on the first letter was identical to the correction on one of the Bath letters. It clearly looked like the work of someone who wrote the same thing three times incorrectly, amended them with increasing exasperation, then got it right the fourth time.
And what that said about the blackmailer, he had no idea.
He got out the reports from his father’s investigators and read them all again. They appeared to have spent more time looking for Dorothy Cope herself, and to a lesser extent the so-called minister who had married her to Gerard’s father, a man called Ogilvie, than for the actual blackmailer. That must have been at Durham’s direction; Durham would have preferred to cut off the blackmailer’s ability to harm with one ruthless stroke, then laugh at the villain’s threats. Gerard, on the other hand, didn’t give a damn if he found Dorothy Cope or the Reverend Mr. Ogilvie if he could instead find the man who knew about them and relieve him of any damaging evidence. If Ogilvie or Mrs. Cope still lived, they would be elderly. As long as neither one of them had sent those bloody letters, Gerard had no interest in disturbing their lives. He just wouldn’t allow them to disrupt his.
Bragg tapped at the door. “Dinner is ready, Captain.”
“Thank you. Is Her Ladyship waiting?”
“Yes, sir, in the drawing room.”
Gerard nodded and waved him off. He pulled on his jacket and patted the pocket; the necklace he’d bought for Kate was still within. He left the tiny study and went into the drawing room, where she was sitting very still and erect on the hideous sofa. Even with all the lamps lit, the room was oppressively dark, with a brown rug on the floor, heavy green draperies at the windows, and muddy green silk on the walls. The furniture was of dark, heavy wood, upholstered in the same sickly green as the walls. It depressed his spirits just to walk into the room. “Shall we dine?” he asked Kate abruptly, not wanting to spend another minute in there. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”
She rose without a word and laid her hand on his arm. Not until they were seated in the dining room—little better than the drawing room, although the mustard yellow color of the walls was a trifle brighter—did Gerard realize she was avoiding his gaze. Her expression was smooth and placid, and she was polite to the servants, but she never looked his way. When dinner had been served, he snapped his fingers and waved at Bragg and the footman, who silently left the room and closed the doors.
Gerard didn’t know what might have irked her, so he waited. In his experience, an angry woman was rarely a silent woman. But Kate picked up her fork and began eating without so much as a word. He gave a mental shrug and turned to his own dinner, but eventually he had to know. “What did you do today, my dear?”
“I looked over the house,” she answered. “Birdie and I went for a stroll.”
“Excellent.” Gerard could practically see frost on her breath when she spoke, but he couldn’t imagine why. They’d been on rather good terms when they parted this morning—or so he’d thought. “I trust you found everything in order.”
“Yes.”
“Did Bragg make himself useful?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like the town?”
She took a sip of wine. “Bath is lovely.”
He leaned back in his chair. “What’s wrong, Kate?”
Her jaw twitched. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”
“You seem quiet.”
Her gaze flashed his way for a second. “What is there to say?”
“You haven’t anything at all to say to your husband?”
“I answered all your questions.”
That she had. Gerard poured more wine. Perhaps he should let it go . . . If only he were able. “I met an old friend today,” he said, switching tactics. “He invited us to attend the theater with him the evening after next.”
She put down her fork. “I’d rather not.”
“Do you not enjoy the theater? We could attend the Assembly Rooms instead. They often have very fine entertainments there, balls and concerts.”
Faint color bloomed in her cheeks, but she still didn’t look at him. “I have nothing against the theater. I simply don’t wish to go out yet.”
He frowned. “Not at all? Bath is a capital place. I hate to think you want to sit at home alone.”
She hesitated. “I haven’t anything proper to wear to the theater.”
“Is that all?” Gerard exclaimed. “Order some gowns.”
“I did.” She raised her eyes to his at last. “Several.