by Robyn DeHart
“You can leave all the pertinent information with me. I shall see to it that Lord Chanceworth sees it immediately. Upon his return, of course,” Caroline said.
“Miss Jellico, you are most helpful,” he said with an awkward grin.
After the solicitor left, she straightened the papers he’d left and set them neatly on Roe’s desk. She would discuss all of that with him when he returned. For now, though, she thought perhaps a visit to Dover House was in order. Perhaps she could discover some of the discrepancies on her own. Certainly Roe would appreciate that.
Not a half hour later, Caroline found herself back on the steps at Dover House. Today when the door opened though it was not Mrs. Hancock standing on the other side, but rather a small girl. She looked to be about ten.
“Is Mrs. Hancock here?” Caroline asked.
The girl shook her head, then opened the door wider.
The girl must be mistaken. They couldn’t be in the house unsupervised. “My name is Caroline. I’ll be helping now with Dover House and I wanted to look around, to see how things looked. Would that be all right with you?”
The girl bobbed her head and then skipped away, leaving Caroline standing in the empty corridor alone. She had already seen some of this first floor on her way to the meeting the other day. She was pleased to note the room still smelled of lemon, which meant that the cleaning hadn’t merely taken place for the benefit of the board members.
Caroline headed straight for the staircase that led to the upper floors. She went to the top, deciding to work her way down. The stairs creaked and moaned as she climbed, but soon she found herself on the highest floor. She went along the corridor and found a row of closed doors. She opened the first one to discover an empty room. There was nothing—not an armoire, no beds, not even curtains. The next several rooms were much the same, in varying degrees of emptiness. Some held a few random chairs and a couple had worn curtains, but mostly they were empty, lifeless rooms.
Caroline made her way down the opposite corridor and again was faced with several doors. She opened them one-by-one and found that these were not empty, though they still seemed lifeless. There were rows of small beds or cots in several of the rooms, but they were bare of bedding. The dust on the floor suggested the rooms had not been disturbed in quite a while.
Peculiar. She could have sworn that in the meeting the other day Mr. Lamb had said that they had nearly full occupancy, with only one wing being readied for new girls. She went down to the floor below her and found a similar structure, several rooms on both sides of the staircase.
“Who are you?” a girl’s voice asked from behind Caroline.
Caroline turned to find the girl from the front door standing next to an older girl, presumably the one who had spoken. “I’m Caroline. And who are you?” she asked, making certain her voice was friendly.
“Gretchen.” She reached behind her to grab on to the smaller girl. “This is my sister, Fiona. She doesn’t talk.”
Caroline smiled. “Well, it is quite lovely to meet you both, Gretchen and Fiona. I was looking around to see how things are for you girls.”
Gretchen’s jaw clenched and she gave a curt shake of her head.
“Have others been by to inspect the house?” Caroline asked. “Other adults who work on the board?”
Gretchen shook her head. “No one ever comes to visit.”
Caroline’s heart clenched. She knew what it was like to be alone in this world. No, she’d never been in this situation. She’d been fortunate and had been surrounded by privilege and people her entire life. But she knew what it was like to not have a family of her own. “How many of you are there?”
“Girls?” Gretchen asked, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Never counted. But we fill up one whole floor.” She looked behind her at her sister. “There’s about ten of us sleeping in our room. Then a bunch of girls in the other rooms.”
If Caroline’s calculations were correct, that meant there were about eighty girls in total. A far cry from the one-hundred-seventy-five Mr. Lamb claimed they had. There was still much of the building to see, but she wanted to get home and inform Roe. This, coupled with the information the solicitor had brought, might be enough for something to be done about Mr. Lamb. Of course, she had originally intended to make this visit so she could share some of the information with Mr. Bishop and other potential benefactors, but there was no sense in collecting more funds until they knew where the money was going.
“Well, then girls, I do hope I shall see you again soon.” Caroline made her way down the stairs. She looked back up when she reached the bottom floor and saw the two girls still standing there, watching her. She vowed in that moment she would do whatever it took to make their lives better. With a little wave, she slipped out the front door.
…
Roe returned home to find Caroline waiting in his study. He was struck by how perfectly normal she looked sitting in his favorite reading chair, a book balanced in her lap. She folded the book over her hand and looked up at him.
“Where the devil have you been? I’ve been waiting for hours,” she said.
“I didn’t realize you were waiting for me.”
“Yes, well, I have much to tell you. First, your solicitor, Mr. Simpson, stopped by. He waited for a while, but had to leave for another appointment. I didn’t know when you’d return so he left papers with me.”
“I had luncheon with Justin. He says hello, by the by.” He came over and sat in the chair next to her. “What did Mr. Simpson want?”
“Evidently, there is a discrepancy in what Mr. Lamb told you as far as the vendor who had an outstanding bill. Mr. Simpson was told by one person that the vendor hadn’t been used in over six months, and yet another person managed to find receipts to send to his office through post.”
Roe said nothing for a moment. He took an even breath. This was the sort of conversation a man had with his wife. It was a notion that should bother him, but he found himself quite comfortable with the scenario. That was concerning. He shook off the feeling.
“You were suspicious,” she said.
“Of Mr. Lamb?” He inclined his head. “Yes, I was.”
She set the book on the table next to her and leaned forward. “Why?”
He gave a slight shrug. “Years of observing people, I suppose. He seemed twitchy.”
“Twitchy?” She grinned. “That’s not even a word. I’m not certain I want to know how you’d describe me.”
Lovely, seductive, intelligent, tempting…all of those words came to mind. He wasn’t too eager to share that with her, however. “The point is I do not trust him. I didn’t the moment I walked into the room. I don’t mind giving my money to charities, especially those with good causes, but I will not give money to weasels who misuse funds.”
“And you’re certain that’s happening?” she asked.
“Fairly, but I have no concrete proof, merely a hunch.” He crossed his leg over his knee. “So what is the second thing?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Well, you said, ‘first,’ and then you told me about Mr. Simpson. What is the second thing you wanted to speak to me about?”
“Right.” She took a few breaths and then shrugged. “I went to Dover House to look around.”
“Did Mr. Lamb see you?” If he didn’t trust the man with his money he sure as hell didn’t trust him alone with Caroline.
“No, he wasn’t there. Nor was Mrs. Hancock, which I found odd, at best. Certainly they must have adults in the house with the children at all times,” she said.
“Perhaps she was occupied.”
“Perhaps. In any case, I also discovered a discrepancy.”
“What precisely did you discover?”
“Well, I had intended to visit Dover House so I could speak of it with authority to potential benefactors like Mr. Hopkins, the American I met at the ball the other night.”
Roe tried to ignore the flash of jealousy that flared inside him.
&
nbsp; “In any case, I started at the top story and worked my way down, noticing that they have a large amount of empty space. Entire rooms that are empty of even a curtain. The whole floor at the top is like this. I also spoke to one of the girls, and if what she told me is accurate, then there are only about seventy or eighty girls living there.”
“According to Mr. Lamb’s documents, there are more than double that.”
“Precisely,” she said with a nod.
“The girl could be wrong with her arithmetic.”
“I suppose that is a possibility, though she seemed rather intelligent.” She looked up at Roe. “It does seem to be something we could look further into, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I would. Perhaps I need to visit with Mrs. Hancock.”
“You aren’t intending to ask Mr. Lamb about these issues?”
“Not yet. I’m going to look into matters first.” He eyed the book she’d set down. Traité des Substitutions et des équations algébriques. “I was not aware you could read French.”
She shrugged. “There are probably plenty of things you don’t know about me.”
That was no doubt true. Yet he found himself wishing he knew all of those things, all of her secrets, like the fact that she read Algebra texts in French. “As I was saying, I want to look into matters with Mr. Lamb first. He’s the sort of person who would simply disappear if he had to, and I’d prefer to know specifically what is happening at Dover House.”
“Since you were out so long this morning, I had plenty of time to consider the matter and I have a suggestion,” she said.
“Yes?”
“I think we should follow him. I know he plays at Rodale’s. I played him one night. Well, Grey played him. I recognized him when he walked into the board meeting.”
Roe considered her words. He had not realized Nigel Lamb was a gambler. “What kind of player is he?”
“As I recall, he’s not overly competent. He’s also not talkative the way some of the other players are. Especially Finley. That man never stops gossiping. He’s worse than a woman.”
“I don’t remember anyone being overly verbose at your table, except for Cabot goading me.”
She chuckled. “You scared the devil out of them. They all stopped talking when you sat down. Moments before you arrived at the table Finley was regaling us with an affair between a housekeeper and an earl. Most fascinating.”
“I am sorry I missed that,” Roe said. It was one thing to meet Mr. Lamb at Dover House, but Caroline had observed him at a card table. It was the ultimate reveal of a person’s character. “Back to Mr. Lamb. So he was not a skilled player, but what are your other impressions?”
“I do not trust him. He seems, I don’t know, desperate, agitated. Perhaps it’s that twitchy attribute you mentioned,” she said with a grin.
“You think I should follow him around to see what he’s doing?”
She shook her head. “No, I think we should follow him.” She inhaled slowly. “And I’d suggest you allow me to play him again. As Grey.”
“Absolutely not.” Roe held up his hand. “No, it’s far too dangerous.” He shook his head.
“It’s truly not that dangerous. I’m certain Boomer would accompany me again. He is a burly fellow, much larger than the slight Mr. Lamb. He can keep me protected.”
“And you playing him, what will that solve?” But Roe knew the answer to that question even as he asked it. There was much they could glean about a person sitting across from them with cards in their hand. Everything from the way a person wagered, to what they drank, to the choices they made with each hand. And of course, they would be able to discover much about Mr. Lamb’s financials.
“I can gather more information about him. Watch him, see how he plays. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they handle their funds and their cards.”
It was a sentiment Roe had expressed on many occasion before, one he’d probably told Caroline himself when he’d taught her to play so many years before. She’d been but a girl. Fifteen, he seemed to remember, and he’d taught her to play as a way to get her mind off her brother’s untimely death, and the fact that she suddenly had been left alone in the world. Frankly, it had been the only way he’d known how to interact with her, a selfish tool of distraction because he hadn’t wanted to tell her the truth about Christopher’s death.
“You can tell Justin, let him know I’ll be there in disguise, and he can pull me out if there’s any indication of a problem,” she said. “I will be safe, Roe.”
She was wearing him down. He hated that. But she had a point. He couldn’t very well play the man himself. The duke’s presence in the back room had caused enough trouble the first time he’d done it to play Caroline, and it would rattle Mr. Lamb enough that any observations would be inaccurate. Caroline was really in the best position to do it.
Roe exhaled slowly and Caroline’s smile lit up the room. “I promise to be careful.”
“One night, Caroline, that’s all.” She came to her feet and before he knew what was happening she’d lunged herself at him, giving him a big hug.
It started out innocent, an embrace of gratitude, but he was instantly aware of her form, her very feminine body with her soft curves and those legs he knew went on forever. Damnation, but he longed to see those legs, to trail his finger from toe to the delicious apex that awaited between her legs.
She stepped backwards, her face flushed, pupils dilated. “Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out in a tight whisper.
He swore, then pulled her back to him and pressed his mouth down on hers. She responded immediately, threading her fingers into his hair and kissing him back. Her tongue slid against his and he growled in response. It was becoming obvious that he had no defenses against her. And he didn’t want any. She arched against him, pouring into the kiss the full range of her emotions. She met him touch for touch. Her hands were greedy as they explored his chest, and he cursed the fact that he still wore clothes. He grabbed her bottom and pressed her to him. She released a soft whimper in response and he nearly lost control.
Her touch—her desire—stirred his hunger like nothing else ever had. He wanted her, in that moment, in a way he’d never wanted another woman, and he knew with alarming clarity that he’d never want another woman the way he wanted Caroline. It was that thought that stilled his hands and gave him the strength to step away from her.
He tried to think of something soothing to say, something that would explain his actions, but there were no words. He was a selfish ass.
“Be ready tonight. For Rodale’s.” And then he left the room.
Chapter Nine
Caroline sat across from Roe in the carriage dressed as Mr. Grey, the boy who loved cards. It was unnerving to find her so damned attractive even when she dressed as a man, but there was a reason why women did not wear trousers. The pants cupped her curves, her rounded hips, and delicious bottom. He’d nearly swallowed his own tongue while helping her up into the carriage. Not only that, but he could certainly see how long those legs were in those trousers. Though partly hidden in a pair of dirty boots, Roe could still tell they were heavenly long and shapely.
She had obviously bound her breasts, as there was no hint she had anything but a flat chest. Her lovely hair was stuffed into a hat so that only the fringe at the front showed. It hung over her eyes just enough to hide her long curling lashes. The smudges on her cheeks, nose, and fingers finished the look, making her appear like a dirty chimney sweep. She looked adorable. He wanted her, there was no denying that, but he knew he couldn’t have her.
One touch and he’d ruin her, then he’d have to marry her; he wouldn’t be a complete cad. But he had no intention of marrying her because she deserved so much more than the likes of him. He knew what men in his family did to their wives—they cheated and berated them. What’s more, he knew he was capable of such things. He’d given things a try with Penelope and damned if he hadn’t begun the same road his father had taken before him
. Roe had been tempted, had ended up with another woman in his arms. Yes, he’d stopped himself just short of bedding that woman. Still, in his mind, the damage had been done. So he’d vowed not to marry anyone. The damned title could die with him. It was what his father deserved. It was what the lot of the Grisham men deserved. Roe would not touch her. Kissing her was one thing, but he knew once he put his hands on her skin, there would be no turning back. He’d never get enough of her.
“This is not going to work,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Her head snapped up to look at him. She’d been inspecting her fingernails. “Why ever not?”
“You look like a damned chit,” he said, his words coming out in a growl.
“Only because you know that is what I am,” she said with a shake of her head. “You didn’t know it the first few times you saw me. There’s no reason to believe he’ll come to the same conclusion. I believe it was you who told me once that people see what they want to see. Mr. Lamb won’t be expecting a woman across the table tonight, and he’ll see me as a man.”
“You can tell by your damned arse that you’re a woman. Men don’t have arses like that.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I feel as if I should apologize, but that seems ridiculous. I shall be sitting so I think it’s safe to say no one will be looking at my arse.”
“And that.” He pointed at her. “Men don’t bloody well blush.”
“Of course they do. Men are ruddy, and they can be shy just as women can be.”
“I don’t like it,” Roe said. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at her.
“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear, but even you can’t suggest a better way to gather information on Mr. Lamb.” She smoothed her hands down her pants legs. “Besides, you might not like it, but after tonight perhaps we’ll have a better idea of what Mr. Lamb is all about. Consider that.”
He nodded, but remained uncertain. “If something happens to you—”
