Page 20 of Lady of Charade
“And just why were you watching me do so?”
They stared at one another for a moment, not in any animosity, but in silent contemplation. She finally relented.
“I was looking for information — any hints that he might be the man I suppose him to be.”
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“What were you thinking, that he would keep a record of your birth upon the top of his desk?”
He placed a hand on her back as they spoke, moving her away from the door and down the hallway. Opening another door, he found a small sitting room with a fire cheerily lit in the grate — a room that was quite obviously more welcoming to any guests of the party, unlike the Earl’s unlit, dark, cold study.
They entered, and he gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa while he chose a chair across from her.
“Honestly, Mr. Redmond, I have no idea what I am doing any longer. I seem to have come to a complete stall in my search.”
She looked so defeated that David longed to stand and take her in his arms once more. For the truth was, though their kiss had been brief and for a greater purpose, he could still feel her lips upon his, could taste the lemonade she had obviously just drank, and all that the kiss had succeeded in doing, besides masking her true actions, was stir his passion and leave him wanting more.
But now wasn’t the time to attempt any more with her.
He tilted his head to the side as he contemplated her situation.
“I wonder,” he murmured, “If you are taking the wrong direction in this.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have been focused on determining who your father is, correct?”
She nodded.
“Have you not thought that perhaps the better option may be attempting to determine who wrote you the letter? This mysterious person obviously holds the answers to your questions. Why would he or she not provide them to you?”
“I have no idea,” Miss Jones responded with a shrug of her shoulders. “Perhaps this is all some great farce.”
“I doubt it,” he said with a frown. “For what purpose would that serve? No, I believe there is some greater work at play, though what, I have no idea. Have you the letter still?”
She nodded. “In my rooms, yes.”
“I will take a look at it this evening, then,” he said, and she looked up at him, her eyes widening once more.
“You would like me to bring it to you?”
“No, you can show it to me when I come to your lodgings.”
“And just why would you be returning once more, Mr. Redmond?
“Do you not recall me telling you I would return? I can hardly leave you alone, Miss Jones.”
“I enjoy being alone, Mr. Redmond, and have been for some time.”
“Nevertheless,” he said, shaking his head. “No longer.”
“But—”
“I will tell no one. Your reputation is safe with me.”
At her quirked eyebrow, he laughed.
