Page 50 of Prescription for Sin

Emma nearly stumbled. “I—what?”

His lips twitched. “Oh, I’ve known about that hole for years. Alexi used to spy on my business meetings through it before we married. I saw no harm in it. You’re both clever enough to know when to hold your tongues.”

“You knew all this time?” She glanced up at him, finding only amusement in his expression.

“Naturally. Though I must say, your interest in water infrastructure is rather more specific than Alexi’s general curiosity about my affairs.” He smoothly sidestepped a cluster of young ladies. “Is there something about London Water Works I should know about?”

Emma hesitated, then whispered, “I believe their new pipes may be faulty. The cholera outbreaks follow the pattern of their recent installations too precisely to be coincidence.”

“Ah.” Arthur’s tone remained light, though his eyes sharpened. “And I suppose your research proves this?”

“It would, if Dr Moreland hadn’t stolen it.”

“The younger or elder?”

“Both, it seems.” She couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from her voice.

“Speaking of the younger, Alexi tells me you nursed him back to health in Rochester.” His smile turned knowing. “And that there might be…feelings involved?”

“No! I—”

“Stop the research, Emma.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Let me handle this.”

“How?”

“Haven’t the faintest idea yet.” He grinned boyishly. “But I’m rather good at sorting out predicaments, wouldn’t you say?”

“This is more than a mere entanglement. If what I suspect is true—”

“Then their ruin is imminent.” He sighed dramatically. “Which is why I absolutely cannot approve of you getting involved with the son. Terribly awkward at family dinners, having to pretend we didn’t destroy his inheritance.”

"I must persist. While you prevent further casualties, I shall uncover the source of the disease and those responsible."

"Your Dr Moreland proves most capable in this endeavour."

She regarded him with astonishment. "You've been in consultation with him?"

"Naturally. He holds the key to unravelling this catastrophe."

"You conduct these investigations without my input? When I stand at the very precipice of understanding?"

Her brother-in-law bestowed upon her the indulgent smile of a benevolent patriarch. "My dear Emma. Though I hold you in highest regard, you possess all the subtlety of a charging stallion in a porcelain emporium."

"Why must everyone liken me to unruly livestock?" she protested.

“Surely you can deduce why. If an event occurs with such frequency, one must consider whether the fault lies not in the observers but in oneself—much like your habit of interrupting intimate moments.”

Emma couldn't suppress her mirth despite the gravity of their discourse. “You’re insufferable!”

"So Alexi frequently reminds me." His eyes softened as he spotted his wife across the room. "Speaking of my beloved... Ah, and here comes Lord Kincaid."

Emma followed his gaze to see Michael approaching, but her attention caught on Lady Amy in the distance. The young woman had paused in her conversation to straighten a footman's askew coat collar with unconscious kindness, exactly the sort of thing Michael would do. The same attention to detail, the same instinctive care for others.

"You know," Arthur said carefully, "many think you and Lord Kincaid would make a perfect match. Your shared medical passion, your history..."

"Will I have no secrets from you?" Emma sighed, though her eyes remained on Lady Amy.

"Of course not. Though if you wish to maintain any illusion of privacy, perhaps refrain from sharing with your sister."