The cat had begun purring more insistently, bumping at Stephen’s fingers. He allowed the feline to have the biscuit, his appetite gone. The cat licked at the powdered sugar, nudged it once and abandoned it.

Carstairs leaned in. “If you find that list of investors, I want to know about it.”

Stephen inclined his head, though he had no intention of disclosing any information. “I’ll advise you if I discover anything.” He rose and escorted his guest to the door. “Good afternoon, Carstairs.”

The viscount departed, and Stephen was still convinced that he’d played a role in the lost shipment. Carstairs kept trying to place blame upon Hollingford, and though Stephen could not fault it, his suspicions grew.

He returned to the parlor, sitting down before the hearth. He steepled his fingers, trying to think. What had he missed? Closing his eyes, he struggled to piece together the images of that night.

The memories remained locked away, despite his attempts to uncover them. He suspected he would not learn more until he had found the list of investors. Someone had stolen the profits from The Lady Valiant.

Someone who needed money.

Silence permeated the room, and Stephen was about to leave when he noticed the motionless body of the cat. His spine grew rigid when he realized that, beside the cat lay the abandoned biscuit.

Chapter Nineteen

The familiar grey skies of London greeted Emily as she disembarked from the coach. Nigel had insisted that she come with him on his trip to town. Although Stephen would be angry, she didn’t want to remain alone at Nigel’s residence.

Her uncle took her hand, assisting her down. “Chin up, my dear. Remember, you are the daughter of a baron and the wife of an earl. There is no need to look as though you wish to flee into the streets.”

His warm smile encouraged her, so Emily straightened and followed him into his London residence. The townhouse was every bit as grand as the country estate with white windowsills against a dark brick façade.

They had brought the children with them, for she would not even consider leaving them behind. Royce had whined and moped, at first, but brightened when she mentioned seeing Stephen again.

The servants welcomed her, and her bedchamber was decorated in shades of delicate cream and blue. A thick, luxurious carpet covered the floors, and she warmed herself by the fire. Though she tried to rest from her journey by reading the book of cooking receipts Stephen had given her, she could not prevent herself from pacing.

The very thought of seeing Stephen again filled her with trepidation. He wasn’t going to be pleased with her. And if she dared set foot in society, as Nigel wished her to do, he’d be furious.

Was it only because of the danger? Or was he ashamed of her? The self-doubts plagued her, multiplying with each hour.