Page 27 of Temptress in Disguise
Mr Sloane led them to the communal office. They stood amongst an eclectic mix of people—drunkards, ladies of the night, a man with a bloody nose, a distraught woman clutching a torn reticule.
Aramis gestured to the imposing gentleman, who was undoubtedly his kin. “Allow me to introduce my brother Aaron.” He turned to the stone-faced fellow and said with a hint of humour, “My wife, Mrs Naomi Chance.”
She did not curtsey.
Aaron did not bow.
“Doubtless you’re worried how this inconvenient marriage will affect your family,” she said, believing a man with Aaron Chance’s reputation would prefer she be direct.
Aaron raised a sardonic brow. “Worrying is a woman’s game, madam. Concern is a less emotive word which carries the desire to find a solution to a pressing problem.”
The fact he saw her as a problem came as no surprise.
You’re the problem, Naomi. You have the appeal of a dormouse. Who on earth would want to marry you? I suppose I’ll have to feed you until I’m in my dotage.
Her stepmother’s words slipped into her mind. But the cruel jibes were not the reason Lydia had shoved clothes into a valise and insisted they flee Hartford Hall in the dead of night. It was the only selfless thing her sister had ever done.
“There is no pressing problem,” Aramis said in her defence. “None that should concern you. We’re married. The focus should be on proving fraud and finding the beast who murdered the theatre manager.”
Mr Sloane was quick to offer his services. “I am at your disposal, Mrs Chance. I have another case, but I’m sure Daventry will demand I spare the time.”
Aramis was quick to refuse the offer. “We don’t need an enquiry agent. I’m more than capable of catching a scoundrel. I’ll not have it said I failed in my duty to protect my wife.”
“A duty you were reluctant to accept,” Mr Sloane countered.
“Did I seem at all hesitant when reciting my vows?”
Keen to defuse any animosity and prove she was in command of her own destiny, Naomi offered her opinion. “My husband is right, Mr Sloane. He is determined, skilled in combat and willing to take risks. Our fates were aligned the moment my father married Melissa Adams. We shall, of course, call at the Hart Street office should we require your assistance.”
Mr Daventry appeared, surprising them all by presuming Aramis and his brothers would be tackling the case. “Together, you should be able to catch the villain. Send Theodore to Northwood to investigate the solicitor who forged Mr Grant’s will while you question those who work at the theatre.”
Aaron Chance muttered a curse. “We’ll not be herded like sheep.”
“It’s merely a logical suggestion. Sloane will attempt to locate Miss Fontaine. I’ve a man watching your apartment, Mrs Chance.” He reached into his brown leather portfolio and handed Aramis a note. “The Home Secretary gives you permission to oversee the case. Suspects will be required to answer your questions or face arrest.”
While her husband read the note, her brother-in-law’s black eyes clouded with suspicion. “I can’t help but think you’re scheming behind the scenes. What if Aramis had refused to marry Miss Grant? What would you have done then?”
Unperturbed, Mr Daventry shrugged. “Sloane would have dealt with Budworth’s murder and the case of fraud. Aramis may have lived to regret never bringing his persecutors to justice.” He glanced at Naomi and smiled. “Instead of raking up the past, consider what happens to Mrs Chance. She needs a safe place to reside. With her sister missing and the manager dead, she may be the villain’s next target.”
Naomi’s heart lurched. “Can I not return to the cottage in Little Chelsea?” It was quiet and quaint. The gardens were vast, filled with trimmed topiary and extravagant mermaid fountains. The views of the countryside reminded her of happy times at home. But the estate was ten miles from Fortune’s Den, and the distance would be a problem when the murder suspects lived in town.
Mr Daventry glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice. “Though Peel sought to eradicate corruption amongst his police force, many here would take a bribe. Whoever killed the manager may target you, madam. For your own safety, you must remain with your husband.”
“I’m sure that’s unnecessary,” she said, slightly panicked. Heat coiled in her stomach whenever she thought about spending time alone with Aramis. The mischievous glint in his eyes had the power to bring a helpless female to her knees.
“Extremely unnecessary,” Aaron Chance added.
Aramis disagreed. “Daventry is right. In getting rid of Naomi, the villain can frame her for murder without fear of rebuttal. But it’s too late to find suitable accommodation.” His gaze dipped to her lips. “We’ll stay with Mrs Maloney tonight. As she’s the closest thing I have to a mother, it’s only right she should meet my wife.”
“It’s too late to wake Mrs Maloney,” Aaron snapped.
Aramis slapped his brother playfully on the back. “Mrs Maloney will curse me to Hades if I wait until tomorrow. Besides, it’s reside at the bookshop or Fortune’s Den.”
Aaron looked like he’d rather deliver milk on a yoke than permit her to cross his threshold. “There’s always Mivart’s hotel.”
“My coachman Gibbs will assist you.” Mr Daventry motioned to the window and the burly man seated atop a black coach. “He and the vehicle are at your disposal. As you’re aware, he’s a valuable asset in battle.”
No one raised an objection.
