A Scandal Most Daring

“Or made up,” Connor corrected. “If Sayers was moving about amongst the ton, he could start any rumour he wanted to about anybody.”

“Good Lord, do you think it is possible?” Barnaby growled.

“It is something I have no doubt he would do,” Connor replied confidently.

“Sayers would enjoy something that twisted,” Isaac snorted. “He likes to flaunt his schemes.”

“Count Anatoly Valentin needs to be investigated. We need to warn Head Office to get men onto this,” Barnaby said urgently.

“Before we go, let’s search this place for anything relating to the Gem Society,” Connor suggested.

He didn’t wait for everyone’s agreement. He entered the study and searched the shelving. Surprisingly, there were no references there to gemmology or gems at all. In fact there was nothing but fiction books on the shelving, and a few on housekeeping techniques.

Turning his attention to the desk, Connor took a seat and began to rummage. Minutes later, he dropped a huge roll of parchment of various shapes and sizes onto the desk. He searched the hiding space beside the fireplace he found, before he replaced the stone and returned to the desk to study the papers.

“Well, well, well, so the Gem Society does exist after all,” Barnaby whispered. He and Isaac had finished their own searches but, having come up empty handed, had helped Connor search the study.

“There is a list of the members, all of which are very well connected,” Barnaby growled. He studied the highly influential names and whistled through his teeth. “This makes the investigation extremely tricky indeed, and the information as useless as it is valuable. People like this won’t want to talk to us if their reputation is going to be put at risk.”

“Surely they will tell us what they want to know if their members are dying?” Isaac protested.

Together they peered at the list of twelve names, six of which had been murdered, including Jeremiah Tate and Henry Gillingham.

“If they don’t co-operate, being under suspicion by the War Office for the kind of crimes Sayers’ gets involved in with will destroy their reputations,” Connor retorted flatly.

He studied a piece of parchment detailing specific qualities of gems and tossed it back onto the table in disgust. It meant nothing to him but he had to take them with him so he could study them in more detail. They weren’t of use to Mr Tate now in any case. If there was a nugget of information; some kernel of fact contained therein that might help the Star Elite, the men would find it.

Right now, Connor wanted to get home. With renewed urgency he rolled up the parchment and hurried toward the window.

“Come on, let’s go,” he ordered, and disappeared into the night.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Connor gently tucked a stray curl behind her ear and tugged the blankets up to cover her bare shoulders. His smile grew when she sighed and flopped over, and waited until she realised he was there.

Tahlia wasn’t sure what woke her, but she slowly became aware that she was no longer alone. Her eyes popped wide and she flung herself over in bed.

“You are back,” she gasped. Without thinking, she flung her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

Connor laughed and held her just as securely.

“Well, I have never had a welcome like that before,” he growled huskily.

“What happened? What did you find?”

“It doesn’t matter right now. I will tell you in the morning,” he whispered. “Get some more sleep. I just wanted to check you were alright.”

Boldly, Tahlia dropped a kiss onto his still smiling lips.

“Sleep,” he growled as he leaned forward until she had no option but to lie back down. Once there, he carefully tucked her beneath the covers and left the bed before he was tempted to stay with her.

“You didn’t bother to close the shutters,” he chastised. “It is cold in here.”

He stopped beside the fireplace to add more logs before he went in search of the source of the chill. All the while he was painfully aware of her staring at him. He daren’t look at her. The temptation to re-join her was so strong that if she said or did anything, he would not have the willpower to leave.

He was in the process of closing the shutter to the window overlooking the garden when a furtive movement outside captured his attention. He knew from the way the shadow darted from one tree to another as it approached the house that it wasn’t any of his colleagues. Not only was the house in lockdown but none of the Star Elite wouldn’t be that unprofessional.

Someone was lurking in the gardens.