She stopped resisting and moved forward, curious about his insistence. It wasn’t like him to involve himself in other people’s affairs, but he’d become rather obnoxious with his questions of late. When servants appeared before them, going about their tasks, his touch dropped away but he remained close to her side, shoulder brushing hers occasionally. He led her to the library and to the far corner where a small spiral staircase stood. “The duke has an extensive collection. The section concerning America is up one level.”
“Where’s George?”
“Tobias was restless and they’ve gone out for a long walk. They promised to return at four for tea.”
Beth had never spent much time in the library because of Oliver’s constant presence and had never ventured up the stairs. She shouldn’t be alone with Oliver. She had a reputation to maintain, but the lure of information convinced her the risk to her reputation was worth it.
Oliver gave her a little push, nudging her toward the spiral staircase. The stairs were steep and she had to raise her skirts high with one hand to manage them. Halfway up, he drew closer and gathered the rest of her skirts in his hands. “You won’t fall, I promise.”
Beth hurried up as quickly as she could manage and when she made the top she spun around, keeping her back pressed against the bookshelves. Did he deliberately ignore the rules of how proper people should behave? Yet Oliver made no further move to touch her. He scanned the shelves instead, long fingers running over the spines and plucking volumes from their perches. He thrust three books toward her. “These will do to start. I’ll also peruse the newssheets and see what recent events are reported.”
Then he returned below, pulling papers from a pile on a far table without a backward glance. He spread them out one by one, fingers running over the pages so swiftly that she was sure he could not possibly be reading them. Some he kept, some he discarded, never looking up to see if she needed assistance with the climb down. Since Beth didn’t believe she could manage the stairs, her skirts, and the books on her own, so she sank onto the carpeted rug that covered the walkway floors and opened the first book.
An hour must have flown while she read in her private bird’s-nest perch. There was so much to learn and she was grateful for Oliver’s assistance. He’d given her two slim volumes containing travelers’ recounting and a much-needed book of maps so she might understand the geography. The world intruded and she glanced down at the library floor as another voice joined with Oliver’s in conversation. He and Eamon strolled the room, talking quietly.
Oliver wore another frown. “And you’re sure?”
“Oh, yes. No doubt about it,” Murphy replied. “He’s not staying at the Vulture, but he’s been there toasting the locals and spreading his blunt thickly every night. He’s quite taken with discussing the past and the changes he’s missed.”
They paused right beneath her. “And his servants? What do they say about their employer?”
“Not much. Got the feeling Turner took them on after he arrived back in
England. He’s got rather odd views about women. Expects them to act prim, but I heard he likes it rough between the sheets.”
Beth’s eyes widened and she quickly covered her lips with her hand to prevent a sound leaving her mouth. Murphy mustn’t know she was in the room or he would never have spoken so carelessly about another man’s bedding habits. She slid the book to the floor at her side and crawled forward to catch anything else that might help her deal with her brother-in-law.
“He’s got one man with him, Fielding, who’s calling the shots most of the time,” Murphy continued. “Fielding’s not a man you’d want to cross. He’s got a fighter’s stance and remarkably light fingers, too.”
“Are you sure?”
“Saw him lift a pocket watch from Brown with my own eyes.”
Oliver stared at Murphy, a wide smile lifting the corners of his mouth so he looked far younger and far more devilish than she knew him to be. “Did you retrieve it?”
Murphy brushed lint from his sleeve. “Of course. Might be a touch out of practice, but I remember everything you taught me. The ribbon trick never fails to impress the ladies by the way. Thank you for that.”
Beth shifted closer to the railing and a floorboard creaked beneath her. She flattened herself on the floor, hoping the intricate metal railings still hid her from view. What might she miss if she gave herself away? Did Oliver really know how to pick pockets? And why would he take ladies’ ribbons? He barely noticed women.
Oliver coughed suddenly. “Interesting.”
“’Ere now, you’re not getting ill are you? I only agreed to go if you were well,” Murphy said, concern ringing in his tone.
“It’s just the dust.” Oliver slapped a hand to Murphy’s shoulder and steered him across the room toward the door, pulling a paper from his coat pocket. “I’m improving every day. I thought this list might help you prepare for the journey.”
Murphy studied the paper, brows drawn together as he read. Eventually he nodded. “Thank you. Wasn’t sure what to take but now I know.”
Oliver smiled. “Can’t have you leaving without your smalls.”
“I’m sure the ladies we might meet won’t mind that at all,” Murphy grinned. “What should I do now?”
Oliver glanced up, catching her eye briefly before he looked away again. But that look told her he was dissatisfied with what he’d heard. “Nothing. But keep your ears open and keep me informed of any new information.”
When Murphy hurried away, Oliver slowly returned and climbed up the stairs. Beth sat up and smoothed her skirts to neatness again, only a little ashamed that she’d been eavesdropping on another of Oliver’s conversations. The last time her heart had broken and she’d rushed away. This time, she had the courage to stay and demand an explanation. “Why would Murphy spy on Henry?”
“Because I asked him to follow your brother-in-law and report any discrepancies in his behavior or the stories he tells.” He sat on the top step, very close to her feet, and Beth’s heart tumbled over.
She clasped her sweaty hands together. “Why would you want to know more about Henry?”