take his father from him. Mrs. Chastity Whitaker had likely known so few hardships in her life that she could not fathom her plan being unsuccessful.
A plan he still did not quite understand.
“What exactly do you think this ridiculous plan will achieve?”
“I can find out more about Mr. Harper’s life. Who this lady he loved was and why someone might wish to harm him. What better way than to spend time with those who worked with him every day? It is the quickest and simplest way to discover what happened.”
“Simplest,” he repeated.
How this could be simple, he did not know. This woman’s mind worked in the most strange, unfathomable way.
“I already had my lady’s maid speak with some of your servants,” she admitted. “They appear unwilling to discuss Mr. Harper.”
Valentine shook his head. For some reason, he was starting to think this plan entirely reasonable. Perhaps it was how attractive she was. Or the distracting quality of her curves. Those eyes could be responsible too. Or most likely the fact she had never had anyone say no to her.
He was going to do it. Utter no. Send her on her way and figure out what had happened to Julian himself. She would be shocked no doubt, angry too if he had discovered anything about her. It took more than the wrath of a duke’s daughter to intimidate him so it would be easily done.
“I must help my sister,” she pleaded. “She is crying and withdrawn. I fear the worst.”
The worst. He doubted she meant it in the way he pictured it. He’d seen the worst when he’d discovered his father’s body. Yet he could not help listening to the jolt of his heart. No matter how much he despised Society ladies, Lady Eleanor in particular was seen as an outsider—a source of gossip and amusement. He knew all too well what that was like.
She and Julian had been innocents in this all and now they were being disparaged and he had no idea what to do to put an end to it.
But it seemed Mrs. Whitaker did.
There were many moments of regret in his life. Leaving his father alone that night. Not asking his sister why she had been so quiet. Taking Mr. Harper to the ball with him.
He suspected he could add this one to his long list too.
“Very well.”
“Very well?”
“You can work here.” He held up a hand before she could squeal a reply. “One month. Nothing more. And if there is any inkling you will be found out, you are gone. I cannot have scandal upon my house.”
Mrs. Whitaker sent an audacious smile his way. “Do not fear, my lord. A month is more than I need to get to the bottom of this.”
Brow arched, he observed the confident tilt of her chin. He could not help but feel this whole thing was going to weave a tangled mess that he did not wish to find himself in and Julian’s death had addled his common sense.
He only hoped it took mere days for her to find something out. A month in her company might be more than he could tolerate.
