“While your arousal is evident in the amber flecks of your eyes, mine is evident in a more prominent place.”
Delighted to know she had an effect on him, Vivienne couldn’t help but glance at the noticeable bulge in his breeches.
“Avert your gaze, madam, for it feels like the teasing caress of your fingers.”
She swallowed past her desire. “Perhaps we should return to the matter at hand.” They could continue this conversation tonight while playing the question game. Now, they had more worrying matters to deal with.
“If you mean we should inspect the upper floor, you might have phrased it differently. I need your hand for a more important task than scouring through the discarded debris.” As if annoyed at himself for making the lewd comment, he shook his head and resumed a more business-like manner. “But you’re right. Let us make a thorough inspection before alerting the authorities.”
They visited Mr Wicks’ office next. The room stank of liquor, sweat, and stale tobacco. The contents of the shelves lay scattered about the floor. Upstairs, they encountered the same level of carnage. Discarded clothes. Slashed pillows. Hundreds of feathers littering the bed.
“We should be grateful Mr Golding isn’t home.” Vivienne searched the open armoire only to find more crumpled clothes and an empty valise.
“He can’t have left town. His shaving implements are on the washstand.” Mr Sloane scanned the room and gave a curious hum. “I’ve seen enough. We will alert the constable and continue as planned.”
Continue as planned?
Did he speak of their wedding or the visit to the costume shop?
“How can we continue when we need Mr Golding to act as a witness?”
Mr Sloane gestured for her to exit the room and he followed. “The villain has us chasing our tails, running this way and that, achieving nothing in the process.” His stilted speech conveyed his frustration. “No, we’ve lingered in the background long enough. It’s time to whip up a storm.”
The determination in his voice stole her breath. There was nothing more attractive than a man who knew when to take command of the reins.
“What are we to do?”
He placed a hand at her back and guided her to the stairs. “We’ll call at the Hatton Garden police office, it’s closest, and make them aware of what’s occurred here. Then we’ll call at the costume shop before returning to Keel Hall. We need the sealed note if we’re to visit Mr Howarth. Golding’s disappearance is connected to our case, and so we must assume the worst.”
What if the poor man had suffered while protecting their legacy?
“We have no need to visit Keel Hall.” Did he honestly think she’d leave such an important letter for the intruder to find? “I have the sealed letter on my person.”
His curious gaze raked over her from neck to navel. “So you slipped it into your thigh belt.”
“No. It’s not in my thigh belt.”
“You’re hiding it in another secret place?” His low voice sounded lascivious.
“I am.”
“Can I ask where? Should we encounter a pr
oblem en route, I might need to retrieve the important document.”
Vivienne suppressed a chuckle. “It’s wedged securely between my shift and stays.”
Mr Sloane swallowed deeply and dared to glance at her bosom. “For an innocent, you’re rather skilled in the art of flirtation. I believe you gain pleasure from provoking me, madam, and won’t rest until you have me on my knees.”
She found these flashes of vulnerability as captivating as his powerful persona. Who wouldn’t want such a masterful man at their mercy?
“The fault lies with you, Mr Sloane, for you have read something more into an innocent statement.”
“There’s nothing more arousing than your innocence, Miss Hart. Though I wonder how you intend to retrieve the note while sitting in a closed carriage with me.”
“I have every faith you will do what is right.”
“What, be a gentleman and offer my assistance?”