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“Really?”
She resisted the urge to tell him all that she had done as part of her mother’s investigative group. It wasn’t even the first time she had disguised herself. While most of their adventures did not involve much physical toil, it took courage, intelligence and diligence. It had been a long time since she’d lounged around like a pampered young miss. She doubted he would do anything other than laugh at her, though.
“I am entirely capable of handling this investigation if that is your fear.”
“But you have yet to discover anything?”
“The servants are reluctant to discuss Julian. His manner of death was so shameful, they fear speaking of it.”
His expression hardened, his eyes becoming two flinty dark pools. There was something to be admired in the fact he cared about this servant’s death but why did it anger him so?
“I shall find out more,” she hastened to add. “I just need a little longer. I am certain he was in love with one of the servants—there are three of them who are possibilities. They are around his age and unattached.” She shrugged. “Of course, he could have been having an affair with one of the married ladies.”
“No.”
“Well, we should consider all—”
“No,” he repeated firmly. “He would not have done such a thing.”
Chastity scowled. “I do not see how you could know—”
“I just know, Chastity. Trust me on that.”
The use of her name made her freeze. He said it in such a scolding manner that it made her feel six and ten again and newly married.
And being thoroughly scolded by her husband. Chills ran through her, pooling deep in her stomach and causing it to clench. She fought the need to press a fist to her heart and massage it back into life.
“Chastity?”
She exhaled and felt the blood rush back to her face with the second use of her name—the word softer, touched with concern.
She smiled swiftly. “I shall keep trying to find out what I can, anyway. Just give me time. Everyone gives up their secrets to me eventually.”
“Everyone?”
She nodded and grinned. “Everyone.”
He folded his arms again and eyed her, that quizzical brow still arched. “We shall see.”
“Yes, we shall,” she replied, her chin lifted. If he had any secrets—which she suspected he did given his reclusive manner—she would find those out too. Then he would not be looking at her so smugly.
∞∞∞
When the butler entered the library, Valentine’s gut clenched. Pale-faced and slightly trembling, Mr. Daniels offered a note upon a silver platter. He’d never known the man to be anything other than forever composed. It could only mean one thing—the news was grave indeed.
His thoughts flew to his mother in Italy. At sixty years of age, she enjoyed the warmer weather and busy life there and had seemed in fine health when he saw her last year. But things could change in seven months.
Valentine gestured impatiently and Daniels hastened over, offering out the platter as though it held a venomous snake rather than the delicate imprinted card. He took it and frowned.
“Lady Jameson is here to see me?”
Daniels nodded, the sheen of sweat upon his upper lip glinting.
“To see me?” Valentine repeated.
“With her daughters. Three of them,” Daniels replied, his voice strained.
“Why the devil would they visit with me?”
