“A little testy today, aren't we?”

Blake looked up and saw James standing in the doorway. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Furthering our investigation of Oliver Prewitt, which is more than I can say for you.”

“I have had my hands more than full with his ward.”

“Yes, I thought as much.”

Blake yanked the dart free, sending little pieces of plaster to the floor. “You know what I meant.”

“Absolutely,” James said with a slow smile, “but I'm not entirely certain you know what you meant.”

“Stop being so bloody annoying, Riverdale, and tell me what you found out.”

James sprawled in a leather chair and loosened his cravat. “I did a bit more surveillance on Prewitt Hall.”

“Why didn't you tell me you were going?”

“You would have wanted to come with me.”

“You're damned right. I—”

“Someone,” James interrupted, “had to remain here with our guest.”

“Our guest,” Blake replied sarcastically, “is a woman grown. She isn't going to expire from neglect if we leave her to her own devices for a few hours.”

“True, but you might return to find another one of your rooms in shambles.”

“Don't be an ass, Riverdale.”

James made great pretense of studying his fingernails. “You're lucky I don't take offense at such comments.”

“You're lucky I don't ram your bloody tongue down your throat.”

“It's touching to see you so defensive of a woman,” James said with a lazy smile.

“I'm not defensive. And stop trying to bait me.”

James shrugged. “At any rate, one can spy with far more stealth than two. I didn't want to appear conspicuous.”

“Riverdale, you live to be inconspicuous.”

“Yes, it is rather jolly to blend into the woodwork on occasion, isn't it? It's quite amazing what people will say when they don't know who you are. Or,” he added with a wicked smile, “when they don't even know you're there.”

“Did you discover anything?”

“Nothing of import, although Prewitt is definitely living beyond his means. Or at least what his means ought to be.”

Blake picked up another dart and took aim. “Step away.”

James did so, watching without much interest as the dart sailed from Blake's hand to the bull's-eye.

“That's more like it,” Blake murmured. He turned to James and said, “The problem is that we can't automatically assume his money is coming from treasonous activities. If he is indeed carrying messages for Carlotta De Leon, I'm certain he's been paid handsomely for it. However, we also know he smuggles brandy and silk; he's been making a living that way for years. And he certainly could be robbing Caroline's inheritance out from under her.”

“I'd be damned surprised if he weren't.”

“But as it happens,” Blake said with a slightly smug smile, “I did a bit of investigating myself.”

“Did you now?”

“It turns out Prewitt has an office he keeps locked at all times. Caroline wasn't allowed inside, and neither was his son.”

James's face spread into a wide smile. “Bull's-eye.”