The butler took Dragan’s hat with a bow. “No, my lady. I believe he stepped round to his club.”
“Thank you, Turner.” She crossed the hall, leading the way upstairs. “What do gentlemen find to do in these wretched clubs all day? Do you have a club, Mr. Tizsa?”
“No,” Dragan said, baldly.
“Good. I shall tell my husband it is perfectly possible to live without one.” She led him into a light, elegant drawing room, and invited him to sit, after which, removing all doubt about possible seduction, she chose a chair at a very respectable distance.
“Why do you want to annoy your sister-in-law?” he asked.
“Because I have just sustained a somewhat impudent lecture from her on the subject of correct appearances and what is due to my husband, as well as the Niven name. I did not point out that I had been born with the name and had carried it longer than she.”
“Instead, you plucked a stranger off the street and invited him into your house without a care for even the appearance of a chaperone.”
Lady Trench allowed herself a small smile, which was not entirely indignation free. “I believe the point was well made. Thank God my husband is not half as stuffy—or foolish—as my brother and his wife. Have you met my brother, Mr. Tizsa?”
“I have met Lord Forsythe,” he replied as the servants entered with a tea tray and placed it on a low table before Lady Trench.
“Oh, Forsythe is a completely different kettle of fish to my eldest brother, Lord Monkton. Thank you,” she added to the servants, which appeared to be their dismissal.
One could learn a good deal about wealthy people by the way they treated their servants. Lady Trench seemed to have the same light, civil touch as Griz. So far, at least.
“Monkton will be the duke one day, and Augusta—his wife—lets it go to her head. What are you up to with Grizelda?”
Perhaps the sudden question was designed to take him by surprise, but he held her gaze and even smiled. “Oh, the usual. Seduction, fortune-hunting, that kind of thing.”
She smiled back, her eyes icy. “Mr. Tizsa, if I truly thought that—if I ever think that—you would not be sitting there. Sugar?”
“Please. No milk.” He stood to accept the tea and made a quick decision. This woman cared for her sister, perhaps even understood her. He sat back down. “Grizelda asked me to help her discover who killed Nancy Barrow. Your mother’s housemaid.”
“Oh, I know who she is. Was.” She sighed. “I suppose I should have known, too, that Griz would not leave it to the police. She says you didn’t do it.”
“I didn’t,” he said mildly.
Her eyes lost that faintly challenging look. “Did she really charge into the police commissioners’ office to rescue you?”
“Like a one-woman cavalry charge. With a dog. The police never stood a chance.”
Lady Trench laughed, an infectious, full-throated chuckle. “I wish I had been there!”
“Would you have gone with her if she had asked you?”
“Probably not. I would have tried to talk her out of it. And she would have gone anyway. Is that what you do? You go with her?”
“Or she goes with me. It seems to be a…partnership.”
Her eyes searched his over her teacup. Dragan had the feeling she was weighing her words. “My little sister is kind and brave and excessively curious. She treats everyone as a friend. But she is not…worldly.”
“She seems extremely sharp to me.”
“Oh, sharp, yes. She is clever. But she has little experience with men. If you take advantage of her, I will know.”
She was quite impressive in her own way. He considered her in silence, until she said sharply. “You have nothing to say?”
He stirred. “Forgive me. I was wondering whether or not to be offended. And then I wondered if there was a reason for this lack of worldly experience. Beyond her desire to travel her own path, which I applaud, by the way.”
Lady Trench frowned, only half-amused as she searched his face. “I had a feeling you might. I suppose that is why she likes you.”
“Does she?” he asked too quickly.
Lady Trench sighed. “I should not have begun this conversation. It is too fraught with offense and small betrayals. You may think we do not care for her, but we do.” She lifted her chin. “You may not think she cares for us, but she does.”
“I know. That was clear from the beginning when she kept quiet about your father’s dagger