Read Online A Man Of Many Talents by Deborah Simmons - Free Book Online

but she finally pushed the keys toward him. Biting back a smile, Christian went through the same motions, just to assure himself that none truly did fit. He used more strength perhaps than Miss Parkinson, but he couldn’t manage to unlock ei ther door. Ignoring her I-told- you-so expression, he tendered the ring to her with a gallant bow.
    “It appears that the necessary keys are missing. Are you certain that you received no others when you took possession of the property?”
    “Quite sure,” she answered firmly.
    Christian turned to the colonel. “Do you have any idea where another set or any loose keys might be?”
    “I’m afraid not, my lord. Can’t say that I’ve ever known anything to be locked up around here. Perhaps you might find them among Bascomb’s personal effects?” He sent a glance toward Miss Parkinson, who shook her head.
    “Perhaps a set has been tucked away in the study,” the colonel suggested. When the Governess gave him a tentative nod of assent, he set out in that direction, followed by Christian and his hostess.
    Miss Parkinson appeared to take great pains to avoid her companion, hurrying forward to catch up with the colonel, and Christian wondered yet again just what made her so intriguing to him. All good reason told him to decry everything about her, so why did all his other senses stir to life at the very sight of her? Hell, at the very whiff of her?
    “I say, this is turning out to be quite a mystery, isn’t it?” the colonel called out over his shoulder.
    And Christian, though he remained silent, could only agree wholeheartedly.

 
     
     
     
    4
     
     
    C hristian’s second view of the study was a bit more thorough than th e first, although his attention still wandered to his hostess. When she moved toward the desk, he couldn’t help watching as she bent over a drawer, his reward a delightful view of a gently curved posterior. Unfortunately, the object of his interest chose that moment to turn and glare at him, making him wonder if she had the same preternatural senses possessed by many a governess.
    Flashing her an innocent smile, Christian quickly returned to his task, looking for any place where keys might be absently tossed or hidden away. Much to his irritation, the disorder made the task difficult, for mounds of papers littered the surfaces of a Baroque side table, a Tudor chair, and an ugly bureau. This Bascomb obviously had no taste and was messy besides.
    Approaching the table cautiously, Christian lifted an old account book, dislodging a pile of what appeared to be personal correspondence and old receipts. Hell, anything could be hidden under all this rubble. “Was it always so cluttered in here?” he wondered, sifting through some letters in case the keys had been tossed among them.
    “I say, it is a bit of a muddle, isn’t it?” the colonel said as he stepped behind the desk to survey the area. “I wasn’t in here very often, it being Bascomb’s private study, but I don’t recall it looking so haphazard. Usually, he was quite organized. Everything and everyone in its place, so to speak.” Christian found that hard to believe.
    “Well, it was worse than this when I arrived,” Miss Parkinson commented a bit defensively, though certainly no one had accused her of creating the confusion. “The ordering of it all has kept me very busy.”
    No wonder she looked so annoyed all the time. Christian nearly suggested that she toss the entire load into the nearest fireplace and move on to some more rewarding activity. He was sure he could think of something that would qualify, but he didn’t expect his hostess to agree. With a sigh he went back to his search, mindful that were he anywhere else, he could hire someone to do the chore for him. No doubt the earl, whom Christian held responsible for all his discomforts here, would be highly amused.
    Although he cast frequent glances at his hostess and tried to inch close enough to catch another whiff of lilacs,