Daniel stood. “Send word to the address on my card when you receive the document.” The urge to leave was too great to sit and partake in unnecessary conversation.
Lord Gibson cleared his throat. “As it is a question of national security, I must ask how you came to know of my involvement in such matters.”
“All will become clear when I return.” Daniel inclined his head. He would discover the truth about Thomas’ killer before the government could intervene. Once he’d spoken to Daphne, he’d visit the ship chandler. Based on the information given by Gibson, he suspected the first word spelt Lily.
Chapter 22
“Would you mind if we stopped here?” Daphne tapped Mr Bostock on the arm and gestured to the quaint book shop. “I’ll be no more than a few minutes.”
Mr Bostock glanced back over his shoulder and then up at the shop’s facade. “I don’t see as it can hurt.”
“I doubt I’ll make a purchase,” Daphne said as Mr Bostock opened the door and stepped back for her to enter. “But there’s something comforting about the smell of books. I could sit in a chair and read all day, time and money permitting.”
“Well, I’ve never seen the attraction myself.” Mr Bostock frowned as he scanned the rows upon rows of books lining every available wall space. The varying hues of the bound covers: reds, golds and greens, reminded Daphne of an autumn scene.
“But you do read?”
“I can read if that’s what you’re asking. Thorpe taught me everything I need to know to get by.” His expression turned solemn, and he heaved a sigh. “Without Thorpe’s guidance, I’d be robbing pies from the market, not dressed in finery and dining with ladies.”
The men had formed a close bond over the years. Any fool could see that.
“And without you, he might have been beaten to a pulp the night you met.”
Mr Bostock snorted. “Oh, he’d have saved himself somehow. He always does.”
Daphne truly hoped that was the case as she couldn’t imagine a life without Daniel now. “Have you ever been to Rainham Hall?” she said casually, feigning interest in a selection of books near the door.
Mr Bostock’s mouth fell open, and he blinked rapidly. “You know about that?”
“Yes, though I don’t understand why Mr Thorpe lives in the city when he has such a beautiful home in the country.” Why did he move from place to place, never really having anywhere to call home?
“Perhaps it’s because he has a point to prove.” Mr Bostock shrugged. “Or maybe the big house reminds him too much of the past.”
Or maybe he didn’t know how to stop running.
“Do you think there’ll ever come a time when he’ll live at Rainham Hall?” Daphne hoped he would. But he enjoyed his work, and as he’d said himself, people in the shires had no need for an enquiry agent.
Mr Bostock shook his head. “Can’t see him ever leaving the city while you’re still here.”
“Me?” Daphne put her hand to her chest. “Thorpe has hardly spoken a word to me these last few years. Had we not worked together to help Lord Harwood, I doubt he’d be speaking to me now.”
The thought caused a sharp pain in her chest. Things were so different since they’d been working together. But once they’d discovered who murdered Thomas, what then? Perhaps he would agree to a business partnership. It would make working cases far more appealing.
“Just because you don’t speak to him, doesn’t mean he’s not there,” Mr Bostock replied. “He knows about your cases, always intervenes when necessary.”
Daphne drew her head back. “Intervenes?” The word burst from her lips. The few people milling about the shop turned to stare. “What do you mean?” she whispered.
Mr Bostock shuffled uncomfortably. “It’s not for me to say.”
Daphne placed a hand on her hip. “Mr Bostock, you will explain the comment.”
He muttered something to himself. “Don’t say I was the one who told you.”
“You have my word.”
“My objective is always to keep you safe,” he said defensively. “Like the night you were searching Mr Mason’s office looking for proof his client had exaggerated his wealth.”