Deception by Amanda Quick Page A

put one in mind of a pirate.”
    Jared’s mouth curved. “I am glad that you are able to look beneath the surface, Miss Wingfield.”
    “Aunt Sophy and Aunt Ida taught me not to judge by appearances.”
    An enigmatic expression lit Jared’s gaze. “I hope you will not be disappointed by the man you discover beneath the pirate’s face.”
    “Oh, no,” Olympia whispered. “I could not possibly be disappointed, sir.”
      The following evening Olympia sat at her desk and contemplated Jared’s hair. The heavy, midnight black stuff was brushed back behind his ears and reached his collar. There was no question but that the style was unfashionable and that it contributed to Jared’s rather savage appearance. But Olympia did not care. All she wanted to do was run her fingers through it.
    Never in her life had she wanted to run her fingers through a man’s hair.
    Jared was sitting in an armchair in front of the fire, his booted feet stretched out in front of him. He was reading a book that he had selected from a nearby shelf.
    The glow from the hearth etched his already stern features into even harsher lines. He had discarded his coat after dinner. Olympia had grown accustomed to the lack of a cravat but she found it almost overwhelming to be in the same room with Jared when he was in his shirtsleeves.
    The disturbing sense of intimacy made her feel lightheaded. Whispering shivers of awareness coursed through her. She could not help but wonder if Jared was feeling anything at all other than tired after a long day.
    It was nearly midnight but he still showed no signs of taking his leave. Mrs. Bird had retreated to her room after dinner. Ethan, Hugh, and Robert had gone to bed hours ago. Minotaur had been banished to the kitchen.
    Olympia was alone with Jared and she was consumedwith a strange, unfamiliar restlessness. The feelings had been increasing in intensity every night since Jared’s arrival. As far as she could tell, he was not uncomfortable at all with these intimate evenings together in the library.
    Olympia had a sudden urge to talk to him. She hesitated and then closed the Lightbourne diary with a loud snap.
    Jared looked up from his book and smiled quizzically. “Making progress, Miss Wingfield?”
    “I believe so,” Olympia said. “Most of the entries are quite prosaic. On the surface, it’s merely a journal of daily events. It appears to cover the period of Miss Lightbourne’s engagement and the first few months of her marriage to a man named Mr. Ryder.”
    Jared’s gaze was enigmatic. “Mr. Ryder?”
    “She seems very happy with him.” Olympia smiled wistfully. “She calls him her ‘beloved Mr. Ryder.’”
    “I see.”
    “In fact, that’s the only way in which she refers to him, even though he’s her husband. Rather odd, but there you have it. She must have been a very proper sort of lady.”
    “So it would seem.” There was an odd note in Jared’s voice. He sounded almost relieved.
    “As I said, for the most part the journal appears quite ordinary, except for the fact that it is written in a combination of English, Latin, and Greek. But every few pages I come across an odd series of numbers mixed in with a phrase that seems to make little sense. I believe those numbers and words are the clues for which I am searching.”
    “It sounds rather complicated but I suppose that is the way with codes.”
    “Yes.” Olympia detected the lack of interest in his tone. She knew she should change the subject.
    She was beginning to realize that, for some reason, the mystery of the Lightbourne diary held no intellectual appeal for Jared. In fact, he appeared to be positively bored by it. She was rather disappointed because she would have liked very much to discuss her discoveries with him.
    Still, she could hardly complain if he wished to avoid that one topic, Olympia thought. Jared was, after all, more than happy to converse about virtually any other matter.
    “You are at ease with Latin and