Page 15 of The Last Chance
Miss Lovelace laughed. “You’re not so different from Rothley, then. Perhaps I’ll try my luck at Studland Park. At least I’m friends with Gabriel, not merely his competitor. And I imagine he’ll be keen to discover who killed Lord Howard.”
Hell’s teeth!
Every muscle in Aaron’s abdomen tightened. The thought of her dining with Rothley in an intimate setting roused the devil in him. Rothley would press a lingering kiss to her knuckles and do everything possible to spend the night in her bed.
Daventry did not share his misgivings. “Excellent. Once we’ve given our statements and I’ve convinced the Home Secretary to allow you to conduct an investigation, I shall take you to Studland Park myself. I’m sure Rothley will be accommodating.”
A fool could see Daventry was goading him, manipulating the situation to suit his own purpose. In truth, he had Aaron by the ballocks and was intent on squeezing until they pained him.
“Perhaps we might meet tomorrow, Mr Chance.” The sparkle of hope in Miss Lovelace’s eyes had the power to unnerve him. He would rather hear her scathing retorts and watch her grit her teeth angrily. “You can tell me what you learned at the pawnbroker’s, and I can let you read my ladies’ statements.”
The thought of her spending the night at Rothley’s iniquitous den brought bile to Aaron’s throat. But he was no better than the marquess. Miss Lovelace needed a man she could depend on. A man capable of feeling something other than disdain. A man who’d brave a storm just to glimpse her at the window.
Yet he prayed such a man did not exist.
“Daventry is right,” it pained him to say. “If we mean to clear our names, we must put our differences aside. The upper floor at Fortune’s Den is empty. You may come and go as you please.”
She jerked in response. “You’re inviting me to stay at Fortune’s Den? It might look like we’re lovers, and we conspired to put an end to Lord Howard.”
“I’ll speak to the Home Secretary,” Daventry interjected. “I’m sure he will grant you leave to make your own enquiries. The Chance brothers have proven invaluable in helping to solve prominent cases.”
“We’ll be colleagues,” Aaron said, “not competitors.” Not friends. Not lovers. Not so desperate to sate a craving, they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. “I’m inviting you to stay for a few days. We’ll have the villain in custody by then.”
Cursed saints!
He couldn’t believe the words had left his lips. But she was safer with him. He was as strong as the sturdiest dam. More than capable of keeping the powerful flood of emotions at bay. Not a single drop would spill over, not even in the face of temptation.
Chapter Four
Mr Chance’s bedchamber was on the first floor, nearest the sweeping staircase. Doubtless it was a masculine place with dark furniture and dark walls and dark velvet curtains the colour of his eyes—so black they proved disarming.
He had led Joanna past the door six hours earlier, the alluring scent of wood and subtle spice seeping from his private domain. The arousing smell had remained with her, flooding her nostrils so it felt like he was there, sharing every breath.
“You’ll stay in Delphine’s old room on the upper floor.” He had marched ahead, carrying her valise, keen to keep ten feet between them. “It’s quieter there, and the decor is more to your liking.”
More to the point, it was the furthest room from his.
He didn’t want her at Fortune’s Den. Women were not welcome. His demeanour changed the moment he offered her sanctuary, the muscles in his shoulders bunching with tension, his mouth thinning into a grim line. He had barely spoken since they’d given their statements and waited while the coroner removed Lord Howard’s body to the morgue.
So why his sudden change of heart?
Why bring her here when it was the last thing he wanted?
Mr Chance had flinched when she mentioned staying at Studland Park. He disliked the Marquess of Rothley and was right to air his concerns. Guilt was a ghost haunting the lonely corridors of Gabriel’s mind. Guilt was his constant companion. He didn’t want a wife but would make an exception for her.
I owe it to your brother.
Taking care of you would be my retribution.
As if she would ever choose a life without love.
Gabriel hadn’t promised fidelity or given her a reason to believe their affections might grow in time. They would live separately. She would have money and a grand home miles from town but no hope of finding happiness or a husband who adored her.
Which brought her back to the confounding Mr Chance.
A man who’d denied himself female company for eight years.
Her fiercest defender and her greatest critic.
