The Arnifour Affair by Gregory Harris Page B

We shan’t be but a minute or two.”
    â€œYou will excuse me.” I stood up and gave what I feared was a pained smile, as surprised as our guest by this unexpected turn of events.
    I hurried to the bedroom and found Colin rooting through the top drawer of the dresser. “Prepare to spend a night or two,” he said as he flung undergarments onto the bed. “If she’s coming around I’ll not come back until we’ve had the chance to speak with her. I don’t trust that house of rogues.”
    â€œHouse of rogues?!” I chuckled as I pulled a valise from under the bed. “Now you sound like Mrs. Behmoth.”
    â€œYou’re forgetting that someone there would almost certainly prefer to see her dead, and at this point it’s rather impossible to tell who might be her friend and who her foe.” He tossed me an arch look as he withdrew a small double-barreled derringer from the dresser.
    â€œYou’re bringing a gun?”
    â€œI’d bring three if I could get you to carry one.”
    I screwed up my face, the memory of once having had a derringer prodded against my ribs during a soured opium transaction causing me to shiver. Even that had not led me to forsake the drug, which is why I suppose the memory retains its ability to provoke such a reaction from me. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” I tried my best to sound glib. “It’s the estate of nobles. They’re not all beyond redemption.”
    â€œAnd are you prepared to decide who is and who is not?” He eyed me as he stuffed the little gun into his boot. “Who is it you find trustworthy?”
    â€œWhat about Lady Arnifour? She hired us after all.”
    He waved a dismissive hand as he went over to the holster hanging from the headboard on his side of the bed. “I’d bet she hasn’t given a whit about her husband since she conceived their daughter, and they were both probably well plied with alcohol at the time. The only person our dear patroness seems to even remotely care about is Victor Heffernan, and even that impression is probably hysterically generous.”
    â€œWell, you have to admit that he seems kind and loyal.”
    â€œA dog is kind and loyal,” he grunted. He pulled a Colt revolver from the holster and stuffed it into his waistband, yanking his overcoat closed atop it. “Of course her husband was clearly a scurrilous man who had more dalliances with other women than his own wife. But then that is what those chaps do.”
    â€œYour father didn’t.”
    He leveled a frown on me. “The Pendragons are a cut above. Besides, my mother died too young. He didn’t have the chance. Are you ready?” He headed for the door.
    â€œReady?! I’ve hardly begun. And all you’ve done is throw a few things on the bed and litter yourself with guns. I’d say you’re not ready, either.”
    He shrugged. “I’ve got what I want. Throw in whatever else you think I might need.”
    â€œFine.”
    I heard him beckon from the front of the flat as I stuffed the last few things into the valise and tucked it under my arm. “On my way!”
    It would be nice to come back to this room and have the worst of this case behind us or even solved. My eyes raked over Colin’s empty holster and I felt that familiar knot clutch at my stomach. How I hoped we would return with his guns unneeded. I turned down the lamp on the dresser and headed out.

CHAPTER 14
    T he evening was cold enough to make the ride in the open buckboard uncomfortable. Even so, Colin appeared oblivious to the wind’s chilling fingers as they sliced across the exposed flesh of his face. The fire in his eyes seemed to be heating the whole of his body so that he wasn’t even bothering with the scarf Mrs. Behmoth had pressed on him on our way out. In contrast, I was well wrapped in mine and noticed Nathaniel repeatedly yanking his