Helen wasn’t sure either, but their options were limited. “One does what one must in times of strife. We will have to steal the evidence and discredit the man so no one will believe his claim.”
“It may prove more complicated than that. And Sebastian will kill me for dragging you into this mess.”
“Does he need to know?” She shouldn’t keep secrets from her brother, but he would seize control of the situation, and she would not get to spend these precious moments alone with Nicholas.
“I cannot lie to Sebastian. We’re as close as brothers. I shall have to tell him some semblance of the truth.”
“You must do what you think is right. Perhaps you might inform me of your decision later tonight. We should repeat the same story. In the meantime, we have a list of tasks to complete.”
Identifying Mr Holland’s coach and coachman was a priority. Then one of them would need to search the rogue’s room while the other probed the guests for gossip.
She explained they should spend the day gathering information. “Is there somewhere we might meet, a place away from prying eyes?”
His gaze strayed beyond its usual limits, moving down to her mouth, her neck, daring to dip a little lower. “The folly ruins after dinner. Lady Brompton will wait until the men finish their port before engaging everyone in a card game.”
“I shall endeavour to be there.”
“Say nothing to Sebastian until I have spoken to him.”
She nodded. “I should leave before Sebastian returns.” Patience was a skill her brother had not mastered. “He will seek you out if you fail to appear on the terrace.”
He watched keenly as she slipped her fingers into her bodice and retrieved the key. The metal was warm when she handed it to him. Not so warm it should cause his sudden intake of breath. Not so warm it should cause heat to flare in his eyes.
He placed the key in his palm, his fingers clenching around it as if it were a lock of hair, a keepsake.
She sat riveted.
Wondering what on earth he was thinking.
Wishing their thoughts were aligned.
He appeared somewhat forlorn when he moved to open the door. He peered into the corridor before whispering, “The coast is clear. It’s safe to leave.”
Reluctantly, she swung her legs off the bed and joined him. She moved to cross the threshold, but he wrapped his fingers around her arm to stall her.
“Thank you,” Nicholas said as if no one had given him a greater gift.
“For what?” Her light, carefree tone belied the rapid pooling of heat between her thighs. She imagined him pulling her into an embrace, begging her to stay.
“For listening. For being so understanding.”
The words curled around her heart. But out of habit, or for another absurd reason, she said the most regretful thing possible. The stupid comment left her mouth like her usual rehearsed lines.
“What are families for?”
ChapterSix
“There’s history between Holland’s father and your mother?” Sebastian sat perched on the stone balustrade on Lady Brompton’s terrace, his arms folded across his chest.
Nicholas tried to focus on placating his friend, but logic lingered behind a sensual haze. He could still picture Helen’s fingers slipping down between her breasts, could still feel the heat of the key against his palm.
He lowered his voice. “Holland claims our parents were lovers and enjoys tormenting me at every given opportunity.”
Sebastian frowned. “Punch him, and be done with it.”
“And have him sully my mother’s name to anyone who’ll listen?”
Being an intelligent man, Sebastian asked the only relevant question. “What does Holland want? Your parents are dead. There must be a reason he means to harass you.”