Page 64 of No One's Bride
“See!” Helen pointed at them. “Did you ever expect to hear such praise from Ailsa’s lips?”
“No, my love.” Nicholas shot Sebastian an irate glare. “I just hope you’re not disappointed if they discover they do not suit.”
“Of course they don’t suit. That’s what makes it so marvellous.”
They arrived in Grosvenor Street promptly.
Sebastian drew their attention to Gibbs, who had parked Daventry’s unmarked coach fifty yards from the house. “I’ve papers to collect from the study. Then we shall return to Fortune’s Den until the murderer is caught.”
“Is there a way I might help with your enquiries?” While Nicholas’ voice was as calm as a windless sea, a storm gathered in his eyes. “Helen would feel better if this matter were dealt with quickly. If the truth were brought to light.”
Understanding Nicholas’ need to protect his wife and feel useful, Sebastian thought of the least dangerous thing his friend could do. “You could visit Hibbet’s mother. I’ll have a footman deliver a note to you in the morning with her address and a list of questions.”
Nicholas nodded. “I’ll come to Fortune’s Den and let you know what I discover.”
They said farewell and alighted.
Yanking down the window as the carriage pulled away, Helen shouted, “Take care of each other!”
Miss MacTavish sighed as she watched the vehicle disappear into the night. “I hate lying to her. Helen wants to see ye happy.”
Guilt ate away at him, too. “I’ll explain everything to Nicholas tomorrow evening.” He glanced along the dimly lit street, his attention caught by the wavering shadows. “We shouldn’t linger out here. I fear the murderer may come looking for the spell book.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Ye think the murderer thought Mr Hibbet had the grimoire? Ye think that’s the motive?”
“I don’t know what to think, but every instinct says this entire case revolves around that dratted book.” Taking advantage of any excuse to touch her, he cupped her elbow. “Come. Keep your hood raised until we’re safely inside.”
They entered the house and gave the bemused butler their outdoor apparel. Sebastian had never brought a woman home and acted like it wasn’t a shocking occurrence.
“You may retire, Cumpson. I shall lock the door on my way out.”
Having mastered a butler’s bland expression, it was somewhat surprising when Cumpson smiled. “Will you require refreshment, my lord?”
“We’ll help ourselves.” Noting the pink flush on Miss MacTavish’s cheeks, he added, “We’ve casework to study and may venture outdoors to burn a few documents. If you smell smoke, know there’s no cause for concern.”
Cumpson’s bushy grey brows twitched as if the words carried a salacious undertone. “Yes, my lord. I shan’t trouble you unless you ring for assistance.”
“Before you go, I need you to deliver a note to the coachman waiting in the unmarked vehicle across the street.”
Sebastian meant to warn Gibbs they might be detained for an hour. How long did it take to repeat an incantation beneath a crescent moon?
For some reason, he hoped it took a lifetime.
He quickly scribed a message for Gibbs, then escorted Miss MacTavish to the library to retrieve Michael’s book. While lighting the lamps, he mentioned his brief conversation with Kirkwood.
“Kirkwood agreed to visit tomorrow and examine the tome.” Sebastian closed the door. Intimacy swirled between them the instant they were alone. “Are you cold? Shall I light the fire?” He pictured himself smoothing his hands over her naked body, warming every numb extremity.
“Ye do such menial tasks yerself?” she teased.
“A man should know the basic skills of survival.”
Her gaze dipped to his mouth. “It seems pointless lighting the fire when we’re to venture outdoors.” She ignored the expensive books lining the dark oak cases, studying only him. “Perhaps a dram of brandy will heat our blood.”
His blood was already simmering.
Lust’s insistent call thrummed in every cell, an inner tug urging him to reach for her, hold her, kiss her, fuck and make love.
Despite standing in his impressive library, he had no desire to boast of his rare collection or impress her with his copy of Shakespeare’sVenus and Adonis. She held his complete attention. Nothing he owned compared to the prospect of owning her.
