A Kiss Away From Scandal. Christine Merrill
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for the heirlooms and another to help her to her feet. ‘Come. Let us pay for the return of these. Perhaps, tomorrow we can find your painting.’
* * *
They went back to the carriage and rode in silence back to Harley Street, where he handed her down to the waiting footman and carried the brown-paper bundle containing the candlesticks into the house for her.
The smugness he felt at today’s success did not do him credit. He had been confident of his ability to deliver a satisfactory solution to Leggett’s problem. But he had not expected to find a reasonable duplicate on the very first day, much less an actual item. Despite his employer’s warnings that the entire family was nothing but trouble, Hope Strickland might actually be the key to completion.
There was still the matter of her plans for the unsuspecting American. But since they had resulted from her lack of confidence that the entail could be made complete, today’s success might have loosened her grip on them.
It had been quite gratifying to see the look on her face when they had found the candlesticks. Since he had caught her practising her smiles in a mirror, he’d doubted that any of the ones she’d given him were born of sincerity. In his experience, the ruling class was good at appearing to be things they weren’t: kind, friendly and happy, for instance.
But her grin when she’d pulled the family silver out of that chest had been positively impish. The youthful mischief in her expression was a million miles away from the aloof mask she’d worn for the rest of their time together.
When she’d looked up at him, bathing him in an aura of true happiness, he’d had to remind himself that his reward for taking the job was not actually the smile of a beautiful young lady. He was doing this for money.
The proper Miss Strickland had seemed disgusted by the idea when she had talked of his fee. In her world, women might sell themselves to the highest bidder for a loveless marriage without turning a hair, but men were expected to do things for country, gallantry or sport. They never did anything as common as earning a living.
But as she’d talked of her childhood, she had forgotten what he was and looked at him as if he were an equal. Better yet, she had seen him as a man. There had been surprise on her face and perhaps a little awe in his ability to help her so easily. He had been flattered. He was smiling at her now, as he set the package on the dining-room table.
She looked up at him, as she removed her bonnet, and gave a slight toss of her head to free the last strand of her hair from the ribbon. Then, she smiled back at him with a puzzled expression that proved her earlier lapse was forgotten. ‘Thank you for your help, Mr Drake. The day was more productive than I expected. But now I must go and change for dinner.’
It took a moment to recognise the reason for her statement. He meant nothing to her. In fact, she seemed a little surprised that it had been necessary to dismiss him. When servants were finished being useful, they were expected to disappear until the next time they were needed.
Instead, he had been standing there like an idiot, as if he thought they had a reason to converse socially. It was the same feeling that had come over him in the carriage and he must gain control of it immediately. He forced a polite nod in response and said, ‘Of course, Miss Strickland. If it is convenient, I will return tomorrow and we will try another shop.’
Her already relaxed expression seemed to become even more placid. She gave a contented sigh, secure in the knowledge that they understood each other. ‘That will be fine, Mr Drake. And now, if you will excuse me?’
He bowed and she turned and left him to find his own way out.
He stood for a moment, staring after her, annoyed with her and with himself. When contemplating his place in society, he was not normally given to envy or dissatisfaction. By dint of his own effort, he had gained wealth and comfort and was smart enough not to be burdened by the sort of problems that led people to hire him. He was more than happy.
But today that did not feel like enough.
‘Mr Drake.’
He jumped at the sound of his name. The girl who had spoken it was staring at him from the doorway. Leggett had said that she was but nineteen years old, yet there was something about the look in her spectacled eyes that made her seem much older. The illusion was encouraged by the rather old-fashioned way she wore her straight brown hair and the utilitarian cut of her gown.
‘Miss Charity, I presume,’ he said, bowing deeply.
She nodded. ‘We have not been introduced. But then, you had not been introduced to my sister when you barged in on her yesterday.’
Apparently, there were no secrets in the Strickland family, especially not as they related to the harassing of strangers. He nodded in acknowledgement. ‘Your grandmother led me to believe I was expected.’
She gave him a dubious smile.
He held out his open hands and shrugged. ‘I gave her my card and she told me to find your sister in the hall. She assured me that Miss Strickland would know exactly what it was that needed doing. She made no offer of introduction. I assumed none was necessary.’
Miss Charity’s expression grew only slightly less doubtful. ‘If I were you, I would be very careful in following when the Dowager is the one in front. She veers wide of the truth when it suits her.’
‘Why would it suit her to...?’
‘Lie?’ The girl finished his question with the same strange, knowing smile. ‘Because in recent years, the truth has been quite unpleasant. She prefers to live in the past where things were easier.’
‘But what does any of that have to do with me?’
‘She would like my sister to be as happy as she was, in her youth. To achieve that, she must find a man for Hope.’ Charity paused for a moment. ‘Or men. I am unsure how many of the stories she tells are true, but they are always very colourful.’
‘I see.’ In truth, he did not. ‘What does that have to do with me?’
Miss Charity looked over her glasses at him. ‘You are male, are you not?’
‘Of course. But what...?’ And then, the truth came clear. ‘You cannot mean—’
‘I would not take it personally,’ Charity interrupted. ‘My sister has been uninclined to search for a husband outside of the one outlandish candidate she waits for. If Grandmother chose to throw a handsome man into her afternoon without warning, it was more of a call to awaken the senses rather than an actual attempt to mate the pair of you.’
At the clinical way she described it, he could see why Leggett had not hesitated in tripling his fee. ‘That is a comfort, I suppose.’
‘But you are not here to settle my sister’s future,’ she said, watching him more closely than he liked. ‘How goes the search for the missing entail?’
‘I do not anticipate any problems with it.’ He kept his tone polite, professional and opaque.
She gave a shake of her head. ‘The whole enterprise is unnecessary, of course.’
‘You think so?’ he said, surprised. Unlike the rest of the family, she seemed unaffected by the impending audit.
She gave a slight nod. ‘If my plan comes to fruition, we need not worry about staying in the heir’s good graces. But since you have been hired to complete the inventory to satisfy the rest of the family, feel free to grab items at random that fit the bill. What will some American know if every bell and button in the house is not just as my grandfather left it?’
‘I suggested much the same,’ he said. ‘But your sister requires greater accuracy than that.’
‘Hope appreciates order and is no good at dissembling,’ Charity replied. ‘She refuses to believe that the rest of us can get away with an adjustment of the truth because she knows she cannot.’
‘Such honesty is a thing to be prized,’