The Trouble With Moonlight Read Online Free PDF

children.”
    “How else to explain the unexplained?” Yes, she would miss this well-formed Mr. Langtree. Pity. Men of his acceptance were not common. But now that he knew of her abilities, as well as her address, she would need to rouse the family to move once again. Perhaps this time across an ocean.
    “I can’t remain here any longer.” She slipped the jacket from her shoulders. “My driver is waiting and my aunt will be worried.”
    “It’s not my intention to hold you prisoner.” He accepted the jacket and draped it over his arm. “In case you’ve forgotten, the door is unlocked.”
    She walked over to the library door and tested the truth of his statement. The door opened easily in her hand. She turned to face him.
    “Mr. Langtree, before I go, may I ask you a question? How did you know where to find me?”
    He smiled in a manner that brought heat to her chest. “I saw you when you recovered Mrs. Farthington’s necklace.”
    “The man in the study!” She gasped, suddenly realizing why he seemed familiar. “What were you doing there?”
    “I would have thought you’d have figured that out.” His cocky tone challenged her. “My name is not Langtree. I’m afraid I invented the character to lure you to this house.” He moved to the cabinet and withdrew a crystal decanter. “Would you care for a brandy?”
    “Not while in phase,” she replied absently, still puzzling over his statement. “You lied about your identity?” She supposed she should feel insulted by his deceit, but as one who routinely lied about her own circumstances, she was apt to be more forgiving. “So how do I address you?”
    “My name is Locke, Miss Havershaw. James Locke.” He raised his glass to her as if in salute. “Named by a frustrated headmistress at the orphanage who recognized my youthful ability to extricate myself from a locked room.”
    She laughed. “The name does suit you better than Langtree.” She thought back to the night in Pembroke’s study. “Let’s see . . . It was late. You were hiding behind the draperies in the study. The safe was unlocked, but that’s not unusual.” She couldn’t resist the slight smile that tugged at her lips. “Remembering a combination must be taxing, just as iron walls must provide a false sense of security. I often find safe doors closed with the latch not thrown.”
    “Do you, indeed?” he replied. “I’ve not experienced that tendency. I suppose it becomes a question of what one considers valuable enough to secure.”
    She glanced up quickly. Her eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in accusation, though he couldn’t see it. Instead, she let her disapproval drip through her tone. “You’re a thief.”
    “Such as yourself?” he added with a raised brow. “May I remind you that the necklace was not your property. That would make you a—”
    “Her husband shouldn’t have gambled away her property. I was only retrieving it for her.” Indignation stiffened her back. “I told you before Mr. Lang—Locke. I’m not a thief.”
    “Relax, Miss Havershaw. Neither am I, at least, not in the common sense.” He settled behind the desk with his drink in hand. “I only take information.”
    “You’re a spy?” She had heard of the existence of such people, but she’d never actually encountered one before. The notion made him a bit more intriguing.
    He smiled. Though not confirming her suspicion, she knew she had hit the truth of it. “But why would you be spying on Lord Pembroke?” Curious, she moved back into the room, but left the library door wide open in case she needed to exit quickly.
    “Have you heard of the Great Game?” he asked, abandoning his teasing tones for a more serious nature.
    “I haven’t time for games, sir. I have a family to support.” And a family to protect, she thought, again regretting that she would have to put a great distance between herself and Mr. Locke. She’d need a distance that not even his handsome nose would