Page 10 of A Spinster for the Rakish Duke
Donovan nodded appreciatively. “A fair deduction. I am assuming this is, in large part, because you found out I was lying about who I am to your employer’s sister.”
He nodded, “The one hiccup in that though is your lie doesn’t at all go along with what I read in my books. You would want to lie about being someone important, not to hide that you are important.”
Donovan continued to study the young man. There was a cleverness to him that he hid behind many layers but was willing to use it when it was necessary. Donovan was glad. Seemed like someone useful to have around during an investigation.
“Here is the deal. My reasons for... misleading Miss Bradford are my own. But I promise I hold her no ill will, and that my lies bearno significance to her brother going missing. I swear upon my honor that is the truth of the matter, and I humbly ask that you keep this revelation to yourself for the time being.”
It was the delivery man’s turn to study him. “Well, if I am not to be calling you “Your Grace,” then how would you like me to refer to you?”
“Mr. Connor suits me just fine, thank you,” Donovan said pleasantly and politely.
“Well nice to meet you, Mr. Connor,” the delivery man said while holding out his hand. “My name is Martin Herst, Marty to my friends.”
The young man’s grip was surprisingly firm, but it was clearly not meant to be a postulating or painful handshake. Donovan could tell that part of this man appreciated the idea of the two of them being relative equals, even if it wasn’t true to life.
When Emma heard the door, she held a brief flutter of hope that her brother had returned. It was soon clear that wasn’t the case though as she could hear Mr. Herst's excitable voice carried all the way down the hall to her brother’s study. Emma had herself holed up at her brother's desk, reading through any of her brother’s paperwork that she could make any sense of.
She was almost as happy to see Donovan had chosen to return with Mr. Herst. He had come, and she was thankful.
“Mr. Connor. I am glad that you have come to our aid in this time of need,” she said trying not to let too much emotion creep up into her voice. She had detested crying, even from a young age. One of her father’s favorite anecdotes about her was to express how she never cried as a baby.
“I must admit, I was surprised after receiving a letter from you after all this time. I thought you no longer wished to hear from me.” Emma’s face became puzzled, and Donovan quickly changed the subject. “So, your brother disappeared, and nobody knows where?”
“Yes, I have no idea where he has gone,” Emma said while gesturing to the pile of papers that had been gathered before her. “The only lead we have, which is not really a lead at all, is this list of his recent associates and acquaintances,” she said handing the slip of paper to Donovan.
“He’s been missing for two days, now?” Donovan asked. “Did anyone talk to these people?”
“I did, Mr. Connor, but it was mostly to ask if anyone had seen my missing employer,” Mr. Herst informed him. “I didn’t ask any other questions, so some of the people on that list will probably have to be talked to again.”
“I’m sure that any information could be pertinent to the investigation. Especially when the evidence we already haveis practically nonexistent,” he added as an afterthought dryly, but then he was quick to correct himself when he noticed a concerned look on Emma’s face. “All investigations have to start from the bottom and work their way up. I will start working on it now, and I am going to find your brother.”
“You aren't going to find him. We are,” Emma corrected. And before Donovan could argue, which she could clearly see that he was ready to, she followed up, “You may know investigating and crime and all of that, Mr. Connor, but you don’t know my brother. And for that, you will need my help.”
Donovan’s jaw tightened. He had no argument against her. Especially since he knew her pride in her intelligence. It may have cost her a great deal to call him for assistance, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince her to sit and wait for results.
He shook his head. “Very well. We won’t be taking the carriage, so make sure you are prepared to be doing a great deal of walking.”
“Excellent,” she said with firm enthusiasm. “Where do we start?”
“We start where your brother was last. If anyone knows anything helpful, it is likely the people on this list,” Donovan assured her.
“But they were already asked if they had seen Benjamin or knew where he was,” she said uncertainly.
“That was a good start,” Donovan nodded, “but not the only useful information they could provide. Come, you’ll see what I mean soon enough,” he said confidently and prepared his coat and some materials. “We leave at once. Time is of the essence.”
Emma stood quickly and left to prepare her own things.
Mr. Herst stood in the room for a moment before adding to no one in particular. “I suppose I’ll stay here then. Just in case he comes back.”
Chapter Nine
“Emma, watch out!” A concerned voice drew her attention moments before she felt a strong, firm hand grip her wrist and pull her to the side. Strong arms wrapped around her just as a man, carrying a stack of three wooden crates wider than he was, barreled through. She was so stunned at the near-miss that it took her a second to realize that Donovan had grabbed her and pulled her close against his chest. She tried to thank him but stuttered and blushed profusely.
The London streets, which looked choked and chaotic from the inside of the carriage, now seemed to be a new place altogether. There were crowds and chaos still, but in Emma’s eyes there was a flow to it. Everyone was moving with intent, and if you integrated yourself into that flow you moved with surprising ease. Stop paying attention, and you were likely to be run over by a delivery man or merchant. Emma had to be saved from a man carrying more boxes than allowed him clear sight because she had been distracted by a shipment of passing colorful fabrics on a cart.
“Just try and be careful. Londoners are a lot of things, but unfortunately “observant” and “considerate” are not high on their list of traits,” Donovan warned and gestured for her to follow him closely.
The first place they visited in their investigation was the business of a tailor and haberdashery. The building appeared to be closer to a factory than a shop, but it was more likely something in between. When they walked in, they were greeted by a cheery, portly gentleman who was finely, but humbly dressed.
