Chapter 11 #3
Desire unfurled in her belly. The need to feel the glide of his mouth over every inch of her body made it hard to breathe.
“Remember,” he said, removing his handkerchief and wiping blood from his thumb, “I keep a harem of one, and she has a penchant for poetry and peacocks.”
Despite claiming he had a heart of stone, Gabriel knew how to make a woman feel special. “I thought the point of a harem was to choose a partner to suit one’s mood. Does one not limit your options?”
“Not if she surprises me at every turn.”
“I don’t do it on purpose.”
“I know. That’s what makes you unique.”
He offered his arm, and she took it without thinking. One firm rap of the polished brass knocker brought the butler, an efficient man too handsome for his own good. The mere mention of their titles saw them swiftly ushered into the hall.
Sir Randall came to greet them, his white hair and faint Scottish brogue lending him a jovial air. “Did I hear correctly?” His gaze moved from Gabriel to Olivia. “My butler announced you as Lord and Lady Rothley. Are congratulations in order, or has the man made an embarrassing mistake?”
“Your butler was correct,” Gabriel said, his hand settling at Olivia’s back. “Sir Randall, my wife, Lady Rothley.”
“Then allow me to offer my felicitations.” He inclined his head. “May your union bring you every happiness.”
Gabriel’s hand slid lower, a fraction too low. “I’m confident it will.”
Sir Randall clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We’re here to enquire after your former housekeeper, Mrs Hodge,” Gabriel said as they were shown into the baronet’s musty study, though they chose to stand. “She claims to have worked at Canfield Manor. We need to clarify a few facts.”
“Facts?” Sir Randall’s cheeks puffed. “Are you hiring her? You make it sound as though she’s given false references.”
“She’s a witness in a criminal case,” Gabriel said, omitting to mention that his wife was a suspect, “and claims to have been in your employ for fifteen years.”
His eyes narrowed. “Footpads operating in World’s End again? Aye, it’ll only get worse when the nights draw in. Why she’d want to live out there is beyond me. But if Mrs Hodge described the bandits, you may depend on it being right.”
“You were satisfied with her work?” Olivia asked.
“Aye, my lady. Her work was exemplary. My sister Martha had a great fondness for her. Truth be told, I’d have been lost without Mrs Hodge in those last few months.”
Olivia offered her condolences. “Mrs Hodge said she knew it was time to retire when your sister sadly passed.”
Sir Randall glanced at the door before stepping closer. “It helped that Martha left her a small annuity, and a diamond brooch she insisted Mrs Hodge sell. I helped her use the money to buy that cottage out in the back of beyond.”
“Mrs Hodge owns two cottages in World’s End,” Gabriel said.
The man raised his chin. “Aye. She mentioned buying the one next door, but I’ve nae heard from her since she settled there.”
“Do you know what made her choose that area?” He masked the hint of suspicion in his tone with a note of amusement. “Few people would live on a road frequented by thieves or beside a graveyard.”
“I suggested one in Brompton, but she was eager to do the Lord’s work and made the acquaintance of Reverend Clay when he came to take tea with Martha.”
Olivia was a little confused. “She met the rector in town, or did he visit Canfield Manor?”
Sir Randall’s expression grew sombre. “Though the country was the best place for her, Martha insisted on spending her last months in town. Mrs Hodge left her post to act as nurse and paid companion.”
During a brief silence, Sir Randall dabbed a tear from his eye.
“If I may say, you make it sound as though Mrs Hodge is the footpad, nae the witness.”
Olivia wondered how Gabriel would explain their prying, but he carried that quiet air of authority she found so attractive.
“She came across the victim. As the last person to see him alive, naturally, that makes her a person of interest.”
Sir Randall seemed appeased. “Is Daventry so short of agents he’s taken to leaning on friends now?”
“It’s in all our interests to keep the streets safe,” Gabriel replied, an almost predatory look in his eyes. “And there’s a certain thrill that comes with engaging in dangerous pursuits. My crest bears a dragon for a reason.”
It sounded like a veiled warning.
Perhaps he’d noticed the same curious object on the desk, and had begun to doubt Sir Randall’s sincerity. Either way, she felt compelled to offer a similar caution.
“Ridding London of scoundrels is to be our new pastime.” She slipped her fingers around Gabriel’s arm, feeling the solid strength beneath the fine cloth. “Someone must make a stand, and we cannot leave it to politicians.”
Sir Randall hesitated, shifting his weight before saying, “True enough. Useless lot, and nae a backbone between them.”
Her gaze drifted to the desk, to the marble heart resting atop a stack of papers, its polished surface faintly veined with grey. “What a beautiful paperweight.”
Sir Randall smiled. “Aye. Martha had a fondness for the thing, and I cannae bear to part with it. Her late husband gave it to her on their wedding day, said it was a symbol that love is timeless.”
“What a romantic thought.”
He gave a small shrug. “Sentimental nonsense, but she always kept it close.”
Gabriel exhaled. “Some men know how to touch a woman’s heart. The rest of us are left wandering blindly in the dark.”
Sir Randall laughed. “Ye’ve done something right, my lord. It’s nae every day a man’s wife takes his arm while merely standing in a study.”
She felt the muscle in Gabriel’s arm tense beneath her fingers, and he covered her hand with his own. “Perhaps strength in a marriage lies not in gifts, but in finding someone you can depend on.”
The baronet chortled. “’Tis easier on the purse, too.”
Keen to leave, Gabriel thanked the man for his time.
She waited until they were settled inside the carriage before sharing her observations. “Do you know why I asked about the heart?”
“Because it’s a line in your father’s poem.”
“My secret slumbers in this marble heart,” she quoted. “It’s likely just a coincidence. A symbolic reference.”
“A coincidence?” Gabriel raised a brow. “That its owner died the same time as your father? That Mrs Hodge owns a cottage beside the mausoleum, and you have the only key? That I’ve never seen a marble heart before, and her former employer just happens to possess one?”
“You’re right. It does sound odd.”
She expected they’d drive to World’s End to question Mrs Hodge, but Gabriel gave the order for home.
“Home? You don’t think we should question Mrs Hodge about the man she found dead in her cottage?”
“Not today. Whoever orchestrated the attack on you could have a man watching Sir Randall’s house. I’d rather not risk it.”
“You’re being cautious, my lord. Almost as if you can’t bear to lose me.” A teasing smile touched her lips, though the image of his body shielding hers as shots rang out stirred a thrill she ought not to feel.
“Lose the best thing that’s happened to me in years?” He almost smiled, and she suspected the confession had cost him dearly. “As a husband, I may stumble in the dark, but even I know the value of a gift.”