I entertain half-naked young ladies?”
She blushed furiously. “Neither!”
“Really? Because it sounded like one or the other, to me…”
This was the James she knew. Despite his teasing – or rather, because of it – she was suddenly much more at ease. “I’m sure you meet any number of half-naked young ladies, but daren’t bring them here for fear of what your brother would say.”
“Extraordinary. That was meant to be your cue to fly into a jealous tantrum.”
“I thought I’d already covered that the other night at your offices.”
“I suppose you rather did. You’re not worried about Nancy any more?”
“No.” She truly wasn’t. At this moment, in his presence, it seemed ridiculous that she ever had.
He’d had a wash, too, and removed his tie and jacket. She’d no idea whether this was to put her at ease in her undressed state, or whether he expected to undress further. The idea made her tremble, although she wasn’t afraid. Not in the usual sense, at least.
“Your hair.” He touched the shining strands. “Were you sorry to cut it?”
She shook her head, a tiny movement, lest he withdraw his hand. “I didn’t think about how it felt. It had to be done.”
“Will it take long to grow back?”
“I don’t think so. It grows so fast.”
“Mmm.” His fingers slipped down to explore the curve of her neck. “This was a weak point in your boyish disguise, you know.”
“What – my neck?” Even her disbelief sounded breathless.
He smiled. “Too long. Too slender. And” – he leaned down to plant a light kiss on her collarbone – “not nearly grimy enough.”
She exploded with laughter. “Is that a complaint?”
Mrs Vine entered, balancing a heavy tray. She set it down and turned to Mary. “I beg your pardon, Miss Quinn, but in preparing your trousers for laundering, I found this in your pocket. Do you wish to retain it?”
“This” was the twisted paper she had filched from Reid that afternoon; the thing she’d been trying to remember before tipsiness and James pushed all logic and strategy from her mind. She seized it with an over-loud “Yes, thank you!” Her horror must have been evident in her face. But Mrs Vine remained as carefully expressionless as ever, merely inclining her head before leaving the room with swift, noiseless steps.
“What is it?”
In answer, she unfolded it carefully and showed it to him. “It fell out of Reid’s pocket at the pub this afternoon.”
“It fell? Or did you help it?”
She grinned. “No, I didn’t steal it. But neither did I restore it to him.” She turned it over and pointed to the dark pencil marks that seemed to grow from one corner of the envelope. They formed a simple design of tall, narrow triangles, every other one of which was shaded in. “Is this familiar?”
James swallowed hard. After a frozen moment, he nodded with obvious reluctance. “It completes the circle.”
“Does it?” She hated the expression of misery on his face.
“Of course it does,” he snapped. “It wouldn’t convict him in a court of law, but those marks – they’re inarguable. Harkness can’t help but draw them when he’s thinking with a pencil in hand. They’re all over the accounts ledger, and his working drawings, and now they’re here. This envelope is proof that he’s connected with the bricklayers’ thefts.”
“Reid may have pinched it.”
“What would Reid want with an old envelope? No, never mind that. Think of it the other way: Harkness’s involvement explains how the bricklayers could steal so much for so long.”
She was silent. The envelope markings showed clearly enough that it had passed from Harkness’s hand to Reid’s, at the very least. It wasn’t a pay packet, so that could safely be ruled out. And it was a dainty piece of stationery – much too small to contain architectural drawings, for example. She smoothed the envelope under her fingers. It was well-worn, dented at the corners and grubby with finger marks. It had never been addressed, never stamped – and that was logical enough, since who would trust illicit information to the penny post?
As she stared at this bit of evidence, a new sense of dismay rose within her. If Reid and Keenan had become reconciled this afternoon, Keenan would now be aware that she, too, knew about their scheme. And even if Reid and Keenan were still at odds, Keenan might still have extracted the information from Reid. Mary had no doubt that he was ruthless enough to turn on his friend and colleague; perhaps even to use violence to