“She makes rum. From the Dominican Republic. Her father was Scots.” Or at least he assumed the man was no longer of this world, unless Scottish fathers had significantly relaxed their position on what their unmarried daughters were free to do.
“Hispaniola,” Murdoch muttered with interest. “Is she married?”
“I assume not,” he said, pulse kicking up at the question.
“Perhaps we should join Raghav?” Murdoch suggested, and Evan felt a moment’s hesitation. Quite suddenly, going up to the rum maker felt monumentally important. Something he ought to prepare himself for.
“Are you scared of her?” Murdoch’s amusement was starting to grate.
Evan rolled his eyes and started toward her, but in that same moment, Luz walked purposefully in the opposite direction. By the time they’d reached Raghav she was out of sight.
“Where did she go?” Evan asked with such force that Raghav took a step back.
“Good evening to you too, Lord Darnick.”
“Raghav,” Evan warned, “I’m not in the mood for games.” He knew affecting his more commanding voice with his friend would be moot. He did not scare as easily as the rest of the population.
“Tell me how the meeting with your mysterious partner went first.” Raghav was still smiling, but Evan knew he was not asking for sport. If he got this out of the way quickly, he could go and find his heiress.
“I have the will,” he whispered. Raghav’s eyes widened, and for a second Evan feared the man would start clapping, but Evan’s expression seemed to dampen his excitement.
“But...”his business partner prompted reluctantly.
“He has to get married,” Murdoch declared happily, apparently now fully on board with this harebrained idea.
“I don’t follow.”
“My mother’s instructions were for the distillery to be put in my name as a wedding gift,” Evan answered through gritted teeth, eyes still roaming around the room. Where could she have gone?
“Oh my,” Raghav muttered, his eyes impossibly wide.
With every person he told, the reality—and urgency—of his situation became more inescapable. He wished he could just kill his father and be done with it, but that would not be as satisfying as seeing the man ensnared and entrapped by his own greed.
“Precisely. Which is why it’s imperative that we locate that beauty that just escaped us.” Evan heaved a sigh at Murdoch’s incredibly loud voice. By the end of the night everyone in Paris would know about his predicament.
“Miss Heith-Benzan?” Raghav frowned in the direction Luz Alana had departed. “Why?”
“Did you learn more about her?” He attempted to allay the desperation in his voice, but there was no helping it.
“Not much,” Raghav hedged, but Evan knew better. The man could’ve easily left whisky distilling to be a spy at the Home Office—not that he would ever even consider working for the British Crown. If anything, Raghav’s trouble was that once he got people talking, he couldn’t seem to get them to stop.
“Tell me,” he insisted, and Raghav threw both hands up in defeat.
“All right,” he whispered, looking around. “I really don’t like to divulge a lady’s secret, especially one who makes rum of that quality.”
Evan’s mouth tightened. He wanted to be the one tasting her rum.
“Just tell us what she said,” he grumbled, eliciting a speaking glance from his cousin and a derisive one from his friend.
“Well, this I heard from Antonio, the very comely gentleman who accompanied her and her two friends tonight at the reception.” Raghav’s cheeks pinked at the mention of Luz Alana’s companion, then his lips turned up. “They call themselves Las Leonas. It’s rather adorable, and it means—”
“We can deduce. Please get on with it,” Evan urged. Though hewascharmed at the idea of that hellion likening herself and her friends to a pride of lionesses.
“She’s only here for the summer months.”
“She came alone?” Evan interrupted. “No husband, father?”
Raghav shook his head. “She’s here with her friends, but it seems like she’s had to cut the trip short.” Was she going back to Hispaniola so soon?
