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Not that he wanted her to change, of course. It did not matter one jot what she did with her life. Let her do this investigation nonsense and be on her way. With any luck, she might really find something useful and he could know for certain what happened to his nephew.
“What should I call you then? Kendall?”
“Good God, you are not a member of one of the gentlemen’s clubs.”
She tilted her head, reminding him how elegant the arch of her neck was. Was it really so difficult for her to just keep her head upright?
“You go to gentlemen’s clubs?”
“Well, I used to.”
Many, many years ago before his father died, and he was living the life of the classic wealthy bachelor. It still made him cringe to think of that time. A life filled with nothing but drinking, dancing, gaming and a few women too. What an utter waste.
“What do your lovers call you?”
He shook his head. Did this woman ever cease being so bold? “You are most certainly not my lover,” he pointed out.
“I just wondered what the women in your life call you.”
“You have lived here long enough to know I have no women in my life.” He gestured about the empty library. “Perhaps it’s because I am so intimidating.” He mimicked her words with a smirk.
“Well, looks like we are stuck with ‘my lord.’”
“Or you may call me Valentine.”
“Valentine,” she repeated, her brows knitting.
“It’s my name.”
“Yes, I know. I was just...trying it out.”
“Will you tell me what you wished to speak about or not?” he snapped. “Are you giving up finally?”
Any more time lingering over how his name sounded on her lips and he was going to stride out of the library and dive into the lake with all his clothes on just to get some sense of sanity.
“Of course not.” She sent a sour look his way. “I spoke to Rose today.”
“Rose?”
“One of the laundry maids.”
He grimaced. If it was one of the servants who remained here to keep things clean and tidy whilst he remained in the country, it was no wonder he didn’t know who that was.
“Anyway, she said she thought Julian was courting a woman from back home.”
“I do not think so.”
“How would you know?” She set her feet on the ground and shoved the footstool away with one foot.
“Well, I—” He eased out a breath. Admitting he knew more of Julian than she realized was not a possibility. “I just suspected.”
“I think I should go and speak with his parents.”
“I think the sheriff did as much.”
“But I might be able to find out more. People like talking to me.”
“As you have said before,” he said dryly. “However, do you not think it would be strange that this maid they have never met, has come to talk of them about their son?”
