Free Lie by Moonlight by Amanda Quick Page B

love or passion is involved in this. From all accounts, Larkin is motivated solely by two things: power and money.”
    The door that connected the breakfast room to the kitchen opened. Mrs. Oates appeared, her round, cheerful face reddened from the heat of the stove. She carried a large silver platter of scrambled eggs, crisply cooked fish and toast.
    “Good morning, Miss Glade.” Mrs. Oates smiled warmly. “I trust you had a good night’s rest?”
    “Yes, thank you,” Concordia said. “The young ladies are still in their beds, though. I think it would be best if they were not disturbed. They were quite exhausted.”
    “Of course, poor dears. Never fear, I’ll make certain that they are not bothered.” Mrs. Oates set the platter on the table and poured tea into Concordia’s cup. “So nice to have a house full of guests. We rarely entertain here.” She glanced at Ambrose. “Isn’t that right, sir?”
    “Yes,” Ambrose said.
    Concordia cleared her throat very delicately. “Mr. Stoner does not care for houseguests?”
    “Oh, my, no, that’s not the problem,” Mrs. Oates said. “The problem is that there’s no lady in the house. You know how it is with gentlemen living on their own. They can’t be bothered to plan a dinner party or a ball, let alone invite guests to stay.”
    “I see,” Concordia said. “I hope we won’t be too much trouble.”
    “Not at all, not at all.” Mrs. Oates went back through the door and vanished into the kitchen.
    Concordia took a spoonful of eggs from the platter. “Mr. Wells, I have been contemplating the extremely unusual nature of our association.”
    Damnation, he thought. That did not bode well.
    “Odd situations necessitate unusual associations,” he assured her.
    “I am aware of that.” She picked up her fork. “But it occurs to me that it would be best if you and I were to put our connection on a businesslike footing, as it were.”
    “No offense, Miss Glade, but what the deuce are you talking about?”
    She looked at him with a level gaze. “You mentioned that you are a private inquiry agent.”
    “Yes,” he said, cautious now.
    “Very well. I wish to employ you to make inquiries on behalf of my four students.”
    He sat back slowly. “There is no need to hire me, Miss Glade. I am already investigating the situation in which you and the girls are involved on behalf of another client.”
    A speculative light appeared in Concordia’s eyes. “You have yet to tell me any of the details of that situation.”
    “My client has engaged me to look into the circumstances surrounding the recent death of her sister. She believes that it is a matter of murder, not simply an unfortunate accident as the authorities assume.”
    “I see.” She frowned. “How did you come to be at the castle?”
    “In the course of my inquiries I spoke with an informant who hinted that there might be a connection between the woman’s death andwhatever was going on at Aldwick Castle. I went to make some observations. You know the rest.”
    Her mouth tightened at the corners. “Yours is an exceedingly mysterious business, sir. All the more reason why I would feel more comfortable if we secured our arrangement with a formal contract.”
    For some reason he found that suggestion thoroughly irritating. “I see no necessity for a contract.”
    Her fine brows came together above the rims of her spectacles. “In spite of Mrs. Oates’s kind remarks, my students and I are not really guests in this household. For heaven’s sake, the master of the house does not even know that we are here.”
    “Don’t worry about Stoner.”
    She ignored that. “You have offered us protection and I have accepted because I think it is in the best interests of my girls to do so. However, I would prefer that we establish a clear understanding of our arrangements. Hiring you would seem to be the most straightforward way to accomplish that.”
    He propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and put his