Page 17 of The Duke and Lady Scandal
Green amber.
Allie let out a huff of exasperation. The man had been kind enough to tell her she wasn’t a fool. She was absolutely certain her little outburst had changed that assessment.
Of course, what she’d said was true. Green amberwasrare. They’d taken in a vase made of it once, a thousand-year-old beauty crafted in South America, and she’d been heartbroken when her father sold it soon after to a collector.
None of that explained why she’d been possessed with an urge to destroy whatever meager goodwill the detective had for her.
Luckily, they’d never cross paths again, and she was done with blurting and rushing in and making mountains out of molehills.
She set off toward Princes, thankful for the mile-and-a-half walk to put distance between herself and the gruff police detective with injured hands and lovely eyes.
When she reached Trafalgar Square, she got distracted by a cart selling roasted chestnuts and the minute she slowed her pace, a thought popped into her head.
Inspector Drake had tried to warn her about something, and she’d cut him off.
Warn her about what?
“You look a great deal worse for wear, Benedict.”
Drake looked up to find his sister standing over the wingback he’d dropped into as soon as he got home. He hadn’t even heard her come into the townhouse they shared.
“I must have dozed off.” Hours ago, he’d stoked the fire in the grate and slumped into his favorite chair and hadn’t moved since. The dog he’d rescued from M’s townhouse hadn’t moved from where he’d settled near Drake’s chair either.
He reached down to scratch the dog between the ears. Helen suggested they call him Cerberus after the guardian dog of Greek myth. Drake had taken to calling him Bedford after the square where he’d found him.
“I suppose I should be glad you got some rest. I’ve hardly seen you the last few evenings.” Helen worked long hours too, yet she always managed to look entirely put together and ready to take on the next task. Even now, she examined him with a bright, assessing gaze, the way she might a prospective patient at the clinic she practically ran.
“Is that your blood on your clothes or someone else’s?” She bent for a closer look. “Someone clipped the edge of your jaw, didn’t they? There’s the merest hint of a bruise. Those abrasions on your knuckles need to be cleaned properly.”
“Anything else, Doctor Drake?”
“Don’t tease me on that score today.” Sniffing in irritation, she strode to a side table where their chessboard sat. Alma, an elderly cat Helen had rescued months ago, sat in a perfect rounded loaf beside it.
He and Helen played each other at a leisurely pace, but it had been days since either had made a move. Helen selected a pawn as if to move it, but seemed to think better of it and set it down again. Instead, she stroked Alma’s orange-striped fur.
“Dr. Porter reminded me today that I am not a doctor and have no say when it comes to treatment for our patients.”
“Bloody pompous fool. You could be an asset to him if he’d allow it.” Drake sat forward in his chair. “We’ve saved enough between us, Helen. You should apply to medical school—”
“Oh, I fully intend to.” She gestured across the hall to the small room she’d claimed as a study. “I’ve begun working on my application materials, but there will always be those like Porter who believe men should retain the highest rungs of power, whether in medicine or politics or industry.”
He had never met a more capable woman than his sister, but he knew she was right. He also knew society was changing as the new centuryapproached, and he welcomed that change, especially if it meant increased opportunities for many rather than privilege for a very few.
“If we’re lucky, progress will steamroll right over such men.”
She scooped up another of her rescue cats, a kitten she called Milly, and shot him a dubious look as she settled into the chair next to his and gestured toward him. “Are there more injuries I can’t see?”
“Nothing to fuss about.”
His sister made a little grumbling noise as she always did when he deflected one of her questions. “I know you won’t divulge details of your cases, but can you at least tell me if the one that caused you so many sleepless nights the past weeks is at an end?”
“It is.”For the most part.He couldn’t tell her, or anyone, about M, but the conundrum of how to catch the man was ever on his mind.
“Thank goodness for that.”
The relieved sigh his sister let out echoed in Drake’s chest too. He wanted done with any matter involving royals and the sins of the heir to the throne. It cleared the way for other cases.
“And what does Haverstock say about advancement?”
