They were escorted to their host’s study, where they were welcomed warmly. Kendra studied Kirkland. He was tall, dark, reserved, and enigmatic. Suzanne had described him as a handsome, charming spider in the midst of a vast web of connections. She’d been right about the good looks and charm, and Kendra had no trouble believing in the connections.

As his guests seated themselves in chairs set around the fire, Kirkland glanced at Lucas’s shoulder. “I hope your injury this morning wasn’t serious, Foxton?”

“A minor wound.” Lucas’s brows arched. “It appears that your legendary ability to collect information is well earned.”

Kirkland smiled. “People talk. Your swordsmanship was much admired.” Turning to Kendra, he said, “I’m told you prefer to be known as Kendra Douglas rather than Lady Denshire?”

She raised her chin, meeting his gaze steadily. “You are informed correctly, my lord. I’m glad to be rid of my husband, but I must reclaim my son and if possible, my reputation.”

“Those two things are closely related,” he said quietly. “Tell me your story in your own words.”

She was becoming practiced at telling the sordid tale. She ended by saying, “Do you believe me, or do you have more questions?”

“I believe you,” he said promptly. “I’ve kept an eye on Denshire for some time, and he’s been involved in several unsavory situations. It’s easy to believe he would act against you in such an appalling way. It might be possible to attack his unorthodox legal strategy, but better by far to reveal his lies and deceit.”

As a maid came in with a tea trolley and began quietly serving tea, cakes, and small sandwiches, Kendra opened her reticule and removed another copy of her list. “Here are potential witnesses.”

Kirkland scanned the list, nodding occasionally. “This is a good start. Another way to gather information is to place someone in the household. I know a woman who is good at that sort of work. You would need to talk to her about what to expect.”

Kendra hesitated. “Any woman who goes to work there would be well advised to be skilled in self-defense.”

“This woman is.” He glanced up at the maid. “Hazel, you’ve proved how invisible you can be. Now sit down and join us for tea. Miss Douglas, meet Miss Wilson.”

“Aye, my lord,” the young woman said with a London accent. Her demeanor changed as she moved from overlooked servant to guest. She poured herself a cup of tea. “Like all good servants, I was listening at the door before I came in with the tea cart, so I have some idea of what I need to learn, Miss Douglas.”