“Then pray tell me why you’re here, Mr Thorpe.”
What was he supposed to say? That he felt responsible for her. That in securing her safety he hoped for a night when she did not monopolise his dreams.
“I heard about the theft.”
She seemed surprised. “And you thought I might have use of your investigative services?”
“Do you need my services?” Perhaps he’d gone about this the wrong way. Perhaps the best way to keep the woman safe was to work alongside her. With any luck, he would grow tired of her company.
Her bottom lip trembled. To disguise it, she wrapped her arms across her chest and shivered. “That depends on your fee.”
A black cloud descended to darken his mood. Did she think so little of him? “For you, I would waive my fee and any expenses incurred. A lady must feel safe in her home.”
Fear flashed in her eyes. It hit him like a barbed arrow to his heart. So much for his blasted armour.
“As much as I hate to admit it, I would value your opinion,” Mrs Chambers said.
“Sometimes you can be too close to a case to think objectively.”
He inclined his head in agreement. “Then tell me when and where we should meet and I shall do my utmost to attend.”
“There is no time like the present.” She gestured to the house behind her. “I find I cannot sleep and so, if you have no prior engagement, you are welcome to come inside.”
Daniel swallowed. To sit next to her on the sofa and relax in her private residence would create a level of intimacy best avoided. A heart hardened to all emotion brought a sense of peace. Would time spent in her company disturb his equilibrium, force him to address feelings long since buried?
Suppressing a sigh, he inclined his head. “Do you have something strong to drink?”
“I have brandy, Mr Thorpe. It often helps after a difficult case.”
No case had ever taxed him to that extent. But working with Daphne Chambers would test his resolve, lead him to question his sanity. “Then I accept your hospitality,” he said, despite grave reservations. “And you may tell me all about the pressing problem keeping you awake at night.”
Chapter 2
Reckless was a word often used to describe a woman paid to pry into other people’s affairs. Tonight, foolish and desperate were accurate descriptions of Daphne’s character too. Why else would she invite Mr Thorpe into her home? Why else would an independent woman agree to his offer of assistance?
A shiver raced through Daphne’s body at the thought of Thorpe’s commanding figure swamping her private space.
Time spent in Mr Thorpe’s company proved exhausting. Disapproval was an expression he wore to intimidate. As a consequence, Daphne was always armed, always alert and ready to challenge his critical opinion. Yet despite her initial anger at finding him camped outside Madame Fontaine’s shop, his presence brought her peace. Indeed, as he followed her into the narrow hallway, his confident aura enveloped her like a cloak of invincibility.
With a gentleman like Thorpe at one’s side, what would a lady have to fear?
“I assume Madame Fontaine is in bed?” Thorpe’s question disturbed her reverie.
Daphne stopped on the second stair leading up to her rooms. Even from her elevated position, Thorpe was still an inch taller. “Betsy rises at five each morning and works until her eyes ache from squinting in the candlelight. At this hour, a bull on the rampage would struggle to wake her.”
Thorpe frowned. “Betsy? Did the woman not train in Paris?”
“Paris? What a lazy assumption. Do you not scrutinise the background of every person you snoop on?” Daphne couldn’t help but tease him. “As a skilled enquiry agent surely you know she hails from Spitalfields and learnt her trade with the Huguenot silk weavers.”
Thorpe’s intense gaze bored into her. “Why would I know that when I am not here to spy on the modiste?”
“So you admit you are here to snoop on me.”
“Snooping is a woman’s hobby,” he said with some disdain. “Spying is a man’s profession.”
“So you’re here purely in a professional capacity?” she said, knowing that he no longer considered her a friend. Thorpe had no friends — other than Mr Bostock.
A dark shadow passed over his face. With his mouth hidden behind the full beard, she imagined his lips drawn thin. “I am here out of concern for a colleague. You may make of it what you will.”