Chapter 5 #3
“Fie, sir!” the lassie called teasingly, even as she placed aside her book and stood up. “I am too young for you!”
“Not that kind of proposition,” he grumbled, digging in the satchel. “I swear, ye’re precocious A.F.”
“Yep!” Annabelle came skipping up. “I am also open to bribes, if that is what you are considering.”
“Good.” He straightened, holding a book in his hand. “This is Elements of Botany, by Benjamin Smith Barton.”
The teasing light dimmed from the girl’s eyes as soon as her gaze landed on the book, and now he swore she held her breath as she reached for it. “Are there any cacti in it?” she breathed in wonder. “I have always wanted to see a cactus.”
“Well then, ye’re in luck.” He handed the book into her shaking hand, jabbed a finger at a picture, and carefully pulled out a box. “In here is a Opuntia, which the collector I bought it from specifically for its bribing qualities, calls a prickly pear.”
“You have a cactus?” Annabelle had lit up in excitement. “Can I see it?”
Instead of opening the box—which he’d insisted the botanist put it in when the damn thing spiked him through the thumb—Kenneth handed it to her, half glad to be rid of it. “Nay, ye now have a cactus. I’m bribing ye. Go away and leave yer sister and me in private—”
“Kenneth,” Barbara began, but he waved away her objection.
“Och, ye can leave the door open, Annabelle. I just need to speak to yer sister.”
The lass, who now clutched the box and the book to her breast, glanced suspiciously between them. “You came prepared to bribe me?”
“Aye, I was going to bribe ye and Alfred into liking me.”
“He’s mistrustful A.F. What did you bring him?”
Kenneth pulled a wrapped bundle from the satchel. “This is a genuine coon-skinned cap from the mountains of eastern North America. It smells like something died, which it did. Go away.”
The girl’s expression lit. “He is going to love it.” She snatched it from Kenneth’s hold, then began to back away.
“I am going to give it to him, then I will be in the greenhouse, studying my new Opuntia for the next thirty minutes. If Mother catches you here alone with him, I shall pretend I know nothing.”
“You do know nothing.” Barbara rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. “Go away, Annie.”
Annabelle looked as if she might want to object, but glanced down at her new treasures and whirled to dart out of the room. She left the door open by a few inches.
Sighing, Barbara turned back to him with a soft smile. “That really was too kind. You did not need—”
“Love, listen, I dinnae ken how much time we have.” He scooped up her hands, turning her to look at him squarely. If he needed to kneel before the sofa to get her to focus on him, he would. “I have to tell ye something.”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times as if she couldn’t decide what to say, before she finally squeaked, “About canopic jars and gossip rags?”
“And who I really am.”
Barbara’s eyes had gone wide. He squeezed her hands.
So, the truth: but not all of it. She wouldn’t understand the wager, that was Home Office dealings. It was enough to reveal this…wasn’t it?
“Barbara, I’m no’ the frivolous rake London thinks I am—well, I am; my father always said I’d amount to nothing, God rest him—but I am more than that. I work for the Crown, in the Home Office. I was at the Standish Ball that night because I was investigating rumors of the Earl’s treason.”
She sucked in a breath. “Treason? Errol? That is ridiculous!”
“It isnae.” He lowered his chin, his gaze boring into hers, willing her to understand. “Ye ken him as family, and the rumors in the scandal sheets have been vague, but concerning. I was looking for evidence—but I found ye, and ye found the forgeries in his collection.”
“I…I do not understand.” She was shaking her head. “You think all these men might be traitors—wait.” Her intelligent eyes narrowed, beginning to understand. “It is because of the gossip rags, is it not? That is why you guessed Gropington.”
With a quick nod, Kenneth ran through the list of men and the scandals attached to their names.
Part of him thought to minimize the sins involved in a few, but he knew Barbara was rational and quick-witted enough to grasp the ramifications, so he explained everything he could recall from the gossip.
By the end, she was nodding along. “None of those scandals—true or not—resulted in the man’s ruination, not really. Perhaps some of them are no longer welcome in Society for a while, but they still have their standing and wealth, even my cousin.”
Was that relevant? Kenneth stared at her, struggling to catch up with her mind. “Aye, ye’re right. Do ye think that important?”
His Barbie’s eyes were glittering. “I do not know. If it is tied to the forgeries in the Standish and Nutt collection, then perhaps. Financial ruination would require the men to sell off their collections.”
And he finally understood. “Ye’re wondering if the scandals were deliberately started to force the men to liquidate their rarest artifacts?” Such as canopic jars associated with princesses and priestesses.
But Barbara was shaking her head. “No, it cannot be that, because there would not be forgeries in the collections.” Her eyes lit with excitement.
“You are correct, we have to get into the other collections to see. If there are forgeries there—particularly the feminine canopic jars—then the connection will be firm.”
Kenneth felt himself relaxing, relieved and not at all surprised that she grasped the problem and the plan so quickly.
He found himself swaying closer. “Ye dinnae mind?” he murmured, his gaze sweeping over her features. “Helping me on my case?”
“Mind?” She beamed. “It would be more than I dreamed of, Kenneth! I do not exactly want to prove my mother’s cousin a traitor, but perhaps in this way I can help prove him innocent.”
He wanted to tell her it was foolish to go into an investigation looking for a particular outcome, but she looked so damned enthusiastic he couldn’t ruin this for her.
This was adventure; this had to be more invigorating than reading books or embroidering doilies, or whatever ladies of repute got up to.
So he grinned softly and used his hold on her to tug her closer.
“Ye must learn to be circumspect, love. Nae one can ken what we’re working on.
” He dropped his voice to a murmur as his gaze went to her lips.
“Nae one can ken my status as an agent for the Crown. My career—my life—is in yer hands, Barbara.”
Her lips curled—gently, sensually. “Then I shall have to be very careful with my hands, indeed.” She pulled her fingers from his and slid her palms up his forearms with a little shiver of what he hoped was desire.
“Besides, if Missus Whinge blabs to Mother at all, the family will just assume you are calling on me to court me.”
Their mouths were only inches apart now. “Woo ye,” he murmured, distracted by the feel of her waist under his hands.
“I am not rude at all,” she whispered. “I will protect you, Kenneth.”
And when their lips met, they were both smiling.