Page 18 of Affair

“Half an hour?” Charlotte’s disapproving frown was plainly revealed by the dim, golden glow of the lantern. “I do not know if that will be long enough to go through this entire house.”

Baxter glanced quickly around the empty kitchen. “The sooner we’re finished, the better.”

“Need I remind you, sir, that you are not the one in charge of this affair? You are employed by me and I will give the instructions.”

Baxter brushed past her into the hall. He opened another door and saw an empty sitting room that had no doubt been the province of the housekeeper. “We may as well start with the bedchambers upstairs and work our way back down through the house.”

“Now see here, Mr. St. Ives—”

“Don’t dawdle, Miss Arkendale.” Baxter took the stairs two at a time. “The first rule of housebreaking is to be quick and efficient. Now, then, as I have the lantern, I propose that we work together.”

“Wait for me.” Charlotte’s footsteps sounded lightly on the stairs. “Really, sir, when this is finished, you and I are going to have a serious discussion regarding the precise nature of your duties.”

“Whatever you say, Miss Arkendale.” He turned the corner on the landing and started up the next flight of stairs. “It might save some time if you were to tell me just what we are looking for here tonight.”

“I only wish I knew.” She sounded slightly breathless as she hurried to catch up with him. “I’m hoping something useful will come to light.”

“I was afraid of that.” He paused at the top of the stairs and gazed down the length of the darkened corridor. “The bedchambers, I believe. Shall we start at the end of the hall?”

Charlotte came to a halt beside him and peered into the shadows. “That sounds logical.”

“I am nothing if not logical, Miss Arkendale.”

“Nor am I, Mr. St. Ives.” She lifted her chin and led the way to the door at the end of the corridor.

Baxter followed her into the first bedchamber and set the lantern down on a table. He watched Charlotte swiftly open and close drawers. Her expression was serious and intent. Whatever this was, it was no game to her, he realized.

“May I ask how long you have been pursuing your rather bizarre career, Miss Arkendale?” Baxter halted in front of a wardrobe and opened the door.

“Since shortly after my stepfather was murdered a few years ago.” Charlotte peered into the depths of a dressing table drawer. “My sister and I were left with very little in the way of funds. There are not a great many careers open to ladies. It was either become a governess, which does not provide sufficient income for two, or invent an alternative.”

Baxter pushed aside a row of gowns to check the back of the wardrobe. “Where did you get the inspiration for this particular alternative?”

“My stepfather,” Charlotte said coldly. “Lord Winterbourne. He was a greedy opportunist who took advantage of my mother after she was widowed. He convinced her that he wished to take care of her as well as my sister and myself, but in truth he only wanted to get his hands on her money.”

“I see.”

“My poor mother died within months after Winterbourne married her. I do not think she ever realized what a truly dreadful man he was. But in truth he was a selfish, cruel, unfeeling creature. Neither my sister nor I could mourn him.”

“It does sound as though you are far better off without him,” Baxter said as he tried another wardrobe drawer.

“Infinitely so.” Charlotte went down on her knees beside the bed. “Society is riddled with such despicable liars, Mr. St. Ives. And for the most part women in my mother’s situation are extremely vulnerable. They have very few means by which to ascertain the true facts about a suitor’s background and financial status.”

“So you offer them your services.” Baxter went to the window and probed behind the heavy curtains. “Was your stepfather’s killer found?”

“No.” Charlotte rose to her feet and gazed around the room, searching for another likely hiding place. “Some nameless footpad did the deed.”

How very convenient, Baxter thought. “This business of having one of your clients die on you makes for your second brush with murder in a relatively short span of years. Many people live out their entire lives without ever coming so close to that particular crime even once, let alone twice.”

Charlotte swung around to face him. “Just what are you implying, sir?”

“Merely an observation. Those of us who are interested in science cannot resist noting odd bits of logic and unusual connections.” He was about to let the curtain fall back into place when he saw a slight movement on the other side of the street.

Baxter narrowed his eyes slightly. There was just enough glare reflected from the gas lamp to make out the shadowy figure that slipped through the swirling fog. A servant returning after an evening off from his duties perhaps, Baxter thought.

Or was it someone who had no more business being in this neighborhood than he and Charlotte?

“Is something wrong, Mr. St. Ives? Why are you staring out the window?”

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