Kate nodded, trying to keep the bemusement from her face. She had no idea where Christan was going with his comments, but she didn't much like Desmond. He seemed to have taken up Janson's vendetta against Lake, and most likely all of Janson's less appealing characteristics now that the man was no longer his leader. Lake, on the other hand, seemed like a nice enough man, if somewhat unlucky.

"Ever see a man hanged on a gibbet, Desmond? His eyes bulging, lips quivering, his last thoughts of his god and mama shown clearly on his face? Happened to Ronnie McTiernay for fighting old man Creeper, best Runner around. McTiernay barely had time to make out his will before they had him swinging. Creeper's a friend of mine. A good friend. No, a great friend."

Desmond shoved away from the table. "I've got my eyes on you, Black."

"Well, best get them off me. I have plenty better offers already."

Desmond shot him a disgusted look and slunk off to the darkened corners of the taproom.

Kate clutched her spoon. "Do you think it wise to make an enemy of him? After this is over, he may come after you."

Christian smirked. "I'd like to see him try."

"He could hurt you."

"Why, Kate, I didn't know you cared. Besides, if he tried anything, he'd be swinging before the week is out."

"Shhh!" She looked around wildly to see if anyone had caught his use of her name. Only Olivia, Francine, and Freewater were left in the room, the others having returned to their rooms or gone to the taproom. Christian kept sending irritated glances Freewater's way. "And you don't really believe your own tripe, do you? Next you'll be telling everyone you are a peer of the realm."

"The Earl of Canley, at your service." He gave a short bow, smirking the entire time.

She dropped her spoon and threw up her hands. "Fine. Let's get back to Julius Janson. What are we searching for, other than the weapon and the garment that may have produced the fabric swatch in his hand? How about where the murder was committed?"

His brows knit, the smirk fading from his face as easily as peeling the outer skin from an onion.

"Somewhere near the gallery most likely in order for someone to toss him over."

Kate nodded. "Why don't we quickly search the rooms on this floor and then the gallery. I saw him standing out there last night, and his room leads directly onto it. It makes the most sense."

Christian nodded and pushed away from the table, once again sending a look Freewater's way. "Hold on for a moment, Kate." He walked over to Freewater, and she followed in curiosity.

"Mr. Freewater, we finished searching your room. Do you mind turning out your pockets, so that we can eliminate you from our list of suspects?"

Freewater looked annoyed and huffed as he complied with the order. Kate watched with interest as the man's face went completely white while patting an inner pocket. "What? Where?"

The man became frantic, and Kate watched Christian's eyes narrow in speculation. "Have you lost something, Mr. Freewater?"

A bead of sweat ran down Freewater's forehead. "No, no. Here, here is what is in my pocket."

He held out a few pounds and a handkerchief. Christian made a point of examining the articles and then waved him off. "Thank you, Freewater. After seeing this, we may have further questions."

"Yes, yes, as you will." The man was already darting around the table and out of the room. Christian's face looked torn between frustration and glee, neither of which she understood.

He turned toward her. "Shall we?"

They searched the kitchen, storage rooms, and private dining areas, but didn't find anything interesting. The guests had started to return to their rooms, so Christian and Kate were surprised upon entering the upstairs gallery to see Nickford scraping at the railing.

"What are you doing, Mr. Nickford?"

"Gathering samples."

Christian and Kate exchanged glances. "Samples for what?" she asked.

"For my experiment."

"What experiment are you running?"

He scraped a few slivers into a small glass container. "I'm going to test to see if the spirits took Mr. Janson."

Kate gaped and could see Christian's eyebrows rise almost to his hairline. "The spirits?"

"Devilish things. They have been plaguing the inn for the last few days. Mr. Wicket said so. He said, 'Nickford, didn't you know, the spirits have been acting up?' I, of course, determined to discover what was happening. Poor Mrs. Wicket has had a hard time sleeping lately. Always up and about roaming around with the dead."

Kate would never have guessed Nickford could get any stranger.

"Er, wouldn't you be taking away her company then, by ridding the inn of the, um, spirits?"

Christian sent her an amused glance.

"No, no. The spirits are most likely calling to her. Get rid of them and she'll sleep peaceful-like again. Heard them calling last night, and then her up and roaming outside my room."

Kate frowned. "She was roaming outside your room last night."

"Oh yes. Heard a thud and a loud moan. Knew it had to be the spirits fussing with Mrs. Wicket again."

Christian and Kate exchanged glances, and Christian finally leaned forward to stop Nickford from gathering more "evidence."

"When did you hear this thud?"

"Round about half past two, I'd say."

"Did you look out your door?"

"No, already knew what it was, didn't I? But I set up a specter thingamajiggy. Should catch it tonight or tomorrow."

Christian nodded absently, but Nickford looked expectant.

"I'm sure you will catch it, Mr. Nickford," Kate said.

"Right good of you to say so, Mr. Kaden. Well, looks like I'm done here. Good evening."

Kate examined the spot on the railing as soon as Nickford disappeared. It had been scraped clean. Christian bent below and examined the slats.

"Look." He pointed to a spot on one of the slats.

Kate peered below and saw a darkened spot, as if blood had formed a small puddle there. "You think Nickford cleaned up the rest of the evidence? That these are bloodstains and this is the spot?"

She looked over the railing and saw that the snow below was slightly indented. Nothing too obvious, as the newly fallen flakes had covered the indentation. Still, it looked as if something might have landed there and been dragged away.

"The new trail Gordon made covered the tracks, but I'll bet that is where the body landed and was dragged."

"Nice work, Mr. Black." Kate gave him an admiring glance, a real one, and he smiled back, a real smile in return.

"Oh, I think we make a good team, Kate."

He didn't move toward her, but the air felt a bit warmer, as if his body had suddenly grown closer. The air pricked her exposed skin as warmth caressed her less exposed areas.

She stumbled back into the railing and nicked her hand on one of the splinters created by Nickford's tests. She jerked her hand away from the railing and was relieved to see the splintered edge was a few inches from the bloodstains.

"Kate?"

She waved him off and peered at her hand under the fading light. "Just a splinter from the rail."

"Here, allow me."

Before she could protest, Christian lifted her hand to inspect it. "Hmmm, looks like there is a sliver of wood in there. I should remove it."

And with that she could only watch in shock as he took the side of her hand into his mouth, which was hot and wet and indescribable. His tongue looped around the underside and a shiver racked her body as he gently began to suck.

Chapter 9.

Can't do a damn thing right, boy. Might as well replace you with one of the scullery servants. At least in the trade I would get a son with half a brain.

The Marquess of Penderdale to Christian, age ten F or Kate, splinter removal had always involved a needle and some painful poking. Who knew that all it took was a warm, talented mouth to get the job done?

Christian Black obviously had the right idea.

His teeth grazed the side of her palm, and she rose slightly onto her toes as her breath caught. Was that his tongue? What was he doing?

Heat shot through her body and her breath released in little pants as he continued to suck and lick and kiss the sensitive side of her hand. Unfamiliar sensations tingled across her skin and down her spine, spiraling somewhere near her middle.

Desire. She couldn't stop her head from tilting back or her mouth from falling open as he held her gaze and nipped her hand. His blue eyes, dark and intense, were unrelenting as he licked and sucked and bit. She felt desirable for the first time in so many long weeks.

What would it be like to kiss this man?

Somehow her pinkie ended up in his mouth and she couldn't withhold a moan as he slowly withdrew it with a pop.

He leaned forward, pressing her against the wood railing, his unshaved jaw lightly brushing her smooth cheek. He buried his head in her hair. He smelled like cinnamon.

He leaned back and removed something from his tongue. He winked as he held up the splinter and then flicked it over the railing. Before she could regain her thoughts, he spun her around, reversing their positions, so he was leaning back against the rail and she was nestled against him.

"Wouldn't want you to get a splinter in a more delicate location, Kate." His face was full of supreme male self-satisfaction. She didn't have the presence of mind to say anything witty in return.

He pulled her body closer, and the heat curled in her middle moved farther south. His mouth was a hairsbreadth away from her own.

"Unless of course, you want me to remove another splinter? I would be happy to chase them all over your body."

His voice was husky; his warm cinnamon breath caressed her lips as his hovered millimeters over hers.

"I..."

Her eyes were focused on his lips, waiting for them to connect with hers, but they curled upward instead.

He pushed away from the rail, hot and hard against her. His lips brushed the lobe of her good ear. "Perhaps later, then? Hmmm?"

"Perhaps," she whispered, her mouth developing a mind of its own.

"Excellent." His jaw brushed against her cheek again and he straightened. "Come. While Nickford is downstairs, let's search his room."

Kate nodded, trying to organize her muddled thoughts. A thread of delight filtered through her. He wanted her. Poor, damaged Kate.

Her temporary delight shriveled back to the shadows. He had no idea that she was scarred, and when he did, how would he express his revulsion? Connor had treated her well until she had removed her head covering. After she had removed it, things...things hadn't gone so well.

Christian tugged her hand, releasing it as they entered the common room.

For emotional survival, Kate had to keep the relationship with Christian strictly geared toward the investigation. No more personal involvement or physical innuendos.

She couldn't afford the rejection.

For whatever reason, whether it was the hazardous situation, the high possibility for rejection, or just Christian himself, seductive and worldly, Kate felt more was at stake than with any previous suitor or flirtation. Her feelings were more intense toward Christian Black than she had ever felt toward another.

She couldn't let him hurt her. She would reject him first.

Christian inserted the key in the lock and they stepped inside Nickford's room. It was in chaos, just as it had been the night before. A mountain of clothes was heaped across a chair. Empty dishes and leftover food were stacked on a table. Journals and equipment littered the makeshift workspaces and bed. The pallet sat innocuously on the floor.

She nervously touched the knotty wood wall. As soon as he made a move toward her, she would reject him. It was for the best. No matter that her body screamed otherwise. No matter that a tendril of happiness had been stirred, the first in so long.

She waited as Christian started flipping through journals. Wasn't he going to continue his seduction? He had said later, but she didn't think he was the type to employ self-control. Any minute now he would make his move.

She had known the man for merely two days, and there was little evidence to prove he wasn't the scoundrel ninety percent of his gestures claimed him.

He stepped in front of you, guarded you in the taproom fight.

She scoffed. He would have done it for Daisy.

But doesn't that mean he isn't a complete scoundrel?

It meant he looked out for his own interests. He was probably waiting to make a final move on her, deliberately laying the groundwork piece by piece to keep her off balance.

Or maybe he isn't quite as interested in you as you are in him.

She grudgingly admitted that her feminine side most definitely wanted his attention. Christian was a very handsome and charming man. Dashing. Most women would feel flattered to be the center of his focus. But that was just it. He was the type of man to concentrate intensely on one woman, only to drop her and be off as soon as his attention wavered to the next bit of muslin. Or as soon as he saw her scars.