A Most Dangerous Profession(68)
He stepped onto the ledge. “Shut the windows behind me, but do not latch them. I may need to return sometime.”
She came to stand by the large window and smiled up at him, looking absurdly young in her gown and piled-up hair. “Yes, sir. Is there anything else I should do for you?”
He smiled. “Nothing that we would want to finish in the few minutes we have left before our servants return. It is time to focus on our mission. Here’s to our success.” He winked and left.
CHAPTER 19
Michael Hurst’s diary, dated today
I am going to slowly throttle Miss Smythe-Haughton until she begs for mercy . . . right after I rescue her.
Dinner was finally over. Robert leaned back and lifted his monocle to observe the cherry tart that had been placed before him. He crinkled his nose and pushed the dish away. “Ross, thank you for an interesting dinner.”
“It was quite good, wasn’t it?” Moira said.
“It was interesting,” Robert repeated. He eyed his host, who sat at the head of the table. “I don’t wish to be rude, but the time has come to take possession of the box I purchased from you.”
Robert had done his part during dinner, slyly suggesting that Scotsmen couldn’t hold their drink, which had caused their host to imbibe what Moira suspected was much, much more port than he normally drank.
“We shall get to that presently.” Ross held up his empty glass. “Oh ho, another measure gone. And you, Mr. Hurst? Is your glass empty?”
“No, I fear not.” Robert examined Ross’s flushed face. “When may I have the box?”
Ross frowned. “You’re insistent, sir.”
“I’ve already paid for it, and I must return to London before this treacherous damp air gives me a lung infection.”
Moira hid her chuckle behind a cough.
Ross took a deep drink. “I shall give it to you in the morning.”
“Why not now, pray tell? Unless . . . you do have it, do you not?”
“Of course I have it,” Ross returned testily. “I just don’t wish to run all the way upstairs and fetch it.”
Moira said sweetly, “If it will help, I would be glad to ask one of the footmen to fetch it for you.”
“No, no. No one is allowed in my—” Ross blinked, realizing he was in the process of saying something he shouldn’t.
Moira leaned forward. “Or if you wish, I could get it for you—”
“No! No one is allowed there except me.”
“Allowed where?” Robert asked smoothly.
“Allowed in—” Ross’s gaze narrowed. “No one except me is allowed near my collection.” He paused, then said in a more measured tone, though his words were slightly slurred, “Mr. Hurst, I didn’t mean to withhold your purchase from you. I was merely enjoying the presence of you and your lovely wife and thought you were doing the same.”
“I suppose we both needed the rest,” Robert returned in a sulky tone. “Your castle is certainly comfortable, I’ll give you that.”
“Thank you,” Ross said in a stiff tone that indicated he’d rather punch Robert than smile. “I will have your artifact ready by breakfast. I trust you are satisfied with that.”
“Perfectly.” Robert sighed. “Moira, I think I will retire. I have quite the headache; I vow this damp country air is poisonous.”
“You should have Buffon fetch you some lavender water from my chamber. If you rub it on your temples, it might ease your headache.”
“I shall do that.” Robert stood, pausing when Moira stayed in her seat. “Aren’t you coming, my love?”
“No, I thought I might stay here, with Sir Lachlan. I’m not a bit tired.”
Robert shrugged. “Very well. Just don’t be up too late. We’ll be leaving in the morning, and if you don’t get enough rest it makes horrid circles under your eyes.” He bowed. “Good night, Ross. Good night, Moira.”
Moira’s heart fluttered a bit as Robert left. This is my big chance. She smiled at her host. “I hope you don’t mind if I stay a bit longer?”
“Of course not. You may stay as long as you wish.”
“Thank you. You are such a gracious host.”
He captured her hand and placed a kiss on her wrist. “And you, madame, are a lovely guest.”