Free River Of Fire by Mary Jo Putney

be held here. We're less than a mile from Sir Anthony. If he hears I've been seen entering your house, I'd be out on the street five minutes later. For the same reason, don't write me at Seaton House unless it's an emergency." Kenneth handed Bowden a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it. "I'm using this postal receiving station for personal correspondence. I'll stop and check for messages every day or two."
    Bowden put the address in a desk drawer. "Now that you are established, I trust matters will proceed more quickly."
    "Perhaps, but I suspect this investigation will take longer than either of us wishes." Kenneth got to his feet. "I'll see myself out. Good day to you, Lord Bowden."
    He left the study, then paused, hidden in the shadowed hall, as the butler admitted a small, graceful woman with silvery hair. From the way the butler greeted her, it was clear that she was the lady of the house. So Bowden had married, if only to keep the title out of his despised brother's hands.
    As Lady Bowden went to the stairs, she noticed Kenneth and gave an absent nod. Kenneth wondered what kind of marriage had been possible when Bowden was obsessed with his former fiancee.
    On the walk back to Seaton House, he thought about how his secretarial position was turning out to be rather enjoyable. Both Sir Anthony and Rebecca were so involved in their painting that they didn't question his activities as long as his work got done. Sir Anthony's friends had accepted the new secretary with careless good humor and talked freely in front of him. He had already learned some useful facts that way.
    It had taken longer to establish his authority over the servants, but they'd settled down nicely after he discharged the laziest maid and hired a butler, an efficient man called Minton. Soon the household would be running with silken smoothness
    In Kenneth's rare free moments, there were marvelous works of art to admire. His chief regret was that he saw so little of Rebecca. After the talk they'd had his first day, he'd thought it would be easy to win her confidence and learn more about her mother's death, but as he'd told Lord Bowden, he scarcely ever saw her. Guests were usually present at dinner, which made serious conversation impossible. She would eat quietly, then excuse herself from joining the company in the drawing room.
    He had wondered once or twice if she was deliberately avoiding him, but that seemed unlikely. It was merely that her interests were elsewhere. Having accepted Kenneth as part of the household, she paid no more attention to him than she would a piece of furniture. He must find excuses to talk with her.
    The devil of it was that his interest in seeing more of Rebecca was not solely because of his mission. He wanted to know more about her talent and her sharp edges and her hidden sensuality. The fact that she intrigued him increased his distaste for his deception. If Sir Anthony was eventually charged with murder, Rebecca would surely learn that Kenneth had entered the house under false pretenses. He didn't like to think what her reaction would be.
    His route took him by the postal receiving station he was using. It was part of a stationer's shop, which meant it would be easy to find excuses to visit. He stopped and found that a letter from his sister had arrived. Beth must have written back as soon as she received his note. He broke the wafer and read the single, closely written sheet.
    Dear Kenneth,
    I'm glad your work is going well. Matters are in surprisingly good heart here, largely because of the arrival of your friend Lieutenant Davidson. As you implied, he was rather subdued at first, but his mood has improved markedly. His sense of humor is really quite droll. Cousin Olivia and I are both very fond of him.
    Because of Lieutenant Davidson's crippled left arm, I find that with him I am not self-conscious about my clubfoot the way I am with most strangers. Each morning we ride together about the estate. He has a