Page 4 of A Season for Christmas

He had been away from England for a long time. For years, their relationship had been confined to letters. The young man he’d known had changed. Grown. Become a murderer?

“I will be honest… I think it unlikely,” Oliver said. “We have far more compelling suspects with much more motive. But I want to besure.And if Gregory had nothing to do with his father’s death, I still want to know if there is anyone on the estates who might have the motive he lacks… if he lacks.”

That settled a little more easily in Samuel’s gut. He could not believe that Gregory was a murderer, much less that he’d killed his own father, but he could certainly look for someone who might have had reason to. Gregory had never had the aspiration to be a duke. He preferred cavorting without the responsibility.

On the other hand, the former Duke of Clarence had been a hard man, extremely disapproving of his wayward son, and certainly the kind of man who likely had an enemy or two lurking in the woodworks. While Gregory might not want to have hastened the road to his legacy, others might have.

“I will keep my ears and eyes open, but I can promise you, Gregory did not do this,” he said resolutely, metaphorically standing behind his friend even if Gregory was not there to witness it.

“Did not do what?” The female voice behind him had Samuel jumping in alarm as he spun about.

The door to the library was hanging open and full of women, but his gaze went straight to one of them standing at the back—the most unexpected one. Lady Camden, he would have expected, as well as Lady Josephina and Miss Stuart. He knew Lady Talbot and Lady Hartford were long-time close friends of the family, so their presence was not remarkable.

While Catherine had been at the marquess’ wedding, that had been an extensive enough guest list that he could not have said she was a particular friend of the family. And besides, what the devil was she doing here in London rather than out at Cross estates with her late husband’s family? Or with her parents at their country house?

Samuel pressed his lips together before turning back to the others to see what excuse they might come up with. He was surprised Mrs. Browne had left the door open, though less surprised that the ladies had followed her to listen.

“Mr. North is celebrating the holidays with the Duke of Clarence, and we are asking him to find out if Clarence had any reason to… hasten his inheritance.” Mrs. Browne made a face, and so did Samuel, though his was a shocked expression as she spoke as baldly to the other ladies as she had to him.

“Oh, that’s good,” Lady Josephina said, walking into the room as if she had every right to be there and looking down at the map. “He’s one of the few we have not been able to reach yet in any other manner.”

We?

My God, he realized as the others came forward, without a hint of confusion in their expressions.They all knew. They were all in on it.

At least Catherine looked as baffled as he felt. If she was also one of Oliver’s spies, he might have blown his top right then and there. There were only so many revelations a man could take.

Catherine

What on earth was going on?

First, Stims had come for Evie—all the ladies had requested Catherine call them by their first names this afternoon—then Josie had barely been able to sit still before deciding to follow. It had caused a mass exodus from the parlor to the library, and Catherine was having trouble understanding exactly what was going on.

Especially because she was wildly distracted by Samuel’s presence. She’d thought he’d left London again. She’d seen him, not long after the marquess and Diana’s wedding, at a Society of Sin event. And he’d seen her. He’d watched her flog the Duke of Kent, then he’d left… and she’d told herself it did not matter.

Samuel was hardly the kind of man to accept the kind of lady she’d become. She’d seen the shock on his face, the confusion, then the understanding. And then he’d left. Because he did not want her.

She’d told herself it did not matter, that she did not care, then she’d put him from her mind. The same way she’d done when she’d had to marry Lord Cross under her parents’ orders. There was no point in thinking about what might have been. Catherine was far too pragmatic for that—she focused on whatwas.

Which was why she could hardly push him from her mind again when he was standing here, in the Marquess ofCamden’s library, talking about reporting on whether the current Duke of Clarence had killed the previous one.

Why would Evie and her uncle and husband be sending Samuel to discover if the Duke of Clarence had killed his own father—not to mention seven other dukes?

Why were they investigating at all?

She thought it had been deemed an accident.

And even if it was not, what business was it of theirs?

Yet all the other ladies were not only acting as though this was normal, they were also clearly involved.

Catherine knew when to keep her mouth shut and her ears open, and that was precisely what she did right now.

“Exactly how many of you are involved in these operations?” Samuel asked—nay, demanded to know. He was heated. She could see it in his face, in his body language, the way he held himself. Was it only because he was being asked to spy on a friend or because of the women’s involvement in the request?

“All of us.” Diana smiled at him as she made her way to her husband’s side. “Though at least one of us is supposed to be retired.” She gave the marquess an arch look. He snorted, though he looked at her with pure affection.

“Eight dukes. Allmycontemporaries, not Anthony and Evie’s,” he said in the tone of someone who was repeating themselves. “I knew them better, and my insights are necessary, especially with something so unprecedented.”

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