His throat cinched. She was so damned precious to him.
How could he lust after her when he should think of her as a sister? How could he even contemplate corrupting the one person who’d been determined to see the best in him? How could he wake up in the middle of the night, with his cock hard as a pike and his mind filled with torrid fantasies of claiming Livy?
The answer to all of that was simple. He could not.
It is good that Livy is leaving for Scotland, he told himself. The absence will help us both. If I am invited to visit, I will make excuses. Surely the months apart will help us both regain our bearings. By then, she will have moved on from her silly tendre and perhaps found a proper suitor. And I…
I will be alone. His chest tightened. As I deserve to be.
Arriving at the study, Ben was ushered in by Strathaven.
“Good afternoon, old boy.” The older man was dressed in a Prussian blue frock coat, his striped silk cravat fashionably knotted. His manner was amiable, with no sign of animosity in his pale-green eyes…thank God. “I have been waiting for you.”
Ben followed the other to the wing chairs by the fire. As he settled into the soft leather, he recalled all the other times they’d reposed here, discussing business and other mutual interests. They shared a similar temperament, being reserved gentlemen who respected the need for privacy.
Strathaven gestured to a cart of refreshments. “Will you take tea or coffee?”
Ben’s illicit thoughts about Livy, coupled with the fact that he was now in her papa’s presence, made him long for something significantly stronger. Strathaven stocked the best whisky, sourced from an ancient distillery in Scotland, but Ben had sworn off drink since his hard-won recovery. Now was not the time to pick up his old bad habits.
“Coffee, please.” Accepting the cup, Ben took a drink of the brew.
“Haven’t seen you of late at the club,” Strathaven said in conversational tones.
“I have been busy.”
Working with Chen to trace the origins of the lethal drug had been a welcome distraction. Ben had spent the last week visiting countless watchmakers, trying to discover the owner of the watch found on Pete’s body, who might also be the source of the drug. Thus far, he’d had no luck.
Chen had fared better with the snuffbox, tracing it to a jeweler on Pall Mall. The jeweler had recognized the box, minus the initials which had been painted on after he’d sold them. Apparently, he’d received a large shipment of the boxes from China several months ago; soon after he’d placed one in the shop window, a manservant had come by and purchased the lot. Unfortunately, the jeweler had no further information about the servant or his employer.
The dead end did not deter Ben. He was determined to forge on in the investigation. To ensure that Pete’s death would not go unanswered for.
Strathaven lifted his dark brows. “Anything of note?”
“Just business.” Ben switched the subject. “How are the trip preparations for Scotland coming along?”
“You know my duchess. She has everything well in hand.” Strathaven’s eyes held a glint of amusement. “My job is to stay out of her way.”
“Is that why you are hiding in the study?”
“Not hiding, my friend. Enjoying one of the many perquisites of marriage,” the duke said a bit smugly. “Emma excels at domestic management, and I am happy to let her have at it. In fact, she baked my favorite cake…probably to distract me and keep me out of her hair, but I have no complaints. Care for a slice?”
Having sampled the lady’s culinary skills—which were highly unusual for a duchess—Ben did not turn down the offer. The cake was delicious, light and fluffy, layered with a citrus curd and whipped cream. Not for the first time, he felt a pang of envy. He wondered what it would be like to have a wife who cared about one’s preferences and made one’s life easier, not more difficult. A wife who was loving and devoted and who demanded the same in return from her husband.
“Surely you did not invite me over merely to boast?” he asked mildly.
Strathaven’s lips twitched. “Not to boast, no. Perhaps to lead by example.”
“You forget that I’ve been married.” Hearing the bitterness seep through, Ben lightened his tone. “Marriage is an institution which I have no desire to be locked into again.”
“Not all marriages are like Bedlam. But I take your point that it is not a decision to be made lightly.” Strathaven’s expression turned somber. “And that brings me to the reason I asked you here today: I would like for you to keep an eye on Livy.”
Ben stilled. “What do you mean? She’ll be in Scotland with you, won’t she?”
“There has been a change of plans.” Strathaven drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Livy has set her heart on joining some charity headed by Lady Fayne. Apparently, this group aims to help females in unfortunate circumstances, and Livy has decided she must start straight away. She asked to remain in London while our family sojourns in Scotland.”
“Surely you are not going to allow it?” Ben asked in disbelief. “A girl her age, alone in Town unsupervised?”
“Of course I would not allow her to be unsupervised.” Strathaven frowned. “She will be staying with Lady Fayne, who has offered to be her chaperone. And Fiona Garrity and Glory Cavendish will be part of this group as well.”
Unease prickled through Ben. Since when had Livy been interested in genteel charities? She was not the pamphlet-writing, handkerchief-sewing type.
Suspicion brewed in him. “And you trust this Lady Fayne?”
“My wife has entertained Lady Fayne several times and is quite taken with her. Says the lady is a ‘modern woman’…whatever that means.” Strathaven crossed his long legs. “I, myself, have made discreet inquiries into Lady Fayne’s background. Although she has not been in London long, the sticklers sing her praises. Even the
