he dismissed untruthfully.
Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you entering my uncle’s study?”
Truth or fiction?
The truth was as unbelievable as any fiction Julius might think up, and last night, when he had told James exactly and truthfully where he had been for the hour since dinner, James had not believed him.
“Very well.” Julius nodded. “I was about to enter your uncle’s study so that I could open the secret drawer in his desk and look through any papers I might find there.”
Bethany didn’t laugh dismissively the way James had last night, but her eyebrows did rise up to her hairline. “In the hopes of finding what?”
He shrugged. “I will not know that until I have opened it and looked at its contents. If, indeed, there are any contents,” he added ruefully.
“Why do you need to see them at all?”
Julius didn’t feel it was his right to reveal James had lived through the attack ten years ago. That was for James himself to share with his sister.
He could, however, reveal a partial truth. “Your uncle is a person of interest to the Crown.” He hoped Metford would very soon be of much deeper interest to the Prince Regent.
“Has he done something wrong?”
“Yes,” Julius answered with complete honesty.
Bethany felt in that moment much as she had when she first lost her parents and then quickly thereafter her beloved brother. It was as if the cornerstone of the stability in her life had been ripped away from her.
Admittedly, her uncle could be difficult, and he was a hard taskmaster when he sat on the bench, but Bethany could not fault the kindness he had always shown her.
She gave Julius a searching glance but could read nothing in his expression. “What sort of interest to the Crown?”
“You know very well I am not at liberty to answer that.”
“But you still expect me to allow you to enter my uncle’s study and look through the papers in his desk without protest?”
Julius shook his head. “I only wish to look at the papers in the secret drawer. I already know there is nothing else of interest to me in the desk.”
“Because you searched it yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“How do you even know about the secret drawer?”
“The desk is Elizabethan. I would expect there to be a secret drawer.”
Bethany frowned. “I have caught you once again entering my uncle’s study, and you have admitted it is for clandestine activities. Is there no crime you consider beyond you?”
“Many,” he snapped. “The crime of poverty. War. Disease. Cruelty. But entering another man’s study in his absence to look at his private papers is not high on the list of things beyond me.”
Bethany blushed at this deliberate set-down. “It is still an infringement of my uncle’s privacy,” she stated stubbornly.
Julius sighed. “Yes, it is. But it is something I need to do.”
She snorted. “So I should simply allow you to do it?”
“I do not recall you being this reluctant to trust me last night,” he reminded softly.
The heat in Bethany’s cheeks intensified merely from thinking of their intimacies together the previous night. And the set-down she had received afterward. “I ask again, what do you hope to find in my uncle’s desk?”
“You are a very stubborn and determined young lady.” Julius’s gaze softened with admiration.
She would not allow herself to be diverted by his flattery. “I require your answer.”
“Very well.” He nodded. “I expect to find receipts. Letters.”
“Incriminating ones?”
“That would depend upon your point of view on the matter.”
“What is your own point of view?”
His jaw hardened. “That I should like to see Adrian Metford hanged!”
“Why?” she gasped.
“Again, that is something I cannot discuss with you.”
“Cannot or will not?”
“Both.”
Bethany chewed on her bottom lip as she studied him searchingly. His gaze as it met hers was clear and direct. High cheekbones appeared stark above the tightness of his jaw. His stance was slightly defensive, as if he expected her to continue to challenge him for entering her uncle’s study.
She drew in a deep breath before nodding. “I shall come in with you—”
“Absolutely not.”
She arched mocking brows. “I know where the secret drawer is and how it opens.”
He appeared taken aback. “How do you know that?”
She brushed past him to open the door so they could both enter the room beyond. “My brother showed it to me years ago.” She closed the door behind her before turning to move behind the huge desk that dominated the room. “I must admit I have not given this drawer so much as a second thought since James died.”
“Does