Daniel looked up from the sofa where he’d been reading a book. He didn’t spring to his feet, because Louisa was dozing next to him, her head on Daniel’s shoulder.
Fellows stopped in the act of dropping his hat to a chair. Louisa was so serenely beautiful, her face flushed, her body limp against Daniel’s, her red curls across her cheek.
Fellows drew a sharp breath as he imagined her head on his shoulder, better still, on his pillow with him lying next to her. The vision was so sharp, so desirable, that he couldn’t move. He needed it to be true.
Daniel touched her shoulder. “Louisa.”
Louisa frowned in her sleep, moved against his arm, then she opened her eyes. She stared in puzzlement at Fellows a moment, then she came fully awake, and sat up, pushing her hair from her face.
Fellows closed the door behind him. “You can’t be here.”
Daniel put his book aside and got to his feet. “A fine way to greet your family.”
Fellows finally set his hat on the chair, stripped off his gloves, and dropped them on top of the hat. “I meant Louisa. She can’t be seen anywhere near me until this investigation is closed.”
Louisa rose, still trying to press her hair back into place. Fellows wanted to tell her it looked much better mussed—he wanted to go to her and muss it some more.
“I am in the room with you, Chief Inspector,” she said. “You may tell me directly that you want me to go.”
Fellows fixed his gaze on her and her alone, and wished he hadn’t. “I want you to go.”
“Not yet,” Daniel said. “We didn’t come for a social call. We came to tell you something.”
Fellows still looked at Louisa. Her gown today was a brown broadcloth she’d covered with a jacket of burnt orange, autumn colors that went with her pale skin and red hair. She was a confection he wanted to eat.
It took a moment before Fellows realized Louisa was speaking to him, her eyes full of anger. “The Bishop of Hargate was blackmailing Mrs. Leigh-Waters. I told you he tried to blackmail me into marrying him, but I’ve learned that he also tried to blackmail Daniel.”
“I know,” Fellows said.
Louisa stopped, surprise pushing aside her anger. “You know? How?”
“Not about Daniel.” Fellows shot his nephew a look, which Daniel returned with a guileless one. “But I know about Mrs. Leigh-Waters.”
“This is interesting,” Daniel said. “Was Hargate blackmailing any others?”
“I’m not discussing the case with you, Daniel.”
“No?”
“No.” But Daniel was perceptive. Hargate’s book, once Fellows had deciphered his somewhat simplistic letter and number substitution code, showed he’d carried on an active round of blackmailing. A few of his victims, besides Mrs. Leigh-Waters, had been at the garden party. “The murderer doesn’t need to know in advance what line of inquiry I’m taking,” he said to Daniel.
“Of course not,” Louisa said, sounding reasonable. “We should let the chief inspector do his job, Danny.”
“Yes,” Fellows said dryly. “Please do.” He stepped aside and signaled with a wave of his hand that they should go.
Daniel didn’t move. “If you’re thinking of Mrs. Leigh-Waters as the murderer, I don’t think she did it, if my opinion is worth anything,” he said. “I don’t think she’d have the courage.”
“Nor do I,” Louisa added. Her belief in the woman was clear in her eyes. “And there’s the question of the poison—how it got into the tea, or at least the teacup, without Mrs. Leigh-Waters being there to make sure the right person drank it.”
“Yes,” Fellows said slowly. Louisa’s words made the part of his thoughts still tangled in the case begin to work. “And I think that’s it.”
Daniel and Louisa looked blank. “What?” Louisa asked.
“The answer to the entire problem.”
“Ah,” Daniel said. “You know how it was done?”
“Not yet. But I have possibilities to check. I planned to think about it tonight, alone, and then ponder while I sleep. I need sleep.” Fellows hadn’t gotten any the night before, that was certain.
Daniel looked resigned but nodded at him. “We’ll leave ye to it, then. Except you have to tell us what you discover. We’re pining to know.”
“I’ll send you a telegram,” Fellows said in his dry voice. He opened the door. “Thank you for the information. Good night.”
“Right you are.” Daniel held out his arm to Louisa. “Auntie?”
Louisa didn’t look at him. “I’d like to remain a moment, Daniel.”
“No,” Fellows said immediately. If Louisa stayed in his rooms, with his bedchamber steps away, he’d never be able to let her out again.
“Daniel,” Louisa said.
“I shouldn’t let you,” Daniel said. “I’m the chaperone, you know.”
“He is right,” Fellows said to Louisa. “You can’t stay up here with me.”
“For heaven’s sake, he can wait outside the door, which you may keep unlocked. If Daniel hears me scream, he will rush in to my rescue. I need to speak with you.”
Fellows’ hand stilled on the doorknob. He could not let her stay, blast the woman. But she stood stubbornly, as though rooting herself to the floor.
Daniel decided for them. Because neither Fellows nor Louisa moved, Daniel picked up his hat and gloves and walked out past Fellows, the hem of his kilt swinging.
“I’ll be kicking my heels at the end of the hall,” he said. “Shout when you’re ready, Louisa.”
Fellows remained at the door, holding it open. “Daniel, she can’t stay.”
“Best humor her,” Daniel said. “Else she gets terse, and I’ll have to ride all the way to Isabella’s with her like that. Do me a favor and let her speak her piece.”
Fellows had no sympathy. But he knew Louisa wouldn’t budge unless he lifted her over his shoulder and carried her out. And if he touched her, he’d carry her straight to the bedroom.
Daniel grinned and turned away as Fellows finally swung the door shut. Fellows heard him whistling in the hall.
“Begin,” Fellows said to Louisa. “Then leave.”
He kept himself beside the door. Safer there—the entire sitting room lay between him and her.
Louisa wore brown leather gloves that hugged her fingers. Fellows couldn’t stop his imagination putting those gloved hands on his bare chest, feeling the cool leather on his hot skin. She’d move her hands down across his abdomen, roving to the hardness that strained for her.