Garden of Lies by Amanda Quick Page A

certainly happened during the night, he thought. He wondered how long it would take her to get around to telling him what had upset her.
    â€œI am hoping I can persuade you to accompany me to an exhibition of some antiquities at a museum this morning,” he said. “I wish to do some research in preparation for our cataloging project.”
    She looked first startled and then wary. “I’m afraid I have work to do today.”
    â€œI believe your other client, Lady Fulbrook, will not be requiring your services until tomorrow. You may consider the visit to the museum a professional outing. I plan to make some notes which I will dictate to you. You’ll need your stenography notebook.”
    She stared at him for a couple of seconds as if she was about to argue but when he slanted a meaningful glance at Matty, understanding dawned in her eyes. Matty knew nothing about the investigation.
    â€œVery well.” Ursula took a breath, as though marshaling her forces. “In that case, let us be off. I’m sure Matty can deal with whatever comes up in the office today.”
    â€œYes, of course,” Matty said eagerly. “There’s nothing unusual on the calendar today. I’ll be fine. Oh, and by the way, I hired Miss Taylor. She will start training tomorrow.”
    Ursula nodded once, a crisp little acknowledgment of the new hire.
    â€œExcellent.”
    Slater glanced at Griffith, who was still hovering very close to Matty.
    â€œGriffith,” he said. “If you don’t mind?”
    Griffith straightened quickly. “Right, then. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Bingham. Thank you so much for the demonstration.”
    Matty smiled. Her cheeks turned a little more pink and her eyes were very bright.
    â€œYou’re very welcome, Mr. Griffith.”
    It was, Slater reflected, very likely the first time that Griffith had been addressed as
Mr.
Griffith. He appeared dazzled by the honor. He stood in the middle of the room, gazing at Matty, evidently struck dumb.
    Amused, Slater cleared his throat. “
Mr.
Griffith, if you don’t mind—”
    Griffith pulled himself together. “Right, sir, the carriage.”
    He tipped his cap to Matty and headed toward the door. Matty’s gaze lingered on him until he disappeared into the hall.
    Ursula retrieved her hat and gloves. Slater took her arm. She stiffened briefly but she did not pull away. He had been right about the tension radiating from her. He could feel it now that he was touching her, a small electrical current shivering throughout her body.
    He started to steer her toward the door.
    â€œUrsula, wait,” Matty said. Her chair scraped as she got to her feet. “You forgot your satchel. You’ll need your notebook and pencils if you are to assist Mr. Roxton today.”
    Ursula stopped. “Yes, of course, thank you, Matty.”
    Smiling, Matty collected the satchel from Ursula’s desk. She winked when she handed it to Ursula.
    â€œEnjoy the museum,” she said with a knowing look at Slater. “I’m sure the antiquities will be fascinating.”
    Ursula looked quite blank. Slater steered her out into the hall. He waited until they were seated in the carriage and headed toward the museum before he spoke.
    â€œAm I mistaken, or were Miss Bingham and Griffith looking at each other as if they were both interested in something a good deal more personal than the new typewriter?” he asked.
    Ursula was momentarily bewildered. “What are you talking about?”
    â€œNever mind,” he said. He searched for another neutral topic and abandoned the effort. He had never been much good at idle conversation. The experience on Fever Island and the career that he had pursued afterward had not improved his social skills. “What the devil is wrong with you, Ursula?”
    â€œPeople keep asking me that. I am perfectly fit.” She gripped the handle of her satchel very tightly.