"Agatha," he said too sweetly, "how lovely to see you."

"You look like hell," she barked, then pushed past him to settle into one of the library's wing chairs.

"Still as tactful as ever," he murmured, leaning against a tabletop.

"Are you drunk?"

He shook his head and motioned to the whiskey. "Poured a glass but never drank it." He looked down at the amber liquid. "Hmmm. The surface is beginning to get dusty."

"I didn't come here to discuss spirits," Agatha said haughtily.

"You did inquire as to my sobriety," he pointed out.

She ignored his comment. "I hadn't realized you had become friendly with young Lucas Hotchkiss."

James blinked and stood up straight. Of all the non sequiturs his aunt might have chosen-and she was a master at changing the subject with no warning whatsoever-he certainly never expected this. "Lucas?" he echoed. "What about Lucas?"

Lady Danbury held out a folded piece of paper. “He sent you this letter."

James took it from her, noting the childish smudges on the paper. "I suppose you read this," he said.

"It was not sealed."

He decided not to press the matter and unfolded the paper. "How odd," he murmured.

"That he wants to see you? I don't think it's the least bit odd. The poor boy has not had a man in his life since he was three and his father died in that hunting accident."

James looked up sharply. Apparently Elizabeth's ruse had worked. If Agatha hadn't managed to discover the truth about Mr. Hotchkiss's death, then the secret was safe.

"He probably has a question for you," Agatha continued. "Something he'd be too embarrassed to ask his sisters. Boys are like that. And I'm sure he's confused about ill that has happened in the past few days."

James looked at her with curious eyes. His aunt was displaying a remarkable sensitivity to the little boy's plight.

And then Agatha said, softly, “He reminds me of you when you were that age."

James caught his breath.

"Oh, don't look so surprised. He is, of course, much happier than you were at the time." She reached down and gathered up her cat, who had slunk into the room. “But he has that lost expression boys get when they reach a certain age and they don't have a man to guide them." She stroked Malcolm's thick fur. "We women are, of course, extremely capable and, for the most part, far wiser than men, but even I must admit there are some things we cannot do."

While James was comprehending the fact that his aunt had actually admitted that there existed a task beyond her capabilities, she added, "You are going to see him, aren't you?"

James was insulted that she would even ask. Only an unfeeling monster could ignore such a request. "Of course I'm going to see him. I'm rather curious, however, about his choice of locale."

"Lord Danbury's hunting lodge?" Agatha shrugged. "It's not as odd as you'd think. After he died, no one had any use for it. Cedric isn't fond of hunting, and since he never leaves London, anyway, I offered it to Elizabeth. She refused, of course."

"Of course," James murmured.

"Oh, I know you're thinking her too proud, but the truth is, she has a five-year lease on her cottage, so the move wouldn't have saved her any money. And she didn't want to uproot her family." Lady Danbury lifted Malcolm up into a standing position on her lap and let him kiss her nose. "Isn't he just the most darling cat?"

"Depends on your definition of 'darling,' " James said, but only to needle his aunt. He owed the cat eternal gratitude for leading him to Elizabeth when Fellport had attacked her.

Lady D scowled at him. "As I was saying, Elizabeth refused, but she allowed that they might move there once her rent came due, so she brought the entire family out for a visit. Young Lucas was quite taken with it." She frowned thoughtfully. "I think it was the hunting trophies. Young boys love that sort of thing."

James glanced at a clock that was being used as a bookend. He'd need to leave in about a quarter of an hour if he wanted to be prompt for Lucas's requested meeting.

Agatha sniffed the air and stood, letting Malcolm vault onto an empty bookshelf. "I'll leave you to your own company," she said, leaning on her cane. "I'll tell the servants not to expect you for supper."

"I'm sure this won't take long."

"One never knows, and if the boy is troubled, you might need to spend some time with him. Besides"-she paused as she reached the doorway and turned around- "it's not as if you've graced the table with your illustrious presence these past few days, anyway."

A cutting comeback would spoil her magnificent exit, so James just smiled wryly and watched her walk slowly down the hall, her cane thumping softly in time with her footsteps. He'd long since learned that everyone was happier if Agatha got to have the last word at least half the time.

James walked slowly back into the library, picked up the whiskey glass, and tossed contents through the open window. Setting the glass back down on the table, he glanced around the room, and his eyes fell upon the little red book that had been haunting him for days.

He strode to the bookshelf and picked it up, tossing the slim volume from hand to hand. It weighed almost nothing, which seemed ironic, since it had done so much to change his life. And then, in a split-second decision he would never quite understand, he slipped it into his coat pocket.

Much as he detested the book, it somehow made him feel closer to her.

Chapter 22

As Elizabeth approached the late Lord Danbury's hunting lodge, she chewed nervously on her lower lip, and paused to reread Lady Danbury's unexpected missive.

Elizabeth-

As you are aware, I am being blackmailed. I believe you might have information that will unearth the villain who has chosen me as his target. Please meet me at Lord Danbury's hunting lodge at eight this evening.

Yrs,

Agatha, Lady Danbury

Elizabeth couldn't imagine why Lady Danbury would think she possessed any pertinent information, but she had no reason to be suspicious of the note's authenticity. She knew Lady D's handwriting as well as her own, and this was no forgery.

She purposefully had not shared the note with her younger siblings, preferring to tell them that Lady Danbury needed to see her and leave it at that. They knew nothing of the blackmail plots, and Elizabeth hadn't wanted to worry them, especially since Lady D wanted to meet at such a late hour. It was still quite light out at eight, but unless the countess could conduct her business in mere minutes it would be dark when Elizabeth had to return home.

Elizabeth paused with her hand on the doorknob. There was no carriage in sight, and Lady Danbury's health did not allow her to walk such distances. If the countess had not yet arrived, then the door was probably locked, and…

The knob turned in her hand.

"How odd," she murmured, and entered the house.

There was a fire blazing in the hearth, and an elegant supper was laid on the table. Elizabeth walked farther into the room, turning in a slow circle as she took in the preparations. Why would Lady Danbury…

"Lady Danbury?" she called out. "Are you here?"

Elizabeth sensed a presence in a doorway behind her and whirled around.

"No," James said. "Only me."

Elizabeth's hand flew to her mouth. "What are you doing here?" she gasped.

His smile was lopsided. “The same as you, I imagine. Did you receive a note from your brother?"

"Lucas?" she asked, startled. "No, from your aunt."

"Ah. Then they are all conspiring against us. Here…" He held out a crumpled piece of paper. "Read this."

Elizabeth unfolded the note and read:

My lord-

Before you leave the district, I beg of you to grant me an audience. There is a matter of some sensitivity about which I should like to ask your advice. It is not something a man would like to discuss with his sisters.

Unless I hear otherwise, I shall expect to meet you at Lord Danbury's hunting lodge at eight this evening.

Sincerely,

Sir Lucas Hotchkiss

Elizabeth barely stifled a horrified giggle. "It's Lucas's handwriting, but the words are straight from Susan's mouth."

James smiled. "I thought it sounded a touch precocious."

"He is very bright, of course-"

"Of course."

"-but I cannot quite hear him use the phrase 'matter of some sensitivity.' "

"Not to mention," James added, "that at the age of eight, it is unlikely that he should even have a matter of some sensitivity."

Elizabeth nodded. "Oh! I'm sure you shall want to read this." She handed him the letter she'd received from Lady Danbury.

He scanned it, then said, "I'm not surprised. I arrived a few minutes before you did and found these." He held out two envelopes, one marked, Read immediately and one marked Read after you've reconciled.

Elizabeth choked back horrified laughter.

"My reaction precisely," he murmured, "although I doubt I looked half so fetching."

Her eyes flew to his face. He was staring at her with a quiet, burning intensity that robbed her of breath. And then, without diverting his gaze from hers, even for a second, he asked, "Shall we open them?"

It took Elizabeth a few moments to realize what he was talking about. "Oh, the envelopes. Yes, yes." She licked her lips, which had gone quite dry. "But both?"

He held up the one marked Read after you've reconciled and shook it slightly in the air. "I can save it, if you think we will have cause to read it shortly."

She swallowed convulsively and avoided the question by saying, "Why don't we open the other one and see what it says?"