“What invitations?”
“For the ball she’s planning. Don’t you remember?”
“Ah, yes. Thank God I recovered so she could host a party.”
“James! You shouldn’t be unkind about your mother. I saw how she felt when you were so ill. Tessa loves you. And you love her, admit it.”
“Of course.” He paused in the act of buttoning his shirt and glanced up. “Though I do hope you won’t let anyone know.”
“It will remain our secret.” Laura struggled to restore order to her hair, twisting to see her dim reflection in the glass door of a bookcase. “This would be much easier if you had a mirror in here.”
“Thoughtless of me.” James leaned against the wall, watching her. “Oddly, the occasion’s never arisen before.”
She tossed him a teasing glance over her shoulder. “You mean you aren’t accustomed to ravishing women in your study?”
“Ravishing! I like that.”
“So did I.” Laura flashed a grin and returned to fixing her hair.
Behind her she heard James draw in his breath sharply. Suddenly he was right behind her, his hands sliding around her waist, and even in this poor reflection, she could see the unmistakable light in his eyes. He nuzzled her neck. “You’d best have a care or you’ll find yourself having to dress and do your hair all over again.” He nipped lightly at her earlobe.
His hands slid across her waist and up to cover her breasts. Laura leaned back into him, closing her eyes, but then, with a sigh, she slipped out of his arms. “No. I’d best get to it. Addressing invitations with the others will offer a splendid opportunity to find out things.”
“What things?” He frowned. “Laura, I don’t want you poking about, trying to expose a murderer.”
“That’s a fine thing to say, when you and I have done the very same thing.”
“Yes, but it was both of us.”
“What difference does that make?” Laura pulled away to look at him indignantly. “Are you saying I’m not capable of learning something on my own?”
James laughed. “No, no, no, my dear, I’m not that foolish a man. But I don’t want you dealing with a murderer all by yourself.”
“First of all, I won’t be by myself.” Laura held up her fingers. “Half your family will be there.”
“That is scarcely reassuring,” James said drily.
“Second,” she went on, giving him a repressive look, “I’m not going to be obvious about it. And, third, surely the culprit realizes it would be suspicious to kill me after they’ve tried to poison you. Even you must be safe from another attempt, at least for a while.”
“Hopefully.” James smiled, reaching out and curling his fingers around hers to lift her hand up to his lips. “If I thought otherwise, I would have to take action. I wouldn’t have the luxury of waiting and searching for proof. Claude’s not stupid. I’m relying on that.”
“Besides, he would know he won’t get the full inheritance now that you are married. That would discourage him, as well.” Laura frowned. “James? Are you all right? You looked quite odd.”
“What? No, I’m fine.” He gave her a perfunctory smile. “Just thinking.”
Laura suspected there was more than he let on behind the look that had flickered across his face. It would be a pointless exercise, however, to try to pry any information out of him. She merely smiled and went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. His eyes widened a little, and Laura was pleased to see that she had put him somewhat off balance with the impulsive gesture.
Laura started out the door, then stopped and turned, sending him a provocative glance over her shoulder. “I hope I haven’t disturbed your morning too much. Enjoy your account books.”
“Little likelihood of that,” James murmured as he strolled after her into the hallway and stood watching Laura walk away. He had felt an icy trickle down his spine at her words a moment earlier. He hadn’t really thought until now about the fact that Laura now stood between Claude and his inheritance. But, no, surely Claude would not go so far as to hurt Laura. It was one thing to despise James and wish him gone—no doubt Claude felt some justification there—but quite another to actually kill an innocent woman. Claude would not, could not do that.
It was foolish that his palms had started to sweat, idiotic to feel an urge to hurry after Laura and walk with her, as if someone were going to jump out at her with a knife. No one but Laura and his attorney knew the terms of his will; Claude would doubtless assume that James would leave Laura only a reasonable widow’s share, not the bulk of his fortune. Even if Claude suspected Laura would inherit a good deal, he would know that the title and the land would be his. That was what Claude wanted—his father’s title and Grace Hill, the de Vere estate that he so resented going to James.