Page 85 of Touch Me

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She shrugged. "We are on somewhat intimate terms. Calling you Drake seems a bit formal."

He had thought so after their first kiss.

"Uncle Ashby has no children," she said, going back to the original topic, the telltale pink of her cheeks betraying how discussing their intimacy affected her.

"So?"

"Emerson knows that his uncle's half of Merewether Shipping will eventually go to him. He has no reason to steal from a company that will eventually belong to him."

"Unless he needs funds now."

She bit at her lower lip. "I suppose."

"I'll have my man of affairs conduct some inquiries into Emerson's financial circumstances."

Her brows drew together. "What about Barton?"

"I'll have him investigated as well."

She nodded. "Good. You need to watch out for those self-effacing types."

Drake smothered a laugh.

She was really reaching, but once the investigation was complete would be soon enough to shatter her illusions about Emerson. Merewether's nephew or not, he was the likeliest candidate for the thefts. Not to mention the attempts on Thea's life. If Drake discovered that Emerson was indeed responsible, the jovial man would lose his affability … permanently.

Thea leaned toward her aunt and whispered, "Does she not realize she is singing a tragedy?"

The young debutante entertaining her parents' guests at the preseason musicale smiled charmingly as she sang of her lover dying beneath the waves of the open sea.

Lady Upworth whispered back, "She's showing off her best asset. Hopes it will make the gentlemen forget she can't sing worth a pence."

Wincing as the smiling girl hit another discordant note, Thea had to agree.

Lady Boyle, who sat on her other side, had nodded off. Thea was amazed that Drake's aunt could sleep without allowing her head to list to one side. If anyone were to look, they would assume she had closed her eyes to focus on the music. Thea knew better and she envied the older woman's oblivion to the indifferent entertainment.

The ability to escape the unpleasant must run in the family because Drake had also managed to avoid the untalented singer, having disappeared almost as soon as they arrived. It annoyed Thea. He was the one who insisted on announcing their pretend engagement to the entire world. The least he could do was to stay by her side and deal with the curious stares and pointed questions posed by the perfectly correct, but not always polite, members of the ton.

Lady Noreen had h

ad the good sense to skip the entertainment altogether.

The awful song finally ended. Thea made to stand, but her aunt's hand arrested her. With dawning horror, she realized that yet another young lady had come forward to entertain them.

The blushing girl sat down next to a large harp and began to slide her fingers across the strings. Hope surged through Thea at the lovely sound until she realized that sliding her hands up and down the strings seemed to be all the young woman knew how to do. By the time the song ended, she was sure she never wanted to hear the harp again.

The harpist was followed by a pianist who played passably, a flautist who did not, and another singer who shook with nerves through her entire song. When her aunt's measured breathing indicated she, too, had fallen asleep, Thea began to feel acutely persecuted. The evening had been her aunt's idea after all. Why bother to come if she intended to sleep through the program?

A young lady with a pixie face, golden brown eyes, and blond hair, who sat on the other side of Lady Upworth, caught Thea's eye and gave her a commiserating smile. Thea returned her smile, feeling warmed by at least one friendly face among the ton.

They both turned to face the front again at the same time, and it was only as her gaze settled on another debutante that the message her brain was trying to give her pierced her consciousness. An image rose in her mind of a sketch she had studied many times. The girl in the sketch was smiling and had two charming dimples, just like the young lady sitting on the other side of Thea's aunt.

Thea took another surreptitious look at the young lady who had smiled at her in such understanding. It was. She was certain of it. Why had her aunt not warned her?

Perhaps because she believed you would then cry off the entertainment tonight, a small voice in her head accused.

Her heart began a swift palpitation; her palms became sweaty inside her gloves and her eyes smarted with unaccustomed tears.

The young woman seated so demurely beside her aunt was Lady Irisa Selwyn, Thea's half sister.


Tags: Lucy Monroe Historical