The Unexpected Wife - Jess Michaels Page 0,42

is imperative in the business I perform.”

Celeste smothered her relief at that statement. The last thing she needed was a gossipy servant talking about how she’d come unattended to Owen’s home. There were enough ugly things being said about her at present. And yet she hadn’t refused the man when he asked her to come.

Did that make her a hypocrite?

“You look troubled,” he said, and his hand flexed at his side as if he wanted to reach for her but restrained himself. “Is it so terrible?”

She blinked and looked around. “On the contrary,” she breathed. “It’s lovely so far. I love that painting over the table there.”

“Ah yes, it’s one of my favorites. I bought it from a vendor on New Bond Street. We ought to go there. There are shops and confectionaries enough to excite any imagination or desire.”

“Oh, that would be lovely. I can just look, can’t I?” she asked, and blushed because it revealed so much about her financial state that she couldn’t even afford to buy a sweet.

But he said nothing, only nodded. “Of course. Now would you like a small tour?”

Celeste followed him into a parlor just off the entrance. It had the usual accouterment, but along the wall across from the window, there was also a small desk on wheels.

“Why a desk in the sitting room, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Not at all. Although I do my real work in my study, I occasionally see clients in this room. New clients, usually, and almost always when I am conducting multiple investigations at once so that I may protect the privacy of those I serve.”

“It’s a comfortable room,” Celeste said. “The bay window gives so much light. I could read forever here.”

“It is where I do much of my reading,” he said, and she realized he was just watching her as she moved around the room, taking in the details around her.

She blushed as she glanced at him. “Well, it is lovely.”

“I’m glad you approve. Would you like to see more?”

She nodded and followed him to a small dining room, as well as another parlor that looked out over the garden behind the house. Down a side hall he led her into the study, and she caught her breath as she entered the room.

It was the biggest of the chambers she had seen, and beautiful, with tall bookshelves lined with tomes on the law, the city and history; a fine fireplace; a cherry sideboard where tea was already waiting for them; and a large matching desk that faced the door. It looked like a professional place to take a meeting, and yet it was still comfortable and warm.

“This is where I spend a good deal of my time,” he said softly. “Too much, some of my friends would say. But I like to work.”

“I can see why. You’ve created a space that tells a person that they can be comfortable and share their secrets.”

“I hope so. My business is secrets. Often it is the worst moment of a person’s life. Something they regret or fear. If I want to understand their circumstances enough to help, I must see into them a little.”

“You’re very good at that,” Celeste whispered. “I always feel as though you can see right through me.”

He moved toward her a step and the air in the room got heavier. What she wanted, those wicked things she wanted, those things Abigail had all but given her permission to take, hung between them. And Celeste was terrified. If she reached for him, everything would change, and so much had already changed. Could she bear even more chaos?

Could she bear it if he pulled away like he had that first night she kissed him?

So she did so first, turning her back to him and moving toward the desk. Behind it papers had been affixed to the wall, and she realized they were sheets on each of the suspects in Erasmus’s murder. A list of the names was on the far left, and she saw that her name and Leighton’s had been crossed off.

“You’ve been busy,” she said.

He chuckled, a low, rough sound behind her that seemed to work up her entire spine. “But not productive, in reality.”

“How can you say that?” she asked, pivoting toward him.

“In more than a week since the murder, I have crossed two suspects from my list. I’m not closer to narrowing the rest.” She could see his discomfort in that fact by the way he shifted his weight.

“You are