“I am friends with a woman who places servants in households, and it is a common story according to her. The servants do not complain because they do not think they will be believed.” She resettled herself against the side of the divan so she could bend her knees and lift her feet onto its cushion. “Forgive me, but I have been standing or walking all day.”

Her shoes poked out from the hem of her dress. He wondered if her feet were as lovely as her hands. Probably. Delicate and pretty and soft—he imagined a foot like that sliding up the skin of his leg.

He killed the fantasy when the smooth caress reached his knee. The low light, the late hour, was sending his mind where it should not go. The intimacy of this library right now sang like a siren’s song to his masculinity. She appeared lovely on that divan. Almost domestic in her ease and informality.

“If you want to go above and change into a garment more comfortable, I don’t mind waiting.”

Mild astonishment, then a laugh. “When I said I was not concerned with my reputation, I did not mean that I was so careless with it that I would host you while wearing an undressing gown.”

“And yet you did so once.”

“There was no choice that time. You broke into my home in the middle of the night.”

“A precedent nonetheless.”

“I must decline your kind, and somewhat naughty, offer.”

He sat on one of the chairs, resisting the temptation to take the one nearest to her. “To repeat my question from the street, what did you think of them?”

“Are you asking because you value my perceptions, or in order to flirt with me through flattery?”

Now, that was direct. “Let us say I am truly curious.”

Her small smile said she did not miss that he had not denied the flattery. She stifled a yawn behind her hand. “Since I need my sleep, I will not waste time being coy. I think if one of them killed him, it was either Walter or Dolores. I would add Kevin, but I heard he was out of the country. And Phillip may be a wastrel but I don’t think he would have the courage to do it.” She shrugged. “Or, of course, it could have been you.”

“Me?”

“I can think of many reasons why. You also do not lack courage. I think that you lose your temper on occasion and this sounds like an act of passion, not a calculated crime. More a matter of opportunity calling.”

“I had no reason. I knew he had removed me from the will, so I had nothing to gain.”

“Perhaps you knew because he told you that evening, and you reacted with anger.”

“He told me weeks earlier.”

“If you say so.” Another little shrug left the question open no matter what he claimed.