Behind them, Dewhurst chuckled.
Alex glared at her. “What has that got to do with anything?”
She sighed. “If you can’t trust me, how will I ever trust you, Selbourne?”
He gave her an exasperated look, raking a hand through his wavy hair. “All right. For what it’s worth, I do trust you, Lucia.”
She shook her head. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” His mouth barely moved when he spoke.
“No, you don’t,” she repeated blithely. The look he shot her was murderous, and she quickly continued, “I have repeatedly told you that John isn’t in Town, but you refuse to believe me.”
His jaw tightened. “Because there isn’t enough evidence yet to confirm it. That’s what Freddie’s for.”
“Hmm.” Lucia pursed her lips and slanted a glance at Dewhurst, now picking through a stack of bright yellow silks. She dropped her voice. “Lord Dewhurst seems a questionable choice.” She tapped a finger to her lips, looked back at Alex. “He’s a dandy, not an intellectual.”
“Appearances can be deceptive.”
She arched her brows. “What does that mean?”
“It means that Dewhurst shows you only what he wants you to see.”
Lucia couldn’t help but wonder if Alex was doing the same.
“Here is the inventory, my lords,” the clerk cried, bustling back into the shop, paper held aloft.
“Very good, sir,” Alex replied, moving away from her to take the paper. Lucia followed, leaning forward to peer at it, but Selbourne folded it then tucked it into his coat. He turned to leave.
“Oh!” the clerk called out. “I almost neglected to ask, Lord Dewhurst, do you want a special pocket in the waistcoat?”
“Special pocket?” Dewhurst repeated, the flippant tone absent from his voice for the first time. He exchanged a look with Alex.
“Yes. When I looked at Mr. Dashing’s account, I noticed he’d requested the addition of a special pocket on the last waistcoat he purchased. Surely he told you about the special pocket? He was most pleased with it.”
“Of course,” Selbourne said, clapping a hand on Dewhurst’s shoulder. “There’s no question of the pocket. Dewhurst wouldn’t take the waistcoat without it.”
Chapter Ten
“What do you think the clerk meant about a special pocket in John’s waistcoat?” Lucia asked Alex, who was seated across from her in her father’s carriage. Alex frowned.
“Do you think that could be important?” Her heart was beating fast now, her excitement mounting at the prospect of a promising discovery.
“Possibly,” Alex answered, his tone indifferent.
She sighed and looked at Dewhurst, seated beside Alex, for support. He gave her a sympathetic look. “Unfortunately, Miss Dashing, it’s not unusual for a gentleman to request particular additions to his garments.”
Despite Dewhurst’s obvious effort to temper her enthusiasm, her pulse jumped. She sat forward. “What if John ordered the special pocket to hide something? Something to do with his disappearance?”
Alex scowled and shook his head at her. “You’re making too much of this, Lucia.”
“I suppose,” she acknowledged, some of her excitement fading. “But it might mean something.”
“Looks to me like you have a regular bluestocking here, Selbourne,” Dewhurst interjected. “Brains and beauty all in one. What a pleasant surprise.”
He was changing the topic, but he did it so smoothly, Lucia had to smile. “Lord Dewhurst, I can see how you earned your reputation as the most charming man in London.”
“Thank you, m’dear, but, alas, that title goes to my cousin Sir Sebastian Middleton. By the by, Selbourne, have you spoken to him about the, er, matter we discussed?”
