It's In His Kiss

“Why is that funny?”

“Isabella was a great deal sharper than she let on. If she’d wanted to pick a room that her husband was not likely to enter, she could not have done better than the library. Except for the bedroom, I suppose, but”-he turned and gazed down at her with an annoyingly paternalistic glance-“that’s not a topic for your ears.”

“Stuffy man,” she muttered.

“Not an accusation that is often flung my way,” he said with a slightly amused smile, “but clearly you bring out the best in me.”

He was so patently sarcastic that Hyacinth could do nothing but scowl.

“The library, you say,” Gareth mused, after taking a moment to enjoy Hyacinth’s distress. “It makes perfect sense. My father’s father was no intellectual.”

“I hope that means he didn’t possess very many books,” Hyacinth said with a frown. “I suspect that she left another clue tucked into one.”

“No such luck,” Gareth said with a grimace. “My grandfather might not have been fond of books, but he did care a great deal about appearances, and no self-respecting baron would have a house without a library, or a library without books.”

Hyacinth let out a groan. “It will take all night to go through an entire library of books.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile, and something fluttered in her stomach. She opened her mouth to speak, but all she did was inhale, and she couldn’t shake the oddest feeling that she was surprised.

But by what, she had no idea.

“Perhaps, once you see what’s there, something will suddenly make sense,” Gareth said. He did a little one- shouldered shrug as he steered them around the corner and onto Park Lane. “That sort of thing happens to me all the time. Usually when I least expect it.”

Hyacinth nodded in agreement, still a little unsettled by the strange, light-headed sensation that had just washed over her. “That’s exactly what I’ve been hoping might happen,” she said, forcing herself to reaffix her focus onto the matter at hand. “But Isabella was rather cryptic, I’m afraid. Or…I don’t know…perhaps she wasn’t deliberately cryptic, and it’s just because I can’t translate all the words. But I do think that we may assume that we will find not the diamonds but instead another clue.”

“Why is that?”

She nodded thoughtfully as she spoke. “I’m almost certain that we must look in the library, specifically in a book. And I don’t see how she would have fit diamonds between the pages.”

“She could have hollowed the book out. Created a hiding spot.”

Her breath caught. “I never thought of that,” she said, her eyes widening with excitement. “We will need to redouble our efforts. I think-although I’m not certain-that the book will be one of a scientific topic.”

He nodded. “That will narrow things down. It’s been some time since I was in the library at Clair House, but I don’t recall there being much in the way of scientific treatises.”

Hyacinth screwed up her mouth a little as she tried to recall the precise words in the clue. “It was something having to do with water. But I don’t think it was biological.”

“Excellent work,” he said, “and if I haven’t said so, thank you.”

Hyacinth almost stumbled, so unexpected was his compliment. “You’re welcome,” she replied, once she’d gotten over her initial surprise. “I’m happy to do it. To be honest, I don’t know what I will do with myself when this is all over. The diary is truly a lovely distraction.”

“What is it you need to be distracted from?” he asked.

Hyacinth thought about that for a moment. “I don’t know,” she finally said. She looked up at him, feeling her brows come together as her eyes found his. “Isn’t that sad?”

He shook his head, and this time when he smiled, it wasn’t condescending, and it wasn’t even dry. It was just a smile. “I suspect it’s rather normal,” he said.

But she wasn’t so convinced. Until the excitement over the diary and the search for the jewels had entered her life, she hadn’t noticed how very much her days had been pressed into a mold. The same things, the same people, the same food, the same sights.

She hadn’t even realized how desperately she wanted a change.

Maybe that was another curse to lay at the feet of Isabella Marinzoli St. Clair. Maybe she hadn’t even wanted a change before she’d begun translating the diary. Maybe she hadn’t known to want one.

But now…After this…

She had a feeling that nothing would ever be the same.

“When shall we return to Clair House?” she asked, eager to change the subject.

He sighed. Or maybe it was a groan. “I don’t suppose you’d take it well if I said I was going alone.”

“Very badly,” she confirmed.

“I suspected as much.” He gave her a sideways glance. “Is everyone in your family as obstinate as you?”

“No,” she said quite freely, “although they do come close. My sister Eloise, especially. You haven’t met her. And Gregory.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s a beast.”

“Why do I suspect that whatever he’s done to you, you’ve returned in kind, and then in tenfold?”

She cocked her head to the side, trying to look terribly dry and sophisticated. “Are you saying you don’t believe I can turn the other cheek?”

“Not for a second.”

“Very well, it’s true,” she said with a shrug. She wasn’t going to be able to carry on that ruse for very long, anyway. “I can’t sit still in a sermon, either.”

He grinned. “Neither can I.”

“Liar,” she accused. “You don’t even try. I have it on the best authority that you never go to church.”

“The best authorities are watching out for me?” He smiled faintly. “How reassuring.”

“Your grandmother.”

“Ah,” he said. “That explains it. Would you believe that my soul is already well past redemption?”

“Absolutely,” she said, “but that’s no reason to make the rest of us suffer.”

He looked at her with a wicked glint in his eye. “Is it that deep a torture to be at church without my calming presence?”

“You know what I meant,” she said. “It’s not fair that I should have to attend when you do not.”

“Since when are we such a pair that it’s tit for tat for us?” he queried.

That stopped her short. Verbally, at least.

And he obviously couldn’t resist teasing her further, because he said, “Your family certainly wasn’t very subtle about it.”

“Oh,” she said, barely resisting a groan. “That.”

“That?”

“Them.”

“They’re not so bad,” he said.

“No,” she agreed. “But they are an acquired taste. I suppose I should apologize.”

“No need,” he murmured, but she suspected it was just an automatic platitude.

Hyacinth sighed. She was rather used to her family’s often desperate attempts to get her married off, but she could see where it might be a bit unsettling for the poor man in question. “If it makes you feel better,” she said, giving him a sympathetic glance, “you’re hardly the first gentleman they’ve tried to foist me upon.”

“How charmingly put.”

“Although if you think about it,” she said, “it is actually to our advantage if they do think we might make a match of it.”

“How is that?”

She thought furiously. She still wasn’t sure if she wished to set her cap for him, but she was sure that she didn’t want him to think that she had. Because if he did, and then he rejected her…well, nothing could be more brutal.

Or heartbreaking.

“Well,” she said, making it up as she went along, “we are going to need to spend a great deal of time in each