Page 95 of A Little Bit Dangerous
He was in no doubt how he felt about her.
Had it not been for the group of women watching them and tittering amongst themselves, he would have confessed undying love.
“We need to deal with things here,” he said before his need for her consumed him. “Then I’m taking you home, back to bed.”
She ran her hand over his bicep. “We should make haste.”
And yet a nagging voice in his mind said a night of unbridled passion wouldn’t settle his restless spirit. While Isabella craved independence, he wanted her for his wife. His lifelong companion. But he loved her too much to take her freedom. He needed to think on the matter some more.
Aramis appeared. His dark, dominant countenance had the hostages huddling together like frightened sheep. Doubtless they believed this was hell. “Daventry has sent his agent to fetch the magistrate. He needs our help to prevent the guests leaving.”
While Isabella took the women upstairs to the safety of the conte’s bedchamber, Christian returned to the ballroom.
White sheets covered the dead men. Under threat of being shot for attempting to flee, the guests allowed Sloane to secure their hands with rope.
“They tried to bribe their way to freedom,” Aramis said, his lips curling in contempt. “Most of these men will be set free. Only those who won the auctions will answer for their actions. The others can plead ignorance.”
“Once they arrest Captain Snell, I’m sure more evidence will come to light.” Christian considered Aramis’ tired eyes. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. When I agreed to help Daventry, I thought he’d have me scrolling through documents and cataloguing rare finds.”
Aramis gave an amused snort. “I thought you knew Daventry better than that. The man enjoys watching others risk their necks in the name of justice.”
“Be careful, brother. Daventry is so pleased with your efforts you might find yourself embroiled in his next case.”
“Like hell. There’s no way the man could tempt me to work for him. Every male agent ends up shackled with a wife.” Aramis shuddered like someone had stepped on his grave. “Anyone who can persuade a Chance brother to marry is the devil incarnate.”
Christian laughed, though Aramis had a point. Was Isabella so invested in the case her emotions were heightened? Had the forced proximity led to this outpouring of affection?
An idea formed in his mind. If he was wrong, he risked losing her. Still, if he was wrong, she was never his to begin with.
Two hours passed before the magistrate arrived with a dozen constables. Daventry had already sent his men to the conte’s study to fetch paper and ink. Consequently, everyone presented the magistrate with written statements.
“What will happen to the ladies upstairs, my lord?” Isabella asked the Home Secretary when he arrived to oversee the proceedings.
Lord Melbourne sought to offer every reassurance. “Those who wish to return home will be allowed to do so. Those who wish to remain in England will be found respectable employment.” He turned to Daventry and gave him a congratulatory slap on the back. “Well, in an effort to find a murderer, you uncovered a smuggling ring. Are we certain Lord Oldman is involved?”
“Oldman is nothing more than a naive fool with a temper,” Daventry said with conviction. “Should that prove to be the case, I shall address his mistreatment of his staff.”
Lord Melbourne gestured to the body being examined by the coroner. “Do you think Sir Geoffrey killed the girl because she knew about the auction?”
Isabella cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon, but I believe my father was innocent of that crime. I fear the real culprit is alive and well and has nothing to do with smuggling.”
Daventry frowned. “Would you care to explain your theory?”
“Sir, if I may be excused, I should like to apprehend the villain. It shouldn’t be difficult to gain a confession. Mr Chance will accompany me.”
Daventry grinned. “And which Mr Chance would that be?”
“Every damn one of us,” Aaron interjected. “We’re not letting Miss Lawton out of our sight until the murderer is caught.”
Christian glanced at his brothers gathered around in a gesture of solidarity. “Let’s pray we catch the murderer within the hour.” Dawn would soon be upon them. He needed to be alone with Isabella, to hold her close before he offered her an ultimatum. “We all need a stiff drink and a good night’s sleep.”
Daventry agreed. “I shall look forward to reading the villain’s confession, though I have a strange suspicion who it might be.”
By the time they reached Great Russell Street, the sun had breached the misty horizon. The journey in Aaron’s carriage was a test of Christian’s resolve. While his brothers looked on, he held Isabella close, kissed her brow and stroked her hair.
Aaron looked to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he said nothing until the carriage stopped outside the British Museum. “How do you mean to gain a confession, madam?”
Isabella smiled. “As you’re all here, I thought intimidation might do the trick. It’s that, or I pretend to be the dead woman risen from the grave.”
