coat sleeve. “Does it not disturb you?”
“A great many things disturb me,” Sebastian said. “What exactly are you referring to?”
“Knowing powerful people are plotting your death.”
“Of course it does.” Sebastian started to lift his own spirits to his lips and then recalled his inability to subdue his enemy last night, with Catherine in the house. He set the drink aside. “But it’s a circumstance I’ve operated under since becoming chief more than a decade ago.”
“Allow me to send for a few guards. As a precaution.”
The viscount, along with Cora and Helsford, had argued long and hard against Sebastian’s refusal to bring guards to Bellamere, but Sebastian wanted to spend his time in the country in relative peace and isolation.
He hadn’t counted on Bellamere being in disarray, and he certainly hadn’t counted on Catherine.
“No,” Sebastian said. “The addition of guards would alert anyone who might be watching that I suspect something’s amiss. Get me something to work with—find Latymer, identify his companion, and increase your efforts where Reeves is concerned. Rule nothing out.”
Sebastian thought back to the afternoon when he saw a blond-haired man leaving Winter’s Hollow. A friend of Ashcroft’s—John Chambers—or so Catherine had said. But something in her tone, possibly the slight hesitation before she answered, made him question the veracity of her answer. What possible reason would she have for lying to him?
“Do me a favor,” Sebastian said. “See if you can track down any information on a John Chambers.”
“Where does he fit into all this?”
“Unknown, at the moment. He might be somehow acquainted with Ashcroft.”
“Anything else?”
Sebastian rubbed his forehead and squeezed the bridge of his nose, not liking what he was about to do but knowing he would do it anyway. “Yes.” He clasped his hands together on his desk. “Find out if Mrs. Ashcroft met with anyone while in London and see if you can identify the gentleman who paid her a visit three days ago.”
“John Chambers, I take it?” Danforth asked.
“Yes.” Sebastian sagged back in his chair, feeling more tired than he could ever remember being. If he could just close his eyes for a few minutes, perhaps the pain in his head would ease. “Notify me once you’ve learned more.”
“Somerton, about you and Mrs. Ashcroft—”
“Don’t.”
Danforth’s lips thinned.
Leaning forward, Sebastian said, “Your concern is appreciated. Let us continue to act, rather than react.” He considered Danforth’s tendency for rash action. “Keep a level head about this.”
The viscount nodded, recalling an instant when he hadn’t followed orders and had placed his loved ones in danger. “What if the trail leads back to Ashcroft’s widow?”
“Tell me, but leave her to me.” Sparks of white light flashed across his vision, and Sebastian fought to clear them away.
Danforth stood. “I’ll report back once I have more information.” He strode toward the door, but his steps slowed until he finally stopped.
Sebastian knew what the viscount was about before he ever turned around. Danforth never backed down from a fight, especially when the skirmish involved someone he cared for.
“Listen, about the widow—”
“Save it, Danforth. I will keep my wits about me. Now, be gone.” Sebastian fought to keep his eyelids open. “And do be careful. I have no wish to feel your sister’s wrath.”
Danforth stood his ground, revealing a hint of his legendary stubbornness. “Grayson mentioned a dead girl at your doorstep.”
“A domestic issue, nothing more,” Sebastian lied. “Besides, she was hardly found at my doorstep.”
The viscount snorted. “I have never known you to be so blind to your surroundings.”
Sebastian pressed a hand against his roiling stomach and shook his head in a vain attempt to focus his blurred vision. “Mind who you are speaking to, Danforth…” His eyes rolled back in his head and he pitched forward.
Fifteen
August 14
The pleasant breeze blowing across the lake did nothing to alleviate Catherine’s concern for Sebastian. This morning, after failing to rouse him from slumber, she went on to meet with each of the craftsmen, then returned to report her progress. That’s when she had received the unwelcome news from Lord Danforth that Sebastian was unwell.
Not considering the impropriety of the request, Catherine had asked to see him. The viscount refused admittance, and her angry reaction ignited a disagreeable argument that continued to ring in her ears, even hours later.
“Mama, you have that funny look again.”
Catherine glanced down at her daughter. They sat on a large flat rock at the lake’s edge, their bare feet dangling in the murky water below. “What look is that, dear?”
Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s the same one