He ignored her curt tone as he crossed the room to crouch beside her and peer into the trunk containing a variety of random possessions, including a collection of slim clothbound books.
“I’m just doing as you’ve instructed, duchess. Keeping you advised of any progress.”
With a heavy sigh, she set the book she’d been examining into the trunk and sat back on her heels. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
The lady apologized. This was new. Mason held back his humor. “I’ve gotten a report on your list of names.”
Her eyes widened with curiosity. “Was anything pertinent uncovered?”
Mason shrugged. “You’re more equipped to answer that.” He handed her the letter and watched as she read through Morley’s succinct notations with furrowed brows. He’d already gone through it himself, but none of the idle nobles or fellow researchers of Charles Blackwell’s recent acquaintance appeared to have any history of criminal behavior or apparent motive for the kidnapping of a young duke.
Even though he hadn’t seen anything strikingly suspect in the findings, he was hopeful she might.
When she tensed and parted her lips on a swift breath, Mason leaned closer. He couldn’t stop himself from taking in a deep breath of her scent. The floral, feminine essence stirred the desire in his blood, sparking heat along his nerves. “What is it?”
She rested an elegant finger alongside one of the names. “Lord Emsworth. I didn’t know of him personally, but I recall he sent his condolences upon Father’s death. It says here that he funds a society dedicated to the exploration of unmapped regions in the Americas.”
“So it does. And that’s pertinent because...?”
Her dark eyes met his and he had to grind his back teeth to keep from reacting to the sensual impact of her full focus. Now that he’d looked into those deep brown eyes while the woman trembled in the midst of her climax, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever be able to meet her gaze without getting hard.
“In the months leading up to his death, my father was studying a plant that had only recently been discovered. The natives of the region used the herb in certain spiritual ceremonies, and my father had been tasked with determining whether it might be developed into an agent of sedation for use during medical procedures and such. That plant came from South America. Lord Emsworth could be the unnamed patron who’d requested the study.”
“Certainly possible, but why does that matter?”
“My father’s experiments proved the plant’s elements were unstable and dosing would be highly sensitive and potentially dangerous. His last entry indicated an intention to discontinue his work on the project. My father was dedicated to herbalism and pharmaceutical study. His passion was in exploring ways the elements of nature could improve our modern lives. That he would willfully choose to destroy his own work was unprecedented.”
Mason frowned as a tingle of apprehension crossed his nape. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
She glanced down at the books in the trunk. When she spoke, it was with a slight reluctance, as though she were still sorting her thoughts on the topic. “It’s nothing he stated outright, but I keep sensing something hinted at between the lines. I think my father was worried that whoever requested the study had dishonorable intentions. He didn’t survive the fire that consumed his lab. Presumably, neither did the journals containing the formulas and methods he’d used in his experiments.” Her expression was stern as she returned her gaze to his. “My father was meticulous in employing safety measures for everything he did. His reflections indicate that he was fully aware of the volatile nature of what he was working with.”
“What are you thinking, dove?”
She turned to face him more squarely. “If a person lacking in honor and integrity wanted to have a drug designed for nefarious purposes, would they be the type of person who allowed anyone, even a duke, to stand in their way? What if my father’s work wasn’t destroyed in the fire but was actually stolen? What if the fire wasn’t an accident at all?”
Mason’s blood chilled. “You think he was murdered?”
Her gaze was steady as she replied, “I think it’s possible that someone who ordered the kidnapping of a young boy and the drowning of two men could also have it in him to arrange to have my father killed for his notes.”
The theory sounded plausible, but it was based solely on speculation. “How would Freddie fit into all this?”
“That’s the part I haven’t been able to figure out.” Her expression darkened as she released a ragged breath. “I can’t explain it, but I feel it’s connected. Somehow...”
He rose to his feet and offered a hand to assist her in rising as well. Despite the somber subject matter, the warm slide of her palm stirred his blood. What had she done to him?
Resting his hands on her shoulders, he brushed his thumbs along the bottom edge of her jaw as he looked down at her with a heavy brow. “I’ll have Morley dig deeper into this society and Emsworth’s activities around the time of your father’s death and these last few months. If there’s anything there, we’ll find it.”
“Thank you,” she replied. Her eyes were grave and her expression troubled. A forceful pressure filled Mason’s chest as he detected the fear and frustration she tried hard to contain.
The strong urge to draw her into him and offer comfort in addition to his attempt at assurance was unusual and startling. Instead, he gave a nod and lowered his hands to his sides.
When she turned to close the trunk, he slid a soft gaze over her straight spine and the capable slope of her shoulders. His heart was heavy in his chest.
He wasn’t a comforting sort.
More than that, however...he was certain she wouldn’t accept it.
THE SOUND OF THE CLOCK striking the hour of two in the morning was ominous in the otherwise silent house. Even after the second chime had faded, Katherine continued
