Page 19 of My Kind of Scoundel
“You’re suggesting we live under the same roof again?” Eleanor managed to sound jovial despite the flare of heat in her belly.
“If I’m to help you, I need to keep you close.” His tone lacked the warmth she felt coursing through her blood. “I assume you have nowhere else to go, no relatives to speak of.”
“No. I have no friends or family in town.” She had no one out of town either. Was that why the blackmailer targeted her?
Mr Chance clapped his hands and rubbed them vigorously. “Let us head to my brother’s study. You’ll need to sway him to your cause.” His gaze dipped to the opening of her cloak. “Your feminine charms will give you no advantage. Aaron has eyes for only one woman, but he will listen to reason.”
Aaron Chance was sitting in the dark when they entered his study. His gaze moved over her with cool indifference. “I’m glad to see you’re still breathing, Miss Darrow. Sigmund informed me you had entered the premises.”
Sigmund was their man-of-all-work, a beast of a fellow who dealt with drunken lords and daring intruders.
“They say Sigmund has the nose of a bloodhound. Truth be told, I was expecting to encounter him before I reached the stairs, sir.”
“Theo asked that I grant you a pass.”
Eleanor cast Theodore Chance a sidelong glance. He had been expecting her tonight. Evidently, he wanted to make amends.
“I need to prey on your kindness and beg one more courtesy,” she said, knowing few people would dare to ask Aaron Chance for a favour. “As you know, I cannot go home.”
“I’m sure Theo has told you to use Delphine’s room, and now you seek my permission.” Aaron snatched the crystal glass off the desk and downed what looked like brandy. “I want a detailed account of your problem, Miss Darrow. I’ll not risk my business by harbouring a criminal.”
“You can trust my brother,” Theodore said.
Knowing she had little choice in the matter, Eleanor explained what she kept in the box. The Chance family rallied together when presented with unknown dangers. Aaron Chance’s support was vital if they hoped to find the blackguard who’d broken into her shop.
“We will seek Mr Daventry’s advice and proceed from there,” she said.
Aaron gave a humourless chuckle. “Daventry will guide you, I’m sure. He has a knack for fixing things that are broken.”
“Then you agree Miss Darrow can stay?”
Aaron shrugged. “Who am I to argue with fate?”
Chapter Five
Hart Street, Covent Garden
Office of the Order
As the master of a group of skilled enquiry agents, Lucius Daventry had witnessed many astonishing sights, yet he seemed most intrigued by Miss Darrow’s unusual box.
“Can you describe the man who sold it to you?” Daventry said from behind his imposing desk. His dark eyes narrowed as he closed the secret drawer and placed his thumbs on the wooden appliqués.
“I’m afraid he was quite nondescript, sir.”
Miss Darrow rose from the chair and showed Daventry how to open the drawer. The old blue pelisse she had found in Delphine’s armoire hung loosely from her narrow waist, and she had spent thirty minutes this morning adjusting the hem and sewing a makeshift belt. The teal boots were too big, and she had stuffed the toes with old stockings. Still, she could wear a grain sack and still look exquisite.
“Think, Miss Darrow,” Daventry said in his usual bluntway. “It may be a crucial piece of evidence. The villain who ransacked your shop may have deliberately targeted you.”
“Targeted me?” The lady frowned. “I don’t see how. It was my idea to deliver Lady Summers’ notes. Had she held her tongue, I would not be in this predicament.”
“Lady Summers knows how to use her title to her advantage. The subtle art of persuasion is her forte. And let’s be frank, you have not been entirely honest, madam.”
Theo suspected the same but had decided against forcing a confession. While he had persuaded Miss Darrow to face her fears, he knew she would rather leave London than tackle the culprit.
Theo leant across the arm of his chair and touched Miss Darrow lightly on the forearm. “We’re here to help you, but you must tell us everything you know. Hearing half-truths will hinder our progress.”
“Half-truths lead to flawed reasoning,” Daventry added, though grinned when he heard a click and saw the velvet-lined compartment pop open. “I’ll not risk an agent’s life. And I’m sure Mr Chance wishes to avoid taking another shot to the shoulder.”
