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“Our guest,” Blake replied sarcastically, “is a woman grown. She isn't going to expire from neglect if we leave her to her own devices for a few hours.”
“True, but you might return to find another one of your rooms in shambles.”
“Don't be an ass, Riverdale.”
James made great pretense of studying his fingernails. “You're lucky I don't take offense at such comments.”
“You're lucky I don't ram your bloody tongue down your throat.”
“It's touching to see you so defensive of a woman,” James said with a lazy smile.
“I'm not defensive. And stop trying to bait me.”
James shrugged. “At any rate, one can spy with far more stealth than two. I didn't want to appear conspicuous.”
“Riverdale, you live to be inconspicuous.”
“Yes, it is rather jolly to blend into the woodwork on occasion, isn't it? It's quite amazing what people will say when they don't know who you are. Or,” he added with a wicked smile, “when they don't even know you're there.”
“Did you discover anything?”
“Nothing of import, although Prewitt is definitely living beyond his means. Or at least what his means ought to be.”
Blake picked up another dart and took aim. “Step away.”
James did so, watching without much interest as the dart sailed from Blake's hand to the bull's-eye.
“That's more like it,” Blake murmured. He turned to James and said, “The problem is that we can't automatically assume his money is coming from treasonous activities. If he is indeed carrying messages for Carlotta De Leon, I'm certain he's been paid handsomely for it. However, we also know he smuggles brandy and silk; he's been making a living that way for years. And he certainly could be robbing Caroline's inheritance out from under her.”
“I'd be damned surprised if he weren't.”
“But as it happens,” Blake said with a slightly smug smile, “I did a bit of investigating myself.”
“Did you now?”
“It turns out Prewitt has an office he keeps locked at all times. Caroline wasn't allowed inside, and neither was his son.”
James's face spread into a wide smile. “Bull's-eye.”
“Exactly.” Blake tossed the dart but his aim was wide. “Well, not always exactly.”
“It might be time for a little clandestine visit to Prewitt Hall,” James suggested.
Blake nodded. He wanted nothing more than to wrap up this case, retire from the War Office, and embark upon his new, respectable, and boring life. “I couldn't agree more.”
They found Caroline in the library, sitting under a table.
“What the hell are you doing down there?” Blake demanded.
“What? Oh, good day.” She crawled out. “Do your servants dust down here? I've been sneezing up quite a storm.”
“You didn't answer my question.”
“I was merely going through some of these piles. I'm trying to collect all of your history books.”
“I thought you weren't going to proceed in here until your ankle was better,” Blake said, rather accusingly in her opinion.
“I'm not putting the books back on the shelf yet,” she replied. “I'm just grouping them by subject. I'm not using my ankle at all, which, by the way, is nearly healed. I haven't used my cane even once today, and it hasn't hurt me at all.” She turned to James and beamed. “Oh, and it's lovely to see you again, my lord.”
The marquis smiled and bowed in her direction. “Always a pleasure, my dear Caroline.”
Blake scowled. “We are here for a purpose, Miss Trent.”
“It never occurred to me that you weren't.” She shifted her gaze back to James. “Have you noticed he likes to call me Miss Trent when he is irritated with me?”
“Caroline,” Blake said, his voice clearly laced with warning.
“Of course,” she added blithely, “when he is really angry he reverts to Caroline. He probably finds it too difficult to growl my full name.”
James had his hand over his mouth, presumably to staunch his laughter.
“Caroline,” Blake said in a louder voice, clearly ignoring her jests, “we need your assistance.”
“You do?”
“It has come time for us to gather solid evidence against Prewitt.”
“Good,” Caroline replied. “I should like to see him pay for his crimes.”
James chuckled and said, “Bloodthirsty wench.”
She turned on him with a hurt expression. “That is a terrible thing to say. I'm not in the least bit bloodthirsty. It's merely that if Oliver has been doing all the terrible things you say he has been doing—”
“Caroline, I was just teasing,” James said.
“Oh, well then I'm sorry for overreacting. I should have known you wouldn't be so mean—”
“If the two of you can move past your mutual admiration,” Blake said acidly, “we have important business to discuss.”
Caroline and James turned to him with equally irritated expressions.
“Riverdale and I are going to break into Prewitt Hall,” Blake told her. “We will need you to give us every detail about the schedules of the family and of the servants so that we may avoid detection.”
“You won't need every detail,” she said with a matter-of-fact shrug. “You should simply go tonight.”
Both gentlemen leaned forward and stared at her with questioning eyes.
“Oliver plays cards every Wednesday evening. He never misses a game. He always wins. I think he cheats.”