Maybe that’s why her mind started to wander. Why she could think of nothing but the magnificent man beside her.
The urge to touch him proved compelling. While sitting demurely, she dared to slide her hand under the table and touch Nicholas’ thigh.
The hard muscle flexed beneath her fingers.
He inhaled deeply but didn’t look at her.
Mr Chance cleared his throat. “So, I was tasked with discovering why the previous Lord Bowden and Robert Holland fought a duel over a mistress twenty years ago.”
“We wondered if the current Lord Bowden might be illegitimate,” Helen said, trying not to get flustered as her palm grew hot.
“I spoke to Miss Lavern,” Mr Chance said in his usual forthright manner. “She remembered the incident a little differently. The men fought because Holland claimed to have had an affair with Lady Bowden and that her eldest son was his.”
Thrilled by this new piece of evidence, she gripped Nicholas’ thigh. “But why is it not common knowledge? Why are we only hearing about it now?”
“Lord Bowden paid Miss Lavern to say they had fought for her affections. Between themselves, the men came to an agreement. Bowden paid Holland thirty thousand pounds for his silence. There’s a written contract stating that if the gossips learn the truth, the money must be repaid along with a high rate of interest.”
Had Charles Holland found the contract amongst the other documents? With the estate in debt, had he been blackmailing the lord, too?
“There’s a chance Mr Holland and Lord Bowden are brothers?” It meant the lord might also be Nicholas’ brother. Was he the missing twin the midwife mentioned? If they could find a connection between Esther and Lady Bowden, it might be enough to make a case.
“I’m not so sure,” Nicholas said. “While they share some similarities, I wouldn’t say they look alike.”
“The midwife said the babes were not identical.” She waited until Sebastian faced Mr Chance before moving her hand further up Nicholas’ thigh and stroking her fingertips over his manhood.
She watched his eyelids close slowly and open again.
“What about Miss Ferrington?” Sebastian said. “Did she speak to Miss Thorndyke’s friends?”
“No, but she visited Miss Thorndyke’s home and saw the maid washing the front steps. In exchange for a sovereign, the servant said Thorndyke lost his temper and shouted at his sister the night before they left for Grayswood Folly.”
“Did the maid know what the row was about?”
Mr Chance glanced at the few papers scattered on the table. “The footman confessed to taking letters to Charles Holland in Wimpole Street. But that’s all she knew. The Thorndykes returned home moments after she’d walked away.”
Fear prickled the hairs on Helen’s nape. If the guests had returned to London, that meant the magistrate and coroner were hunting for Nicholas. They may have sought help from Peel and his new police force.
“Then we must proceed with caution,” she said, fearing the worst. “Mr St Clair is considered a criminal on the run.” She paused, her heart lurching at the thought of losing him now. “Does anyone know of Mrs Waltham’s direction?”
Maybe she could cast light on her brother’s philandering ways. Explain why she wasn’t welcome at Oakmere Hall.
Sebastian faced her. “I believe Mrs Waltham owns a house in Warren Street near Fitzroy Square. She told Monsieur Laurent to return to Wimpole Street for the time being. That she would find him and the other staff employment elsewhere.”
Silence descended while Aaron Chance flipped through the papers. He retrieved her sketch of the coachman and of the unusual ring worn by the man who’d forced their carriage off the road.
“That leaves us with Miss Langley’s drawings,” Mr Chance said.
Sebastian leant forward. “May I see them?”
In her efforts to keep her investigation secret, she had not shown him the pencil sketches. While he studied them, she took the opportunity to caress Nicholas’ thigh. Touching him banished her fears temporarily. Touching him gave her hope that they would emerge from their troubles unscathed.
He cast her a sidelong glance, the heat in his eyes evident.
She needed to be alone with him—soon.
“Theo had some luck identifying the ring.” Mr Chance gestured to the drawing Sebastian was studying. “Someone at the club recognised the design and confirmed it’s a cross engraved into onyx.”
“A cross? I thought it may have been a sword or a serpent.” She’d not had time to study it closely. “It never occurred to me it could be a religious symbol.”