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“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Investigating Mr. Foster of course.”
“No.”
“No?”
He took her arm again and dragged her a little way down the corridor. “Go back downstairs. You should not be here.”
“Why not?” She snatched her arm back and put hands to hips. “I was going to find his study. He might have documentation there. Letters. Or even a will.”
Blake shook his head. “I somehow doubt Foster is foolish enough to leave something revealing simply lying around.”
“Look, the meeting failed but we cannot give up.” She put a hand to his arm and tried not to think about the muscles underneath the perfectly cut fabric. “There was an investigation last year...my sister...well...” She waved a hand. “It’s hard to explain but there was a forged will. Do you not think the same thing could have happened here? Mr. Foster forged the will somehow and that is how he has inherited all of this without there being any request to fulfill your aunt’s wishes.”
“Wecan give up.” He gestured between them. “Because there is nowe. I shouldn’t have involved you in this in the first place.”
“You were practically begging me not long ago.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“I do not mind doing it. In fact I—”
“Demeter, Foster could be dangerous.”
“Witnessing his behavior the other day was a little scary, I shall admit, but I hardly think he’s going to do anything actually dangerous. After all, he cannot put all of this in jeopardy.”
Blake sighed and she searched his expression. His shoulders were slightly slumped and tiredness ringed his eyes, as though something weighed heavily upon him. What had changed since yesterday when he’d basically gifted her a dog?
His gaze shifted behind her and his eyes darkened, his lips forming a straight line. She twisted to find a painting behind her. There was nothing extraordinary about it—an attractive landscape revealing a tall church and fields surrounding it. They had a similar one in her father’s house. She looked back to Blake and saw his jaw working.
“What is the matter?”
“This painting—it’s one of the most valuable in the house.”
She didn’t know what to say so she remained silent.
“My aunt wanted it sold upon her death and the fortune gifted to her favorite charity.” His tone held no emotion and it made her shiver because Blake never spoke without some emotion. It was as though the light had gone entirely from him.
“This is why we must find out if there was another will,” she insisted.
“No, Demeter. No ‘we’ about it.”
“I can help you. I already told you I have experience—”
“No.”
“And I can do things you cannot. Your cousin does not know I dress as a man and no one ever suspects a woman anyway.”
“No.”
“You wanted my help,” she reminded him. “You practically blackmailed me.”
“No.”
“You do not know what to do next. I know you do not. If we just—”
“Damn it, Demeter. No.”
