Lord Valorous(30)

Jacob snorted at Poppy's words.

"I'm a nobleman, we don't do bookkeeping."

"Leo," Jacob said softly, "that is enough."

"How lucky it is that you were born to such lofty heights then, Lord Vereton, unlike some of us. Now if you will excuse me, I must add the missing figures."

Leo barked out a laugh. "You'll do, Miss March."

"Do?" she questioned him.

"It's his way, Miss March. He likes to annoy people to see how they react, and he is obviously happy with your response," Jacob said.

The false smile widened. "You have no idea how gratified that makes me, Lord Vereton. It is of course my fondest wish to have your approval."

God, she was mouthy, Jacob thought. The woman could hold her own in the presence of the king, he had no doubt.

"I do believe I like you, Miss March." Leo walked away after these words.

"Pay him no mind, Miss March. He is odd, but the best of men."

"If you say so, Lord Hatherton."

"If I may have a word. I would like to discuss the developments in the case of Lady Revel."

"Of course." She rose this time, and Jacob directed her to a small room they had set up for clients. He pushed the door closed, but did not shut it completely.

Poppy walked to the window, as far away from him as she could, and his eyes fell to the small buttons marching down the back of her dress. The material was worn pale from washing, and he guessed it was several years old, but it clung to her lovely body, and Jacob cursed himself for a fool again for noticing.

"What news do you have, my lord?" She turned to face him now that she had placed herself as far away as possible in the small space.

"Why are your fingers not resting in that sling?"

"They have been, and now they are not, my lord. Now, please tell me about Lady Revel."

"Lord Vereton and I paid a call on Lord Revel. He would not let me see his aunt, but we were able to question him."

She clasped her hands before her, face eager as she waited for him to tell her the rest. What was it about her that got to him? There were plenty of woman prettier. She's unpretentious, and real, and vastly differs from anyone you have met before.

Was that it? Was this intrigue he felt for her simply based on the fact she was different? Jacob felt relieved that he was probably right. At least this burning need inside him for her would pass …  surely.

He related what he had been told by Lord Revel regarding Lady Revel, and watched the expression on Poppy's face darken.

"But that is not true! He is poisoning her and keeping her prisoner, I am sure of this."

"But I cannot simply waltz into his house and throw baseless accusations at him, Poppy."



       
         
       
        

"Then what can you do?"

"Investigate."

"How?"

"I have a man at present entering the house to question the staff. He will attempt to find out more about Lady Revel."

"How?"

"How what?"

"Under what guise is this person entering the house?"

Her hands were waving about now as she talked, her face moving through expressions that he could barely keep up with. Frustration and anger, he identified clearly.

"He is delivering supplies."

"Oh, well that's quite a good disguise."

"You sound disappointed that I may actually know what I'm doing."

She waved her hands again, dismissing his words. "No indeed, but you are a nobleman and do not know much about the workings belowstairs of a large household."

Miffed at that slight, Jacob frowned. "How do you know that?"

"Well, do you?"

"Yes... maybe. Perhaps not as much as I should," Jacob felt compelled to add. "But I know a damn sight more than many." Why the hell was he justifying himself to this woman?

"It matters not. What matters is Lady Revel, and I fear time may be running out for her," Poppy said.

"Humble, intelligent man that I am, I am attempting to do my best," Jacob drawled.

She stopped moving and simply stared at him.

"I never questioned your intelligence, my lord."

"Just everything else," he muttered. The woman was truly exhausting. Conversing with her was like talking to five people at once.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to sound ungrateful. I am grateful for everything you have done for me, and realize that I have not conveyed that gratitude to you properly."

It was a new thing, to see her contrite, but there it was, now written all over her sweet face.

"No, you have not."