She hadn’t agreed yet to work with him, he noted. He’d been furious when he went through his brother’s notes and pieced together the extent of what James had planned. A few things still in motion, his brother had told him, with an airy wave of his hand. No doubt he thought those few things unimportant.
Miss Marshall leaned forward. “Amanda? Alice?” There was a ferocity in her tone, almost a growl at the back of her throat as if she were a mother wolf protecting her cubs.
“Not that I know of.” Edward frowned. “He wants Stephen Shaughnessy.”
She blinked and sat back. “Stephen? He writes one column a week. It’s purely for amusement.”
“Yes, but he’s a man.”
She snorted.
He tried again. “Shaughnessy is an excellent target because so many dislike him.”
Her jaw squared. “Only idiots dislike him.”
Protective and loyal, too. “Ah, but there are a great many idiots,” Edward told her, “and he inspires so many of them. He writes a column making fun of men. He’s Catholic. He’s Irish. He doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. You saw it yourself—matters are bad enough that his own classmates pelted him with dye.”
Miss Marshall winced. “That was one of his classmates?”
“Yes. There are a great many who are primed to believe the worst of him. And Delacey knows him—his father was a servant on his family’s estate. There’s some sort of bad blood there. I’m sure if you asked Shaughnessy, he could explain the details.”
She didn’t nod. Instead, she set her chin even more mulishly. “So what is Delacey planning to do to him?”
“Tonight, someone is going to remove a family possession from another student’s room and place it among Shaughnessy’s belongings.”
Her expression grew dark indeed. He smiled at her languidly, refusing to let her see the fury he still felt at that.
Having Stephen charged with theft, and likely removed from school, was what his brother had dismissed as a few small things, ones that need not concern either of them overly much.
Miss Marshall considered this. “What do you propose to do about it?”
“I’ll follow the man in, take the item, hide it somewhere outside,” Edward said. “I could do all that without you. But it would be best if Shaughnessy had an unassailable alibi for the evening. I trust you can make that happen.”
“I can get him away,” she said slowly.
“Excellent. Then we’re in agreement.”
She held out a quelling hand. “Not yet. I still don’t trust you, Mr. Clark. For all I know, you’re planning to arrange the particulars of this as soon as you’ve gained my compliance. And since you propose to go alone, there will be nobody to gainsay your word about what you discover. Convenient for you.”
That sense of excitement returned, prickling Edward’s palms. “What do you suggest instead?”
She gave him a brilliant smile. “You may remain as my guest here throughout the day. You’ll be a guest who never leaves, who interacts with no one else. That way, I’ll know you’ve not sent any messages arranging anything.”
“That’s a great deal to ask of a man who is offering to help you.”
She glanced over at him. “But then, you’re not offering to help me. You don’t give a damn about me. You want me to help you achieve revenge. You’ll surely put up with a little inconvenience for that, won’t you?”
She hadn’t missed a thing. Edward conceded this with a wave of his hand. “Continue on. I stay here all day. And then what will happen?”
“I’ll accompany you to Shaughnessy’s room this night,” she said. “I’ll search it. We’ll see if that item is there together.”
“And if it is, you’ll trust me?”
She tapped the forged reference he’d left on her desk and smiled even more brilliantly. “If it’s there, I won’t turn you over to the authorities. It was good of you to demonstrate your skill with forgery so beautifully in front of me. You’ve even left me evidence. So if you’re telling the truth about this, I suppose I’ll let you go free. For now.”
He absolutely should have been annoyed with her. Instead, he wanted to laugh—and to shake her hand and tell her that she played a jolly good game.
Come to think of it, he didn’t precisely want to let go of her hand, once he’d given it a shake.
“Miss Marshall,” he said, “are you blackmailing me with my attempt to blackmail you? Can I now threaten to go to the authorities and turn this convoluted double blackmail plot into triple blackmail?”
She leaned forward, gesturing him to come close with a finger. He set his hands on the desk and leaned in close. They were separated by twelve inches and an expanse of wood. She licked her lips, and he felt his mouth go dry. Oh, no. There was nothing boring about her. He was riveted, in fact.