Page 93 of Not a Fine Gentleman

She nodded before he completed his thought. “The same, I believe. Do you think Finch had Old Dan hire the rodent-faced man to kill Hennessy?”

“It looks that way.”

The logic was sound. Yet Mr. Finch had seemed a decent sort, generous with charities, fair to his servants, and well-mannered—even though the pompous man had been friends with Hennessy. “Why would he want Hennessy dead? They were friends. Surely he didn’t kill him over a snuffbox.”

“I plan to find out. Motive is an important part of building a case against an accused.” He paused as if weighing whether or not to divulge a secret. “One of the maids reported knocking over a snuffbox filled with small rocks.”

“Small rocks?”

“It’s possible they were uncut diamonds being smuggled in snuffboxes.”

“Mrs. Finch said she thought her husband and mine had considered buying diamond minds, or that they already had.”

“That must be it. There are too many clues pointing to Mr. Finch for it to be a coincidence.”

Margaret nodded. She should be overjoyed that they were about to solve the crime. But her thoughts circled back to Mrs. Finch. If Mr. Finch had paid someone to kill Hennessy, he’d hang or be transported. His wife would be left destitute and publicly rejected. “Poor Mrs. Finch. I shudder to think of what would happen to her if her husband is convicted of murder. I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone.”

Connor looked thoughtful. “One can only hope she has family or friends who will stand by her. Thank you for telling me what you learned.” He stepped back.

She came to her feet and seized his sleeve. “I’m coming with you.”

At last, his formal reserve melted away, revealing a tender smile. “I know you wish to continue to help, but you can’t very well go out to the docks. There are too many rough characters out, and I don’t want to have to worry about watching your back while I’m nosing around.”

“Perhaps you need someone to watch your back.”

The softness in his eyes deepened. “Perhaps I do. But you’d attract too much attention in a place like that.”

She folded her arms. “I think I’ve learned how to blend into the working class.”

His lopsided smile spread. “You have surprised me many times.”

“You’ve surprised me, as well. Especially earlier today.” Holding back a smile, she gave him a pointed look.

He let out a long exhale. So near him, every inch of her innermost parts heated and trembled. Very quietly, he said, “I apologize for overstepping my bounds.”

“I’m not looking for an apology, Connor. I told you I have no regrets. What I meant was that you surprised me with… well, how well you kissed me. It was wonderful.”

He remained still except for a quickening of his breath. His heady taste and scent called to her.

She stepped in so closely that the heat of his body warmed her at every point. Through parted lips, he drew in a shaky breath. She closed the gap between them and kissed him. Connor kissed her with the same urgency driving her. The warmth heated to a slow boil. All else faded away, and only the two of them remained, seeking and finding new joy. His hands came up to cradle her face, tilting his head just so, as if he were trying a puzzle piece and looking for the correct placement. A new tension built in her and grew outward until it consumed her, until every part of her became alive, aware, and so very happy. He deepened the kiss, scooping out more and more of her heart and bringing it into his until they created a greater whole. Their shared loneliness found a missing half, and they rejoiced in the completeness of this single, perfect union.

When they ended the kiss, he lifted his head, flushed and breathless.

“Oh, my,” she said, fanning her face and smiling. “I could do that all day and all night and still never get enough.”

Sultry and confident, he raised a brow. “I agree.”

Before long, she wouldn’t be satisfied with mere kisses. Spending all night in his arms, waking up to him every morning, sharing all their joys and sorrows, sounded like a little piece of heaven.

Voices in the main hall drew their attention. With the door still open, they might be seen. Reluctantly, she stepped back, smoothed her hair, and said, half-jokingly. “Perhaps we need to arrange for a more secluded place where we may indulge in a bit of privacy now and then.”

Tempting as that sounded, it could only lead one place, and she wouldn’t take that step without a commitment.

He jerked back as if she’d slapped him. Then shook his head, disbelievingly. “I won’t be a mere lover to be used and discarded on a whim.”

She blinked at him through a haze of need and sudden loss. What just happened?

“I will solve the crime of your husband’s murder, but I won’t be your plaything. My lady.” He executed a rather military turn and strode away just short of a run.