Page 17 of A Little Bit Dangerous
“I know a few places where you might reside.” His eyes dipped briefly to her shift, his jaw firming in response. He avoided looking at her loose curls. “We’ll discuss it once we’ve visited the shipping office.”
Christian left the room.
Isabella rushed to lock the door so she might dress in peace, but the growl of warring voices reached her ears. This house bred ill will. The last thing she wanted was to cause a problem between the Chance brothers. There had to be a way for them to work separately on the same case.
Quickly dressing before the beastly brother returned, Isabella threw her meagre belongings into a valise, fashioned her hair in a simple knot and crept downstairs.
Tempers had cooled.
The men were talking, not shouting.
“Lawton wants nothing to do with her,” Christian said, the truth of his words causing a small stab to her heart. The world and his dog wanted rid of her. “She’s no threat.”
“I’ll never trust a woman again, let alone one related to that blackguard. When Lawton learns of her connection to you, he will manipulate the situation to his advantage.”
“I can handle Lawton.”
“Can you? It’s taken sixteen years to bury the man.”
“We should have stabbed him in the heart long ago.” Christian spoke like a rogue from the rookeries, not the learned scholar who respected historical artefacts.
“Perhaps,” Aaron Chance said, his tone carrying a hint of regret. “Still, Miss Lawton cannot live in a property either of us owns. It complicates matters.”
Despite a period of silence, Isabella remained hidden in the hall. It paid to be abreast of the facts. Had it not been for her snooping, she would be married to Mr Griffin.
“What if I speak to Mrs Maloney? She always keeps an empty room at the bookshop. No one would know Miss Lawton there.”
“Give Daventry the responsibility. As her employer, he can source accommodation.”
Sensing tempers rising, Isabella gave a discreet cough before entering the drawing room. “I’m ready to leave. Mr Gibbs won’t be here for another half an hour. Would you like me to wait on the street?”
“I’m sure my brother won’t mind if we wait inside for Gibbs,” Christian said before noting the folded white garment in her hand. “Stealing the bed linen, Miss Lawton?” His tone spoke of distrust and amusement.
“It’s my wet shift. I cannot afford to replace it, nor can I afford to make my other clothes damp. I shall carry it with me to the shipping office.”
“Allow me to take it home and have it laundered.” He shot his brother an irate glare. “It’s the least I can do under the circumstances.”
Aaron Chance glanced at the shrouded furniture. Doubtless he’d like to make a bonfire and raze the place to the ground. “We’ll continue this conversation later. There’s no need to secure the door on the way out. I’ve someone coming to change the locks. He should arrive before you leave.”
Without giving her a second glance, he strode out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.
His absence did little to ease the mounting tension.
Christian cursed under his breath, his frustration a tangible energy clawing at the air. “Do not mistake my generosity for weakness, Miss Lawton. I shall find you somewhere comfortable to stay, but after our meeting with Daventry later today, I mean to tell him our working relationship isn’t viable.”
Isabella spoke past the lump in her throat. “I agree, sir. This is an impossible situation. And I do not want to be the cause of any animosity between you and your brother.”
“Aaron is not as uncaring as he seems. But when a man has saved his family from drowning, he does everything possible to ensure his ship is watertight.” Christian sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “I have to respect that.”
“Of course. You owe me nothing, sir.”
His gaze journeyed over her face, his blue eyes softening. “If you were anyone else,” he began wistfully but did not finish the sentence.
She spent the entire journey to the Limestone Basin wondering what he planned to say. If she were anyone else, would he want to work with her, spend hours discussing old artefacts in a bustling coffeehouse? Could they be friends? Enjoy a stroll in the park, maybe even a picnic?
It was just as well her mind kept her occupied because he spent the time staring out of the window, mumbling her father’s name and cursing him to the infernal bowels of hell.
They reached Narrow Street, a lane running parallel to the river, and Mr Gibbs brought the carriage to a halt outside the Bunch of Grapes tavern.
