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He could feel the buzz of energy in his fingers. The bet was back on; back to work tomorrow morning, and he was closer than ever to solving the Geis family's financial slump. With that, he could solve the mystery, but surely the two were closely related.
    After a moment, though, he realized that Mary wasn't only distracted, but hadn't heard him at all. After a long moment of silence she spoke.
    "That's absurd, though." She slumped to her knees and leaned against the frame of the door, looking at the far wall but not seeing it. "He didn't become sick until the 14th."

9
     
    Mary
     
    The hour that had passed after she'd taken the letter to Mr. Poole had been a blur. He had taken her to her room and made her promise to whelp him in the morning with his work. She thought that she had probably said yes, but it was hard to remember. Everything was swirling in her head, and it would take more time to figure out her feelings than it would to figure out what had happened.
    She was exhausted, she knew that much, but she didn't sleep. She laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to think about her situation.
    Up until now, it had seemed perfectly strange, and she had been assuming that danger might lurk around every corner. That feeling couldn't hold a candle to her feeling now, the absolute knowledge that danger had lurked for her father, and that it was more than likely to come for her as well.
    James thought there was something suspicious going on with the books; he'd said as much to her. Her father had brought him in, it seemed, to solve whatever the problem was that had ultimately lead to his death. It stood to reason that whatever it was, the finances would reveal it.
    That meant that, as much as she didn't want to deal with all of the numbers, she would have to make sure that he could do his job. If he said he needed her help with it, then she would help as much as she could.
    There was another reason—two reasons—that she wanted to keep him around, as well. He was a big man, powerful and tough, and he had experience in war. That much alone meant that he was useful to her. She was afraid for her life, afraid that at any moment some bogeyman would come to murder her.
    Having a big, tough man was infinitely preferable to being alone, especially this far outside of town. Her nearest neighbor was a kilometer in any given direction, and she was well and truly alone in the house. Outside of her new steward, that was.
    The second reason…she blushed and squelched the thought as quickly as it had arisen. She didn't have time for silly romantic notions, not now.
    She rolled over and tried to sleep once again. Taking long, slow breaths, she slipped eventually into a fitful sleep. When she woke again, it was with the sun.
     
    For a bachelor and a lawyer, Mary thought, James was not an incapable cook. That was the first surprise he'd given her that morning. She had scarcely awoken and dressed when a knock came at her door, and James met her with a platter full of food. They ate quietly.
    Mary noticed, now that they were sitting together, that he didn't look at her. It was odd, and a bit disappointing. He actually seemed to make a note of never glancing in her direction, and when he did it was only for a second before he turned back toward facing the wall or looking at his food.
    When she had finished, he took her plate from her, stacked it on the carrying tray, and carried the whole thing away, leaving her alone. Mary didn't know what to make of his behavior. Perhaps he thought she was particularly unattractive. More likely, he didn't know how to act around a Baron's daughter. It wasn't the first time that she'd experienced people being unsure how to act around her.
    Finally he came back and asked her to follow him to the study. As they walked he spoke. His voice was soft and he seemed to be trying to make apologetic motions, but they didn't fit him well. He was too self-sure, too intelligent, and too…
    Mary couldn't put her