Put that way, her defiance did sound willfully childish.
“What do you want?” she asked warily.
“A daily report, with detailed information about your activities and what you have discovered. That means an accurate account of who you meet with and what is said.”
“Including a menu of what I have for breakfast?”
“I will assume you fill your stomach, seeing as you claim to think better that way. And believe me, Madam whoever-you-are, you will need all your wits about you from now on.” He leaned in a little closer, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Look, I am conducting my own investigations, and it could prove dangerous if we were to trip over each other’s feet. Furthermore, I may see some clue that you don’t.”
Arianna swallowed a sarcastic retort. He was right, and she was pragmatic enough to admit it.
“Very well,” she replied. “But I also have some demands of my own.”
A tiny nod signaled that she should go on.
“I need the freedom of having my own residence. These men must perceive me as independent of you and your family as quickly as possible.”
Saybrook considered the matter for a long moment before replying. “I’ll arrange it. Along with a staff, of course.”
“And a carriage,” added Arianna, taking some small pleasure in seeing his mouth thin. “Am I putting a pinch in your purse, milord?”
“Does justice have a price?” he countered.
“Of course it does. The only real question is whether one is willing to pay it.”
“You’ve a jaded view of life for someone so young,” replied the earl slowly. “I wonder why.”
“Why?” echoed Arianna. “Because I’ve seen enough of human nature to know the difference between fairy tales and reality.” She paused. “I trust you aren’t going to insult my intelligence by trying to convince me that the world is filled with sweetness and light.”
It may have been a quirk of the flame, but his eyes seemed to fill with shadows. “No, I’m not. But nor am I going to cede victory to bitterness and blackness so easily. Good can occasionally triumph over evil.”
“Dear God, your grandmother must have read you a few too many bedtime tales of heroic knights slaying dragons.” Her lip curled. “Or rescuing damsels in distress.”
The barb didn’t draw blood. He looked at her thoughtfully before asking, “And you, madam—what stories were read to you at night?”
Arianna felt her chest constrict. Looking away, she drew in a gulp of air, forcing her muscles to relax. “Let us not waste time indulging in childhood memories, Lord Saybrook.” Don’t look back. She had learned early on that to survive, one must focus on what lay ahead.
“We’ve still a number of practical matters to work out. You wish a daily report, and yet we can’t be seen together. Committing any information to paper would be unwise—”
“Thank you for the primer on what won’t work,” interrupted the earl. “However, I am surprised that you, with your creative mind, are overlooking the obvious answer.”
She frowned.
“Given your experience in appearing as a man, it should be simple for a street urchin to slip through the streets in the dark of night and enter my gardens.”
“I shall likely be busy most nights,” Arianna reminded him.
“Improvise, madam. It’s something at which you excel.” His voice held an undertone of amusement, but it quickly died away. “Make no mistake—we shall both need to be ready to react to the unexpected. Else we haven’t a snowball’s chance in hell of solving this case.”
Hell. Arianna closed her eyes for an instant, recalling a ramshackle room . . . the shriek of the wind . . . her scarlet-stained hands. . . .
“Hell,” she said aloud. “Like you, sir, I’ve been there and back, so I’m not afraid of doing whatever it takes to catch the real culprit.”
“How fortuitous that we have met, madam.” The earl eased his big body back against the seat. “For neither am I.”
“Well, then, it should be interesting to see which one of us is most impervious to the devil’s fire.”
10
It seems that the Church continued to debate the use of chocolate. By the beginning of the seventeenth century there was a great debate on whether it should be considered a food or a drink. The distinction was important because of the many fast days. The richness of chocolate helped ease hunger pangs, so the stricter clergy frowned on its use. However, the Pope ruled that because it was taken in liquid form, it was permissible. . . .
2 sticks (½ pound) unsalted butter
5 ounces unsweetened chocolate
2 tablespoons instant espresso powder
2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
5 large eggs
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt
1. Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle. Butter and flour a 13-by-9-inch baking pan.
2. Melt butter and chocolate with espresso powder in a 3-quart heavy saucepan over low heat, whisking until smooth. Remove from heat and cool to lukewarm. Whisk in sugar and vanilla. Whisk in eggs 1 at a time until mixture is glossy and smooth.
3. Whisk together flour, cinnamon, and salt, then whisk into chocolate mixture.
4. Spread batter in pan and bake until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out with crumbs adhering, 25 to 30 minutes. Cool completely before cutting.
An elderly butler—even more elderly than the frail figure seated by the tall mullioned windows—led the earl into the sun-dappled morning room. “Your nephew, milady,” he announced in a reedy voice. “Who assures me that you won’t mind receiving a visit this early in the day.”
“You are looking well, Aunt Constantina,” murmured Saybrook, bending to plant a kiss on the lady’s cheek.
“Hmmph. I wish I could say the same for you.” The dowager Marchioness of Sterling set aside the newspaper and waved a frail finger at an armchair facing hers. Although her wrinkled skin was pale as aged parchment, and her auburn hair had faded to a silvery gray, the signs of encroaching age had not diminished her regal bearing. She still appeared a force to be reckoned with.
“Don’t stand on ceremony with me, young man,” she ordered. “Sit, before you fall on your culo.
“I wasn’t aware that a lady of your rank would know such a vulgar word,” said the earl, settling his aforementioned arse on the brocade pillows. “Much less say it aloud.”
“I’ve accumulated a great deal of knowledge over my many years.” She paused to ring for tea. “And see no reason not to express it.”
“I was hoping as much.”
Lady Sterling’s pale gray eyes immediately looked more alert. “Does that mean your visit is not simply about making amends for your shocking neglect of your elderly great-aunt?”
“My favorite elderly great-aunt,” amended Saybrook.
She gave a snort. “Your only elderly great-aunt.”
“I did bring a little something to make up for my shameful neglect.” He drew a small pasteboard box from his pocket.
“My taste runs to sapphires these days,” quipped the dowager.
Leaning forward, he placed it in her lap. “I shall leave the jewels to your other suitors. I think you’ll find these even more delicious.”