The Unexpected Wife - Jess Michaels Page 0,34

this man was a dream.

“Yes,” she said instead, and tried to temper her disappointment when he shot her one more of those world-brightening smiles and then urged the horses back into motion.

Back to the real world, which had its fears and frustrations that she didn’t want to face, even if Owen made them seem a little more bearable. Which was a dangerous thing, indeed.

Chapter 10

Owen stared at the list before him on his desk, but as it had been all afternoon, it blurred before him. It had been two days since he’d spent the afternoon with Celeste and thoughts of her had plagued him ever since. More than thoughts. Dreams. Wicked dreams.

“Pardon me, Mr. Gregory.”

He lifted his head and found his butler was standing in the doorway to his study. “Yes, Cookson?”

“The Earl of Leighton is here to see you. Are you in residence?”

Owen arched a brow, his attention now fully back where it belonged. He hadn’t been expecting Leighton. That the man had arrived here without sending word that he would call was…well, it might mean nothing and it might mean something.

“I’m in,” Owen said. “Show him here.”

Cookson inclined his head, and after he left, Owen got to his feet. The past two days he had been focusing his efforts on the Duke of Gilmore’s guilt or innocence in the murder. Gilmore was a difficult read, and his rage when he’d discovered Montgomery’s duplicitous behavior had been violent and hot.

But now Owen had the opportunity to explore Leighton. He would take that, expected or not.

Cookson reappeared. “The Earl of Leighton, Mr. Gregory.”

Owen rose as Leighton entered. He could see the man was troubled, perhaps hadn’t been sleeping if the circles under his eyes were any indication. Was that from guilt or grief or something else? Certainly the man had a great deal of trouble to wade through, no matter what his involvement in his brother’s death.

“My lord,” Owen said, coming around the desk and offering a hand.

Leighton shook it. “I’m sorry to call without a prior appointment.”

“You needn’t be. You are one of my employers, after all. You are welcome any time. Would you like a drink?”

“I would,” Leighton said with a harsh, humorless laugh. “But I think it’s a bit too early for me. I hope you have time to talk.”

Owen motioned him to the seat across from his desk and then took his place again behind it. “I do. I’m joining the wives at Mrs. Montgomery’s residence, but I have an hour before I must depart. What can I do for you?”

“I was calling to check on your progress. I haven’t heard much from you in the last few days.”

That the man was concerned about the progress of his investigation was a mark in his favor, but perhaps not as strong a one as a layperson might believe. Owen had known many a villain who had pretended interest in the outcome of an investigation to push suspicion away from themselves.

“I’m working through the suspect list,” he said, and it wasn’t a lie.

Leighton leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Is there a point where you will stop pretending I’m not on that list?”

Owen lifted his brows. That was unexpected. “Why do you think you’re a suspect?”

“Because Ras was my estranged half-brother. We had several public altercations, including one just before his death. I cut him off three years ago. And this discovery of his bigamy could and has created a scandal that…” Leighton trailed off with a shake of his head. “It will be years before I am welcomed without whispers and shakes of the head, if I’m ever truly welcomed again. A murder, had it gone off without too much fanfare, might have solved the problem.”

Owen watched the man closely. There were a dozen ways to play out this moment, a dozen ways to react that might bring him the information he required. But honesty was the one that jumped out at him, both because he thought it might have the desired effect and also because he liked the earl.

“Very good points, all. I must consider you, of course. I have. You are lower on my suspect list because the murder didn’t go off without fanfare. Whoever did it left things so that the worst might come out. It would not have served you to do it, though in the heat of passion you could have not been thinking.” He didn’t add that poisoners weren’t usually heat of passion killers. He wanted to see