Page 39 of Must Love Scoundrels
“I’ll be right back,” Lucy said, nodding to Duncan. She could hear him explaining, even as she made her way on tiptoe through the house, up the stairs, and to the nursery. She saw no one and all was quiet. Lucy eased the nursery door open and peered inside. On a small pallet near the door, Wilhemina slept, snoring quietly. Across the room was Johnny’s bed. He was in it, curled on his side, a thumb in his mouth. He’d kicked all his covers off, and they trailed on the floor. Lucy’s gaze went to the crib near Wilhemina. The baby slept on his back, arms flung up, head turned toward the door.
With a sigh of relief, Lucy closed the door again and tiptoed back downstairs. She returned to the study just as Duncan said, “And we realized we were locked out.”
“And is no one at the door?” Lord John demanded. “Thomas was to stay up and light me to bed.”
“He’s asleep in the parlor,” Lucy said. “I saw him when I went to check on the children just now.”
“I’ll have his head,” Lord John said. “What of the children?”
“Sleeping peacefully. Wilhemina is there as well, right next to the door. You needn’t worry.”
“But I am worried. Someone was able to slip in and out of this house in the middle of the night without anyone knowing, and the manservant supposed to be waiting up has fallen asleep. I’ve half a mind to discharge him at once.”
“Don’t do that,” Duncan said. “It will hurt more than help.”
“I agree,” Lucy said. “If we’re to catch the person who was out tonight, they need to feel as if their foray this evening went unnoticed. Else they won’t try it again.”
“I don’t want them to try it again!”
“I do,” Duncan told the prime minister. “That’s the only way we’ll know for certain whether it was just a lovers’ rendezvous or something more sinister.”
“Very well, but I’m firing Thomas as soon as we have answers.”
“That’s up to you, my lord,” Lucy said, “but I’d be interested in what Mr. Slorach—er, Smith—observes of Thomas tomorrow. Has he a headache or is he sluggish?”
“Whyever would I care?” Lord John said.
“Signs he’d been drugged,” Duncan said, understanding her perfectly. “Perhaps laudanum or some other opiate had been slipped into his tea at dinner. The servants know it’s his night to serve you, my lord. I’m curious about another matter. Why wasn’t a hall boy at the door?”
Lord John frowned. “Lady John doesn’t like for the young boys to sit up all night. She thinks it’s unhealthy.”
“If I understand, a footman is there until you go to bed, and then the door is unguarded.”
“Yes, Miss, er—Smith. I can talk to Lady John and try and sway her—”
“No.” Lucy shook her head. “We don’t want to change anything. But Duncan and I are still new here. We are trying to know what others in the household already know.” She looked at Duncan. “Namely, that the front door is unguarded in the middle of the night.”
“It shouldn’t have been. Thomas was assigned to sit up until I finished with these letters.”
“Which was why he was drugged,” Duncan said. “I’m beginning to think this was more than a lovers’ tryst.”
“So am I.” Lucy gave the prime minister a brief curtsey. “Sorry to intrude, my lord. We’ll let you go back to your work.”
He harrumphed. “Fat lot of work I’ll be able to do now. How am I to concentrate?”
Lucy and Duncan left the office, and Lucy pointed to the adjoining parlor where Thomas slept, face down on a small couch. “I’d think he was dead, except I can hear him snoring,” Lucy said. They moved away from the parlor, and she started for the stairs to the second floor. He moved toward the servants’ quarters.
“Not that way,” she whispered. “Come to my bed chamber.”
Duncan shot her a look, and Lucy rolled her eyes. “To finish deciphering the letter.”
“Of course.”
She shook her head. As though he hadn’t hoped for more. Perhaps her own mind had turned in that direction as well. After all, the kiss they’d shared near the bench had been one she wouldn’t soon forget. Her body was still thrumming with the warmth from the arousal.
Once inside her bed chamber, she closed the door, pulled the drapes—after a last look outside—and lit the lamp. Duncan sat on the bed and hunched over the letter. She rather liked the look of his big form on her small bed. If they were to share it, he’d take up practically the entire mattress. She’d be forced to lie almost on top of him...
“Perhaps you do have a checkered past,” she said.
