Page 70 of One Dangerous Desire
“No note?”
“Annie didn’t ask to see her. Just inquired if she was at home and well.”
He wanted a note, needed to hold something of May’s in his hand, have her with him to soothe the buzzing in his head and the sickening stew brewing in his gut.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hark.” He thought he was being polite, but she sniffed at the abrupt dismissal before leaving his office.
After managing to get some coffee into a cup, he took a long swallow, not minding how the liquid seared his palate. He nudged aside the stack of documents from Ashworth, then pushed them further, finally shoving them off his desk. They hit the carpet with a satisfying thud.
He wanted none of it. Nothing to do with aristocrats and absentee fathers, ghosts of a past from which he’d worked so hard to extricate himself.
Why now? Why—when he finally had his future before him, when May had agreed to become his wife—did the past have the gall to rise up and thwart him? George Cross and Reginald Leighton deserved each other. Cowards who’d abandoned his mother. How dare either of them expect anything from him now, be it money or sympathy or two minutes of his bloody time?
“THERE’S A STYLISHyoung lady,” Mr. Graves intoned approvingly as May stepped into the drawing room.
As quickly as she’d ever managed it, May had bathed, pressed herself into a corset, laced and hooked on a fashionable new day dress, and rushed back downstairs to meet with him. Before discussing their plan to assist Rex and deal with Mr. Cross, Graves insisted she change out of Rex’s dress shirt prior to her father’s return home.
“Now that I’m properly attired, let’s discuss our plan.”
He gestured for her to take a seat, but she hated the idea of sitting still. Her body was thrumming with anxiety and the need to act, to know that she’d done something to aid Rex before seeing him again.
“I’ve contacted an inquiry agency here in London. My telegram should be in their hands now, and I expect one of the detectives to call on me directly.”
“How soon do you think he can gather enough information to convict Mr. Cross?” Waiting was unbearable. Hadn’t she and Rex waited long enough to be together?
Graves offered her an amused grin. “You may be more impatient than your father, Miss Sedgwick.” He picked up a teacup and took a sip before answering her question. “We can always offer an additional sum for haste.”
“We must, Mr. Graves.” May leaned forward to emphasize how important the task was to her. “Whatever it takes.”
“Has this man threatened you? Or are your fears for Mr. Leighton?”
May recalled the jagged abrasion on Rex’s cheek, the ugly bruise marring the strong lines of his handsome face. What sort of father would pay men to harm his own son?
“My concern is for Rex and for our future. He’s suffered enough. I want to bring him a little peace.”
Graves nodded as if he understood, as if peace was what he sought too. “Then you shall, my dear Miss Sedgwick.”
A comfortable moment of silence passed between them, and May recognized that Graves’s dour, practical nature had always been the calm in the face of her father’s stormy personality. She’d never felt more grateful for it.
“Thank you, Mr. Gra—”
Before she could finish her sentence, the drawing room door slid open, and her father strode into the room.
“Well, don’t you two look cozy? What are you plotting?” He marched to the center the room and glowered at her, as if his grim look would cause her to burst into a confession.
May had much to say to her father and wasn’t sure where to begin. She stepped forward to face him, toe to toe. “It concerns Mr. Leighton, Papa. Mr. Graves is assisting me with a matter that will benefit him.”
“You’ve made your choice, then?” Her father tsked as if disappointed in her.
“My heart made the choice many years ago.” She reached for him, but he clasped his hands behind his back. “I hope you can be happy for me, for us.”
“And what of the store, my girl? You’re my heir. Sedgwick’s is your inheritance. Does that not signify?”
She turned to Mr. Graves with a questioning lift of her brow, and he nodded encouragingly.
“I wish to learn from Mr. Graves and assist with the London store as much as I’m able.” May squared her shoulders and looked into eyes the same blue shade as her own. “But I won’t be manipulated or forced into an impossible choice.”
Her father tipped his head and looked past her. “You’ve put her up to this, Douglas?”
