Dangerous in Diamonds by Madeline Hunter Page B

little ledger book out of his coat for those notes. He bowed to Katherine. “Miss Johnson, if you would do me the honor?”
    Clearly confused, Katherine allowed Mr. Edwards to remove her from the chamber.
    Castleford settled into a chair facing the settee. Daphne hoped his relaxation in that chair heralded a similar relinquishment of the severity his face wore.
    Another dark scrutiny came her way. This time she could see the devilish lights in his eyes, only today they made him appear more dangerous than mischievous. Castleford was not a different man today, but his temperament seemed to sharpen along with his wits when he remained cold sober.
    “Forgive my removing Miss Johnson with that little deception regarding her purpose here, Mrs. Joyes. I thought you might not want your friend to hear our conversation. I did not know if you had confided in her,” he said.
    “I have not confided. It is best she is not here.” She had counted on Castleford to be circumspect around Katherine during this visit and to communicate his decision without being explicit. She had not expected him to receive her with a little entourage in tow.
    “Then let us discuss the business at hand. Goodale here has a talent for finding information quickly. He is much smarter than he looks and enjoys poring over documents and records. He did a bit of investigating, so that I would know what I required in order to make a decision last Tuesday.”
    Her blood pounded in hard, slow beats. “Investigating ?” It was all she could do to get the word out in a calm voice.
    She looked at Mr. Goodale cautiously. He in turn ignored the insult buried in Castleford’s praise and beamed with pleasure at his master’s expression of high regard.
    “It is wise to research inherited property, to see just what is what,” Mr. Goodale explained. “His Grace was inclined to move quickly, but I convinced him to be more measured, to ensure there were no unexpected elements that required consideration.”
    In other words, this solicitor had interfered with last Tuesday’s decision, whether it would have been good or bad for her. “How wise of you, sir.”
    He bowed his head. “I like to think that I serve my patrons well and give good counsel.”
    “Stop flattering yourself, Goodale,” Castleford said. “It is already wearying. You are only here for one reason, so get on with it.”
    “Certainly. Of course.” Mr. Goodale positioned himself in her clear view for his performance. He unrolled the paper he carried. He held it up so his nose, eyes, and balding pate rose above the top edge and his paunch became a prop for the bottom.
    It was a map.
    “I had this made just for our conversation, Mrs. Joyes,” he explained, his voice muffled by the paper. “You can see that everything is enlarged and much more easily viewed than on normal-size maps.”
    He glanced to the duke, looking for praise. When none came, Daphne did her best to fill in. “How clever of you, sir. I confess that most maps are so small as to be illegible to me.”
    “Me too! Hence my inspiration to make this easier for us both. I drew it myself, and believe even the scale is approximately correct. I am particularly proud of how I—”
    “Move on, Mr. Goodale.”
    “Of course, Your Grace. Now, look here, Mrs. Joyes. This is Cumberworth.” He pointed to a collection of squares and rectangles on the map’s lower right. “Here is your home.” He pointed to the lane, house, and gardens of The Rarest Blooms to the town’s northwest. “And, as I anticipated, there is indeed an unexpected element. Right—here.” He pointed to a large plot of land north of the copse of trees that bordered her property.
    “That is fallow ground, unworked by its owner. That holding has been uninhabited for years. It has some trees and brush. Nothing more,” she said.
    “You misunderstand, dear lady. This is not a separate holding north of you. It is part of the property on which you now live. The whole acreage