Page 111 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
He removed his spectacles from his jacket pocket, then carefully took the paper from her hand. His brow furrowed as he examined the handwritten notes.
“Good God,” he said, more to himself than to Macie.
“What do you make of it?” she asked.
“I suspect my conclusion is the same as yours,” he said, keeping his voice low and measured. “These notations refer to museum pieces he’d acquired.”
“He feared they were forgeries.”
“Where did you find this?”
She let out a slow breath, as if she could calm her accelerated pulse. “My grandfather had hidden them in his study.”
“The letter he refers to might be authentic. Of course, I would require a more detailed examination before making the determination.” He looked over each document again, then handed them back to her. “This page from your grandfather’s journal lays out his suspicions.”
“I should take these to the police.” Macie stared down at the intricate pattern in the lace tablecloth, focusing her thoughts. “I had not wanted to tarnish my grandfather’s repute as a scholar, but it seems I have no choice.”
“Miss Mason, I see his concerns. But no compelling evidence.”
Tension coursed through her body. “Thereisevidence.”
“What have you found?”
“There is proof.”
“You’re quite certain?”
“At least, I think it is evidence. I don’t know entirely what to make of it.” She tucked the documents inside her bag. “I shall notify the authorities in the morning.”
“Before you do, I should take a look at what you’ve uncovered. There may be no need to involve the police.”
Macie’s stomach tightened. Professor Aylesworth would know far better than she how to interpret the letter Nell had discovered. With any luck, she could avoid sullying her grandfather’s legacy.
“I do hope you’re right.”
“Where is it?” He met her gaze. “Where is this proof?”
“Locked safely away in Bennington Manor. I didn’t dare bring it tonight.” She reached for her cup, taking a sip of tea to soothe her raw voice “Perhaps you might meet me there in the morning?”
As he shook his head, she read the concern in his eyes. “Miss Mason, this matter cannot wait.”
Oh, dear.“You think there may be a connection with Professor Smythson’s death?”
“There may be a common thread. If there is, you may be in danger.” He held her gaze. “Once I’ve examined the document you’ve discovered, we can determine if it is, indeed, proof. At that point, we will involve the authorities.” He reached out. With a gentle touch, he brushed an errant tendril of hair behind her ear. “I need you to take me to it.”
*
Sitting alone ata table by the fireplace at the Rogue’s Lair, Finn downed an ale as he waited for Logan to join him. His cousin was behind closed doors in his office, attending to some business or other regarding the tavern accounts.Better him than me. Logan had far more of a head for business than he did. Not to mention the fact that at that moment, he couldn’t even pretend to care about profits and losses and blasted expenses.
Staring down at his drink, he drummed his fingers against the tabletop, as if that might occupy his nervous energy and his thoughts. Despite his best efforts, an image of Macie flashed through his thoughts. Her emerald eyes flashed, seeming to tease him with a promise he knew was most likely lost to him forever.
A foul epithet bellowed by a towering bloke in a dandy’s clothes tore him from his thoughts. The sot hurled darts at a bullseye he had no hope of hitting, becoming louder with each errant throw. More belligerent. Until finally, the man gave up and wound his way to the bar. The Lair’s newest employee, a good-natured barmaid Finn knew only as Carrie, attempted to serve the sot, only to become the target of his angry outburst.
Damn and blast. Finn had had enough. It was bad enough listening to the drunk when he was merely being obnoxious. But now, he was threatening an employee. A lass, no less.
Finn marched up to the sot. “Ye’ve said quite enough. Ye’re not to speak to a lady in such a manner in this pub.”Or any place, for that matter.
The man met his gaze. “And who says?”
