Page 28 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“As you wish.” Henry took the plate from the table, but he didn’t leave. He just stood there, staring.
“What is it?”
“I am sorry about this discovery.” He nodded at the marriage certificate. “Yet when I found you and Miss Thornton today. The pair of you seemed…”
“What?” William said, fidgeting in the chair far more than was normal to seem at ease.
“I don’t know. Perturbed by my entrance?” Henry offered with a smile.
“It was nothing of the kind. We were just deep in conversation, and your arrival…startled us.”
“In conversation?” Henry asked, raising an eyebrow. His sharp features suddenly appeared more angular than usual, and it made William fidget even more. “Is that what you were doing?”
“Yes,” William said sharply. “Thank you, Henry.”
The dismissal made a smile grow on Henry’s cheeks, but he turned and left, nevertheless. After he had gone, William sighed, sitting back in his chair and looking at the empty seat beside him.
It was all too easy to picture Becca there now, her body turned toward him, those blue eyes bright as she looked at him. She hada habit of teasing him that put him at ease and brought with her a happiness he was not used to.
“God’s wounds, Becca, you’ll be the death of me.” He stood from his seat, only to find himself even more uncomfortable than before; his length stood at attention beneath his trousers, for the desire for her had shot through him. He sat back down again, knowing there was nothing for it but to try and abandon all thoughts of Becca.
It didn’t help, though. He stayed there for some time, pushing all thoughts of her away, but they returned in full force until he was indulging in a fantasy of the two of them on the dining table, pushing the plates and glasses away in their eagerness to get to one another.
“She is my employee. She must stay that way.” He rubbed his temples, trying to convince himself of this thought, even as the imaginings grew worse, and he pictured her clawing his back as he lifted the skirt of her gown.
Chapter 10
“This is incredible,” Becca muttered as she took another of the papers they had gathered from the study and laid it out with the others along the extended dining table. It was such a long table that it suited their purpose much more than any table in the tiny, dark study. Here, she could lay out all the papers in order, piecing together George Dorset’s life as best she could.
She rounded the table, continuously building a picture, aware that as she chatted, the other person in the room with her was quite silent.
“Fortunately, as miserly and as money-grabbing as your father was, he kept brilliant records. All these papers we found in that cupboard are perhaps the most condemning. Did you see this one?”
She turned to face Lord Lancaster, who was sitting in the chair that was usually placed at the head of the table but had been pushed back a little. “This is a description of a scam he did, pretending to be investing in the discovery of the new merman, and bringing a specimen back to London for display at a great exhibition.”
“God’s blood,” Lord Lancaster muttered, taking the paper from her. “He bought into people’s fascinations and interests, didn’the? As well as their own greed for making money, all to satisfy his own lust for cash.”
“I’m afraid he did.” She took the paper back from him and laid it out with the others in order. It was taking some work, but at least now, after an hour of doing this, a life was starting to take shape, something she could write about quite well. “There, what do you think?”
Yet Lord Lancaster didn’t answer. He had his legs crossed in the chair and was staring most fixedly at the table.
“My lord?”
He still didn’t answer, seemingly in a world of his own.
Acting on her instincts, she walked around the table, nearer to him, then perched on the very edge of the table, in the exact spot where he had been staring at. His gaze snapped up to meet hers.
“What are you thinking about so keenly?” she asked with a small smile.
He looked away, clearing his throat as he stood, walking past. When their arms brushed again, she jumped off the table and went to follow him.
“Nothing,” he said in a deep tone.
“You were staring at the table. Thinking of your dinner?”
“Far from it.”
“What then?”
