Page 51 of When a Lady Dares
“How so?”
“Based on the barkeep’s account, Carlton’s state of impairment worsened quickly, far more rapidly than one would reasonably expect.”
“You believe he was drugged?”
“It is a strong possibility. Matthew concurs with my assessment. We suspect that Carlton ingested a substance either before or during his time at his club. Once he’d become thoroughly impaired, he may have had help slipping over the edge.”
Sophie digested the facts. “He was murdered.”
“So it would seem.” Jennie set the cup on the table. “Unfortunately, without concrete evidence, we cannot be certain the man’s supposed drowning was not an unfortunate mishap. But the fact remains, yet another death has occurred bearing a connection to Neil Trask’s occult salon, to his blasted sittings. Matthew and I are concerned that you are in danger.”
“That’s most unlikely,” Sophie said quickly, even as an image of the hoodlum’s beady stare flashed through her mind.
“Matthew is considering another avenue of inquiry regarding this case. He…and Campbell…believe the current strategy may carry too great a risk.”
Sophie pulled in a breath. Jennie, of all people, should understand her desire to pursue this case to its conclusion. Jennie had faced down danger in the course of her investigations. She’d mastered her fear and soldiered on. Sophie could do no less.
“The risk is no greater than I would face in any investigation. I’ve established myself with Trask. I’ve earned his trust. His clients are none the wiser as to my true purposes. This should be my decision.”
To Sophie’s surprise, a smile tugged at the corners of Jennie’s mouth. “I suspected you’d hold fast. At this time, I see no reason to change the course of this mission.” A sisterly regard Sophie had come to cherish filled Jennie’s eyes. “But you must assure me that you will exercise caution.”
“Of course. I’ve no desire to find myself in another fix.”
“Indeed. And do try to avoid distractions.” Jennie took another small sip of tea, seeming to collect her thoughts. “I’ll see what I can gather regarding Professor Stanwyck. It is puzzling that a man of reason would seek out Trask’s decidedly irrational services.”
Sophie took another nibble from the scone. What precisely did Jennie know of the events the night before? Mac Campbell’s spies might well have witnessed Stanwyck’s impulsive kiss. Or perhaps not. Jennie was not one to mince words, nor to censor her queries. If she questioned Sophie’s relationship with Stanwyck, whatever she thought that bond might be, she’d likely voice her concerns.
In any case, there was nothing more to the kiss than another means for Stanwyck to demonstrate that his arrogance was unsurpassed in London—quite possibly, in all of the empire. There was nothing more to it than that. The man certainly would not pose a distraction. She knew full well how to keep her head about her, even if she hadn’t figured out how to banish the infuriating rogue from her dreams.
“My thoughts, precisely,” she said. “Uncovering a bit of Stanwyck’s background should prove informative. His true motives are a mystery, though I’m positive his claim that he’s hunting for some long-lost treasure is poppycock.”
Jennie’s brow furrowed, and again, she looked away. “He’s known to be exceedingly clever. If you suspect he’s on to your ruse…”
“There’s no need for concern. Stanwyck will not pose a problem.”
Sophie took another sip from the porcelain cup. If only she believed her own words.
Chapter Sixteen
Considering what she’d endured the night before, Sophie looked more rested than Gavin would’ve anticipated. Indeed, she was even more beautiful in the light of day than she’d been beneath the café’s array of gaslights. She’d selected a tasteful green ensemble for their meeting. Ebony braid on the jacket drew his eye to her waist. He’d bet he could nearly span her middle with his hands, even without the hated corset. His groin hitched at the thought. A small black hat perched atop her honey-gold curls. Only the high-necked blouse with ruffles that brushed her jawline hinted that she attempted to conceal bruises she’d suffered at Jack’s hands. But she held her chin at an angle that put to rest any notion that the incident had left her cowed by fear.
Trask met Gavin as he entered the studio. “Miss Devereaux informed me of your courageous intervention last night when she was set upon by ruffians. I am in your debt.”
“There was nothing remarkable about my actions. Any self-respecting gentleman would’ve done the same. It was fortunate I happened along when I did. If I’d known Miss Devereaux would be without an escort, I would’ve insisted that my driver see her home.” He cocked his head, studying the charlatan’s reaction to his words. “I believed you would see her to her residence. I won’t make that mistake again.”
A muscle in Trask’s jaw tensed. “I generally make a practice of providing safe transport for Miss Devereaux. I regret—”
A mild scoffing escaped Sophie’s lips. “Perhaps you have both forgotten that I am an adult, not a girl in need of a chaperone. While your concern is appreciated, I suffered no lasting harm.”
“Be that as it may, I will ensure you are safely to your residence in the future.” The ice in Trask’s gaze clashed with the concern in his tone. “I will not risk your well-being.”
Bloody ironic. Trask had eagerly dispatched Sophie on a ridiculous but lucrative quest with a near-stranger, to a hotel of all places.Well-being, indeed.
“Thank you.” She turned to Gavin, regarding him with a slight wariness her smile did not hide. “What have you planned for our agenda this afternoon, Professor Stanwyck?”
Professor Stanwyck.The moniker struck his ears with a discordant note, vastly out of tune, given the taste of passion they’d shared. What would it be like to hear his name on her lips, uttered in that throaty, slightly sweet voice of hers?
“I have given this a great deal of thought. It is possible that my father, in a display of his rather unique brand of wit, arranged to have the treasure buried with him. Hidden in his coffin, perhaps. I believe a visit to his final resting place might be in order.”
