She snuck a glance at him again. The Duke of Mortimer was more than a handsome man—he was a sculpture of perfection. On the outside. Chiseled jawline. Amber eyes that saw straight through a person’s soul. Brown hair with a reddish tint that feathered his cheeks almost mischievously, even though she couldn’t say one tendril of hair was out of place.
But now was not the time to observe a man’s beauty!
A pinch of guilt made its way to her breast as she recalled the reason he was searching for the book. She shouldn’t have been so careless with it, especially since its pages contained the evidence he needed to put away criminals.
“It’s late,” she said. “You should head back to your lodgings. I shall continue the search in the morning. I’m certain I shall find it when I’m more refreshed.”
“You are absolutely sure someone has not taken it?”
“Who would do such a thing?” No one except Theodosia, that madman Saville, and the duke knew she even had the book in her possession. “I’ll search all the places I might have taken the book. If one of the servants did decide to put it away, they might have taken it in my father’s study or the library.”
She could tell he didn’t like that answer. Not that any of his facial musclesmovedwhen he received the news—anything butthat—but the tension in the room stirred, faint yet impossible to miss. A whisper of danger. It was a feeling she got rather than anything she could see.
“Do not worry,” she tried to reassure him. “Our families might not get along, but I give you my word that I shall search for the book in the morning and send word to you when I find it.”
Those hot eyes never left hers as he continued to observe her. “Very well,” he said slowly. “I shall look forward to receiving your good news.”
Louisa nodded. “By the by, where are you staying? If I am to send news, I should know.”
“I am staying at the Bullheaded Inn.”
The...? A bubble of laughter escaped through her mouth. If that wasn’t an apt name for the man to call a temporary home, Louisa didn’t know what would be! “An interesting choice.”
“Will your parents be returning anytime soon?” he asked, ignoring that last.
“Do not fret; they are traveling about for a fortnight or so. They certainly shan’t return on the morrow.”
He gave a curt nod. “Then I shall be on my way.”
Louisa watched him slip from the room with her brows deepening. If the light yet prominent scent of sandalwood hadn’t remained, she might have thought this whole affair a dream. At least for this moment, she couldn’t claim it was any form of herimagination. Would she still be able to claim such a thing in the morning?
She inhaled deeply.
Normally, she didn’t care for this scent. But on the duke... he smelled rather wonderful.
It’s best if you stop liking it altogether, Louisa.
The man was no friend to her family. Granted, she herself paid no mind to whatever grievances her father and whoever else had with the duke’s family. However, that did not mean it would be the same for him.
She certainly couldn’t tell what he might be thinking. He might truly detest her presence. She’d grown up with tales of the Mortimer clan and had half expected the man to be cold as frost. Yet, while his countenance might as well have frozen over, heat still pulsed from his body.
She sighed, her gaze falling on the mess beside her bed.
What an impossible situation.
*
Nerves had neverbeen an issue for Oliver, yet now they consumed him. He’d had the nerve to enter the Talbot residence. The nerve to gather information against one of his peers. And even the nerve to search a lady’s bedchamber. But he had never once been nervous.Thosenerves had always remained in check, carefully bundled and tightly controlled. A skill he had honed from an age he could scarcely recall. A discipline that hadn’t been challenged. Until she brushed past him in the kitchen, their hands briefly touching. The smallest of touches, the faintest of scents.
And a bundle of those nerves slipped free.
Oliver chose a chair at the bar and sat down, signaling to the barman. “Tea, please.”
The man arched a brow at him. “You are aware that you’re in a tavern.”
“I am. And I’ll have that tea, if you don’t mind.”
The man shrugged. “Very well, but you’ll have to wait a few minutes.”
