Page 39 of A Relentless Rake

“Because you always do it for him?”

She halted in anger, placed her hand on his chest, and stopped him. He looked down at her hand. Could she feel his heart pounding beneath her fingertips?

“Because we’ve alwayscollaborated,” she answered. “I would know if he’s taken a commission. He hasn’t.”

“Does he receive a lot of visitors?” What would it feel like if she clenched her fingers into his chest?

“Only those connected to the school.”

This hellcat had claws, and he wanted to feel them scratch across his skin. “Does he receive a lot of messages and correspondence?”

“He’s a schoolmaster. What correspondence could he possibly have?”

By the time this conversation was finished, though, he’d be lucky if she didn’t slap him. “He’s also a famous mathematician.”

“He’s lauded in certain circles.” Fresh irritation—tinged by jealousy—colored her voice. “He receives some correspondence related to that, I suppose. Why does it matter?”

“He has friends.”

“Of course.”

“Who?”

“Men from the Society, friends from university, people he knows from—”

“Does he spend a lot of time with them?”

“I don’t know if he—”

“Have you noticed any new friends lately?”

“I don’t know!” She tossed up her hands, overwhelmed by his questioning. “I don’t know who all he spends time with or writes to. How would I know that?” Her aggravation had reached its boiling point, and she pressed an angry finger against his chest. “Whyare you asking me this?”

He slowly reached up to cover her hand with his to hold it against his chest. So she couldn’t slap him. “Because if you don’t know who he spends his time with, then how can you be certain that he’s not doing work behind your back?” he said quietly. “He disappeared for two days and didn’t tell you he was leaving. Don’t you wonder what else he’s keeping from you?”

She parted her lips in stunned silence.

“Trust me. I know all about how people keep secrets.” Her fingers trembled, and he couldn’t stop himself from tightening his hold reassuringly around them. “Tell me, Olivia. What would revolutionaries want with your brother’s work?”

With a strangled laugh, she nodded toward the stained gown. “I can’t even attend a ball without making a spectacle of myself. You think I’m cagey enough to know anything about sedition?”

“I think you’re brilliant.” He squeezed her hand and felt her sharp intake of breath in response. “And I think you’ve probably noticed a lot more than you realize.” When she opened her mouth to refute that, he lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss to the backs of her fingers. He pressed again, “Has your brother worked on any architectural plans recently?”

“No, not for almost two years.” She blinked, confused. “What on earth do building plans have to do with a revolution?”

I wish I knew.“Does he keep copies of his work?”

“Usually.” She frowned. “Why does that matter?”

“Because if I can see the copies, then I might be able to discover what part he’s playing in this.”

And who he’s working with.Alec needed the copy of the building plans that matched the charred fragment. Something on those plans would lead them to Scepter and prevent the next assassination attempt, he was certain. Yet time was not on his side.

Right then, neither was Olivia. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “So you can have him arrested?”

“So I can use the copies to prove him innocent.”Or make certain he hangs if he isn’t.“If I don’t have them and your brother’s arrested, I won’t be able to save him.”

She bit her bottom lip, and he could practically see her mind whirling to determine if she could believe him. “Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you worried I’ll tell Henry?”