He crossed to her, turning her to face him. “I didn’t offer to take you around London or ask you to help me on this case as a seduction, Celeste. The two things are entirely separate. If you decide to come to my bed for a while, I will be very happy. But our friendship doesn’t hinge on it one way or another.”
She seemed to consider that for a moment, and he couldn’t read her expression or if she liked that answer one way or another. But at last she nodded and stuck out her hand as if to shake. “I think it’s a good bargain. I’d like to be…lovers.”
He glanced down at the extended hand with a laugh. “Very formal.” He took her hand and shook it, and she smiled. “Now, may I help you with your hair?”
Her brow wrinkled as her hand fell away from his. “You think you could do my hair?”
“I know I could,” he said. “There were times growing up when my mother could not afford a maid, so she taught me a few simple styles.”
Her eyes went wide and he swallowed hard. He’d never told another lady that in his life. Yet he didn’t regret the vulnerability. On the contrary, it felt…right to connect with her this way.
She nodded and he motioned her to the chair across from his desk. He gathered up the pins that had fallen from her hair earlier and gently tugged free the ones still stuck in the tangles. Once he had placed them on the desk top, he went around to his drawer and pulled out the brush he used on his own hair the many mornings he had a client call and he’d forgotten to go to bed the night before.
With tools in hand, he began to brush out her knots. Stroke by stroke, enjoying the little sounds of pleasure she made that were so close to the ones she’d made when she came. Giving her that was powerful no matter how he got there.
He began to shape and twist the locks, binding them in a loose chignon at the base of her neck with a pretty twist along the sides of her hair.
“How can I help you?” she asked.
He continued to pin and work. “Help me? I suppose you could hold this strand right here a moment.”
She lifted her fingers and pressed them against the lock he needed pushed aside. “I meant with your case,” she clarified.
“Oh, that,” he said with a smile. “You can let go of that strand now. The case, yes.” He thought about it a moment. “Well, I’m working on some clarification when it comes to the Duke of Gilmore,” he said. “As well as…another lead that I’ll talk to you about later if it pans out. And there’s a great deal that is public record when it comes to Abigail, as she was the first and legal wife. But Phillipa is more of a mystery to me.”
Celeste worried her lip. “She’s a bit more of a mystery to me, as well. Abigail is so welcoming, but her personality is to sweep in and take over. Not in a bad way, but she fills a room. Pippa is quieter. Harder to read. What would you like to know specifically?”
He marked those observations with interest. She really did pick up on human foibles and individual quirks with a natural flair. “Well, first why did she come to London seeking Montgomery?” he said. “I’ve never had a satisfactory response to that, always something that diverts attention to another issue.”
Celeste nodded. “That’s true, actually. I realize it now that you say it.”
“Also, you and I both noted her strong reaction when the article in the paper about the scandal mentioned names.”
“I remember. You want me to try to find out why she had such a powerful response?”
“Yes,” he said. “And if there is some kind of alibi that can be established for the time and date Montgomery was killed, it would help. She’s been vague about it all.”
Celeste was quiet a moment. At first it felt like she was just thinking, but then it shifted. Her discomfort became far clearer. It permeated through him as he slid the last pin in place and her hair was finished.
“Do you not like my questions?” he asked gently.
She glanced up at him. “It’s not your questions. I like them both so much. I just worry I’m doing something…wrong. Betraying them somehow.”