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“This might be of interest.” Daniel flicked through the pages until he got to the section on domestic occurrences. “There are details of a trial for libel, a riot in Greenwich and—” He stopped abruptly, scanned the document again to be certain his eyes weren’t playing tricks.

“And?” Daphne did not look at him but continued to sniff in the vicinity of the bookcase.

“And brief details of the coroner’s inquest into Thomas’ death.”

“What?” Daphne rushed to his side and glanced over his shoulder. “The jury brought a verdict of accidental death due to drowning.” She muttered the words as she read the article. “Why would Lord Gibson keep a copy of a magazine that’s three years old?”

“As a token perhaps.” As Daniel turned the page, a leaf of paper floated to the floor.

Daphne picked it up and held it near the candle. “It’s a list of times and dates the Carron docked in London. They go back three years or more.”

“May I see it?” Their fingers touched as he took the note, sending a shiver of awareness shooting up his arm. Regardless of where he was or what he was doing, his desire for her always simmered beneath the surface. “There’s no mention of Lily or Thomas. But Gibson obviously has a vested interest in following the Carron’s movements.”

“Perhaps Lord Gibson is not the traitor.” Daphne glanced left and right and sniffed the air again. “Thomas might have sent him the list for some reason.”

“But why would he send it to Gibson?” Daniel frowned when Daphne rubbed her nose. “Are you ill? Has the walk across the damp grass given you a chill?”

“No.” Chin in the air, Daphne turned away from him. “I caught a whiff of something familiar.” She walked over to the bookcase, sniffing like a hound eager to latch onto a scent. With a sudden gasp, she bent down and opened the first in a row of cupboards underneath. “The smell is stronger over here, far more potent.”

Daniel should have continued searching the drawers, but he couldn’t drag his eyes from Daphne’s round derriere as she worked her way along the row. “Perhaps Gibson spilt brandy or port and the scent still lingers.”

Daphne gasped. “That’s it. The scent lingers.” She knelt on the floor and rummaged through the cupboard. “It’s the same musky odour the intruder leaves behind at home.”

“Are you sure?” Daniel placed the paper back inside the magazine, slipped it into the pocket of his greatcoat and moved to stand next to Daphne.

“Positive.” She pulled out a small wooden box and opened the lid.

There was a lengthy pause while she stared at the objects inside.

“What’s wrong?” Daniel crouched at her side.

A gasp left her lips when she picked up the plain, glass bottle of French cologne and removed the stopper. “This is the scent worn by the intruder.” All colour drained from her face as she inhaled deeply. “This is the smell he leaves behind.” With a quick shake of her head, she pushed the stopper back into the bottle and dropped it into the box as if it might burn her fingers.

“There’s another item in the box.” Daniel knew she’d seen the object wrapped in a soft red cloth but she seemed reluctant to examine what was hidden inside.

“You take it out and see what it is.”

Daniel picked up the item. From the shape and weight, he had an idea what it was before he peeled back the cloth. He glanced at Daphne, but her eyes were closed.

“What is it, Daniel?” The tremble in her voice spoke of apprehension, not excitement.

“It’s a gold pocket watch.”

Pain flashed across her face. She opened her eyes slowly and stared at the metal case sitting in his palm.

“May I see it?” she said, her fingers trembling as she held out her hand.

“Of course.” He placed it in her palm and for a moment feared she lacked the strength to hold it.

She grimaced as she flicked open the case, sucked in a few sharp breaths and tried to regain her composure. “This … this watch was given to Thomas by his father.” Her finger came to rest on the dent on the lid. “He dropped it once when we were out walking and cursed himself the whole way home. Many times he said he would get it repaired, see if a watchmaker could smooth out the metal.”

A tear trickled down her cheek, and Daniel placed his hand on her arm. Rage burned in his chest at the thought of confronting Lord Gibson with the evidence. Sorrow pained his heart for there was nothing he could do to bring Thomas back.

“I suppose he thought there was no rush,” Daphne continued. “That he would get around to it, eventually. But fate intervened.”

“Thomas did not deserve to die like this.” Anger was the only emotion evident in his voice. “Killed by a coward who’d sell his own mother to the devil.”

A whimper left her lips as she closed the lid and clutched the watch tight in her hand. “I’m not leaving it here. I’m not leaving it in a dusty old cupboard.”


Tags: Adele Clee Historical