10 Chapter 10

Both our parents were very fair-skinned, and it was easy to see the red on his cheek and chin, which could only be whisker burn.

This close to him, I could also smell the musky odor of a man’s cologne that permeated his suit jacket. He never wore cologne. He would also never let a man get that close to him. Unless…

“What have you gotten into, Jefferson?”

“That’s not quite the phrase I’d use, little sister!” His smile was wolfish, and I knew he’d tell me nothing further. “I have to go. Oh, and Portia? Check the fifth shelf from the bottom midway as you come into the shop on the lower level.”

I didn’t need to look into the alcove to know that I was once more alone. I went back down the metal steps, my footsteps ringing loudly on them. On the shelf, exactly where he’d told me, I found a first edition of Mrs. Radcliffe’s Mysteries of Udolpho, the four volumes in excellent condition for being a hundred and sixty years old.

Lady Portia had a weakness for “horrid” novels.

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