we’re not in love, and yet they expect us to marry.”
Mr Golding scratched his head. “Yes, there seems to be a certain hypocrisy here, but we must satisfy the conditions in order to proceed.”
Mr Sloane glanced up from the notebook. “How do you know that’s why Livingston Sloane left London when it’s the first I’ve heard on the subject?”
“That’s what my father told me.” Mr Golding gave a half shrug. “There must be a relative who can support the claim.”
Vivienne craned her neck to look at the notebook, but her attention drifted to Mr Sloane’s muscular thighs and the strong hands clasping the pages. Lord, the man exuded masculinity on every level. Yet those long, capable fingers had cradled her head with remarkable tenderness. There was so much she didn’t know about this man, and yet she would take his name and swear an oath she had no intention of keeping.
“Is Mr Golding correct?” The nervous tremble in her voice was impossible to disguise. “Are we required to prove we share an affection?” There was a definite attraction between them, no more than that.
Mr Sloane met her gaze. One look from those mesmerising green eyes sent a shiver shooting to her toes. “Mr Golding must decide if greed is our motive for marrying. He can only proceed if he believes there is an undeniable connection between us, one that may grow into something lasting.”
Heavens! He sounded remarkably calm, all things considered.
Mr Sloane stood and placed the notebook on Mr Golding’s cluttered desk. “Excuse us for a moment. I would like to speak to Miss Hart privately.”
“Of course. Take as long as you need. I’ve no clients today.”
Mr Sloane cupped Vivienne’s elbow as she stood. “We shall slip out onto the landing and return shortly.”
Vivienne let him guide her from the room. She waited for him to close Mr Golding’s door before saying, “This is ridiculous. I cannot possibly expect you to agree. The money doesn’t matter. It is easy to live modestly in the Highlands. But if you would consider me your client, and seek to discover the identity of the masked devil, I shall be forever grateful.”
She would pack a valise and leave for Scotland today if she thought the blackguard wouldn’t follow. Without knowing the intruder’s true intentions, it was impossible to make plans.
Still clutching her elbow, Mr Sloane drew her closer. “There’s one problem, Miss Hart. I’m uncomfortable with failure. I cannot have it known I broke my grandfather’s oath.”
“Oh. I see.” Vivienne frowned as he’d not cared a whit before. “Why the change of heart?”
“When reading the words written in that old book, I could almost hear my grandfather’s voice. It is impossible for me to walk away now. Trust me, my sudden loyalty to a man I’ve never met shocks me to my core.”
“What are you saying?”
He chuckled to himself. “I cannot believe these words are about to fall from my lips, but I think we should take the letter with the crowned heart. I think we should see this matter through to the end.”
Could he not speak plainly? Could he not make a declaration?
“You think we should marry?”
He laughed again. “Yes. Surely you hoped I would agree. What did you intend to do once we’d found the treasure and caught the man who shot Turton?”
Vivienne heard his question, but could barely form a rational thought. When making arrangements to visit his home, she had planned for every eventuality. Yet she had not expected to feel an instant attraction when he spoke, not expected to admire the man’s honesty or experience the fluttering inside whenever he paid her the slightest attention.
She’d thought they would marry and work on solving the clues, nothing more. Now she would have to kiss the gentleman. Surely he would feel something of her mild obsession when their mouths met.
“Once we’d dealt with our problem and found our legacy, I planned to leave London and return to the Highlands. Buchanan and Mrs McCready long to go home, and there is nothing to keep me here.”
“The Highlands? So far?” He pondered the information for longer than necessary. “If you marry me, Miss Hart, you will never bear legitimate children, never be free to marry a Scot who shares your love for wild adventures.”
A wave of sadness washed over her. She had not considered what she would lose if she married Evan Sloane. Ever since her mother had frightened her half to death with mumbled tales of threats and imminent danger, Vivienne had