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So perhaps he’d been right about Tindle from the beginning, and the ousted butler had returned to search Staveley’s study in the dead of night. If so, Marc would bet he’d come away empty handed. He supposed Staveleycouldhave left the conspirators’ code in his study, but the late viscount was found more often in his library than anywhere else. If the code was at Staveley House, odds were it was hidden in the library somewhere. But Tindle would have no way of knowing of Staveley’s eccentricities as he’d never worked fortheman.
Marc pushed back to his full height and peered inside the window. Was more than just the cat missing? That was the question. If Tindle or some other fiend had found what they were looking for, there would be no need to return to Staveley House. But if they hadn’t found anything, odds were they’d return. And Caroline might not be as fortunate thenexttime.
An angry beagle jumped up onto the desk at that moment and barked out thewindow.
Marc shook his head in annoyance. “Where the devil wereyoulast night?” hemuttered.
“The dog keeps mostly to his lordship’s chamber,” Simmons said. “ThenewLord Staveley who’s away at school. Apparently he missestheboy.”
The beagle clearly wasn’t much of a guard dog, but he’d have to do. “Make sure he’s roaming the halls this evening,” Marc said. “Put him right outside this door,infact.”
“Yes, milord,” Simmonsagreed.
“And in the meantime, send for Donnelly to repair the window.” After bidding his loyal servant a farewell, Marc started down to the mews to loop back around to Curzon Street. But just as he was about to step back onto the street, he spotted Caroline’s daughters headed in his direction, the youngest one holding a fluffy white cat in her arms. The older girl, who looked so much like her mother it was startling, seemed to be scowling. So Marc backed into the shadows to let thepairpass.
“--but he foundFluff,” the little girl said, glancing up at theolderone.
“I still don’t like him,” her sister said. “He’s too handsome. No one’s that handsome for noreason.”
The little girl laughed as the pair walked past Marc’s spot, not noticing him. “Youareinamood.”
Why were they alone? Hadn’t Simmons said Carolineandher daughters were out looking for that cat? So where was their mother? He glanced around thecornerand…
Damn it. Bloody Peasemore, of all the goddamned people, had his head tilted toward Caroline’s as though the two of them were the closest of confidants. His heart squeezed at the sight. Her oldest daughter’s words echoed in Marc’s mind. I still don’t like him. He’s too handsome.Though Marc had no opinion on Peasemore’s handsomeness, he did find the girl to be an astute judge of character, which apparently her mother was not. And he’d always thought Caroline to be the most perceptive woman of his acquaintance. That was damnedfrustrating.
There were many things in life Marc could endure. There were many things hehadendured. But he didn’t think losing Caroline to that damned Peasemore was one of those things. In fact, he was entirely certain he couldn’t endure thatatall.
Marc watched as Peasemore escorted Caroline up the steps and into Staveley House, and he ground his teeth together inannoyance.
Perhaps he’d been going about this whole thing the wrong way, trying to protect her from afar. Up close, right beside her…he could protect her much better the closer he was, couldn’t he? There was still the little problem of the fact that she currently hated him, but surely something could be done about that. Something had to be done about that. And before she ended up in Peasemore’s bed instead ofMarc’s.
* * *
After Caroline had cleanedLord Peasemore’s wound and applied Cook’s famed cat-scratch poultice to his cheek, she sent the earl on his way, promising that she would give some thought to his situation. Then she headed to the breakfast room as she was quite famished by that point since she’d forgone breakfast to search Mayfair for LordFluffington.
A swarthy-looking fellow in the corridor, covered in some kind of…well, she wasn’t sure what he was covered in, but he had quite an unfortunate odor about him, strode from the study and nearly collided withCaroline.
Good heavens! Her heart was pounding. “Whoareyou?” she demanded of thestranger.
“Donnelly, ma’am,” he said, his Irish brogue unmistakable as he touched a dirty hand to his cap. “You should be right as rain now,” he added before brushing past her in his path toward the front of thehouse.
Well, that explained absolutely nothing. “Simmons!” she called inannoyance.
A moment later, her borrowed butler appeared in the corridor before her. “Yes,milady?”
She gestured in the direction the butler had just traveled. “Who was that Irishmanjustnow?”
“Donnelly,ma’am.”
Well, the filthy man had said that already. “Not his name.” She didn’t care about his name. She only cared about… “Why exactly is he inmyhome?”
Simmons released a sigh. “The window in the study was broken, Lady Staveley. In the interest of your safety, I took the liberty of summoning Donnelly tofixit.”
The window wasbroken? How in the world had that happened? Fluff, no matter how industrious he was, could not have managed that. “Do you think it’s possible someone broke it onpurpose?”
She pushed past her butler and strode right inside the study. Glancing around, everything seemed to be in its proper place. She walked over to the window in question and frowned. A normal sized man could stand on the other side and peer into the study rathereasily.
“Does something seem to be missing, milady?” Simmons asked, following her intotheroom.
