Page 76 of The Paid Companion

“One of the bookcases is actually a hidden door that opens into a linen closet.” He hurried her up the narrow steps. “No one has used it in years. I had almost forgotten about it until I realized that it is where Ibbitts must have hidden when he eavesdropped on our conversations.”

“A secret panel? Really?”

“Really.”

“How thrilling,” she breathed, going swiftly up the steps ahead of him. “Just like in a horrid novel.”

“I see that you find the notion of a hidden door even more stimulating than my lovemaking.”

“Oh, no, truly. It is just that, well, I have never had occasion to make use of a secret doorway.”

“Do not try to make excuses. You have battered my delicate sensibilities quite enough for one night.”

“If you expect me to take that remark as a jest,” she said, “I must tell you that your sense of humor leaves much to be desired.”

“What makes you think I am joking?”

On the balcony, he turned to the left, grasped the edge of a bookcase and tugged. Elenora watched, fascinated, as the entire section of shelving slid aside to reveal a darkened linen closet.

“In you go.” He ushered her inside. “The door in the closet opens onto the hall very close to your bedchamber. I suggest you make haste before Margaret finishes saying good night to Bennett and makes her way upstairs.”

She stepped quickly into the shadows and whirled to face him. “What about you?”

The suspicious gleam disappeared from Arthur’s gaze. He turned coolly thoughtful. “I believe that this is an excellent opportunity for me to have a chat with Bennett. I shall ask him to help me keep an eye on you and Margaret.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Good night, my sweet seductress. Next time I promise to do my utmost to provide you with a more stimulating experience.”

He closed the bookcase door in her face before she could recover from the notion of a “next time.”

24

Arthur went back down the spiral staircase, humming very softly to himself. The combination of guilt, panic and the afterglow of his lovemaking in Elenora’s glorious golden eyes had been priceless.

High time she accepted the blame for toying with his emotions, he thought cheerfully.

The situation in which they were now embroiled had become stunningly more complex with tonight’s events, but in spite of all that had transpired, he was feeling better than he had in a very long time.

Meanwhile, he now had not one but two murders to solve.

At the foot of the staircase he remembered to shove his fingers through his hair, raking it back from his forehead into some semblance of neatness. A quick check of his appearance in the octagonal mirror beside the door assured him that he looked like a man who had been relaxing in the privacy of his library after a busy night on the town.

He surveyed the room. As far as he could tell there was no evidence whatsoever that he had just finished engaging in a bout of wild, reckless passion with his fraudulent fiancée.

He opened the door and went down the corridor, taking his time and making enough noise to ensure that Margaret and Bennett had ample notice of his impending arrival.

The murmur of low voices stopped when he walked into the front hall. Margaret and Bennett were standing very close together. The air of intimacy that surrounded them was unmistakable.

They both looked at him. Margaret’s face was flushed. Bennett wore a bedazzled expression.

“Good evening, Arthur,” Margaret said brightly. “I didn’t know you were still awake.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I’m sure you’re exhausted and anxious to go upstairs to bed.”

“Well, not really—” Margaret began.

Arthur ignored her and looked at Bennett. “I’m having a brandy in the library, sir. Will you join me?”