“Oh. Of course.” She poured a cup with trembling fingers and handed it to him.
She forced herself to ask again. To push. “So... will you?”
His focus lingered on her face. “I will think about it. In the meanwhile, you can do something for me.”
She was instantly on her guard.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Do you know who Selina Newport is?”
Rebecca weighed the question for a trap. Finding none, she said, “I know who she is, yes.”
“Ask her to come and see me. Apparently, Sergeant George will let in any attractive female.”
She shook her head. “He won’t allow it.”
“You leave the sergeant to me. He is in my employ, after all, and not the other way around.”
Not wanting to refuse and harm their chances, she said, “I will give her your message. How she responds is up to her.”
Those thick lips puckered into a smug smile. “Oh, she’ll come to me all right. Of that I have no doubt.”
Would she? Why would a beautiful woman like Miss Newport, who had clearly caught Thomas Wilford’s eye, be interested in an older, unpleasant man like Ambrose Oliver? Did he hold some power over her?
Mr. Oliver sat back down. “Leave youropuson the table and close the door on your way out.”
“Yes, sir.” Unsettled, Rebecca set down the prized manuscript and opened the door, darting back to pick up an armfulof dirty laundry. She didn’t see any used dishes except a coffee cup, but swiped that up too. Then she let herself from the room, head low. She swept past Mr. George without looking at him and hurried away, intending to go the long way around, so he would not see which room she was heading for.
“Are you all right?” he called after her. “Did he ... bother you?”
Without pausing, she shook her head and continued past the main stairs and railing that overlooked the hall below.
From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a tall man standing near the hotel entrance and glanced down, only to immediately wish she had not. Robb Tarvin stood there, no doubt awaiting the arrival of a guest who’d reserved his fly.
He looked up at that very moment.
She turned her head toward the opposite wall and hurried around the corner and out of view, hoping against hope that he had not seen her.
Mary was waiting for her beside her door. Together they stepped inside.
“How did it go?” Mary whispered eagerly. “Everything all right?”
“I think so.” To herself, Rebecca added,I pray so. Hands still trembling, she handed over the dirty laundry and coffee cup. “I did not see another tray.”
“Oh, that’s right. He rang for a second pot of coffee yesterday, and I picked it up then.”
Rebecca pulled the cap from her head and untied the apron.
“I’ll pick those up later,” Mary said. “I’ve got to get on now.”
Rebecca nodded and laid a hand on the girl’s arm. “Thank you, Mary. I am indebted to you.”
“How could I not help? You’re the one who gave me a chancewhen I needed a place—me with no experience and my family being what it was. And you who wrote that fine character that got me another place at the Griffiths’ and eventually here.”
How glad Rebecca was that she had done so. “I did that because I believed you capable, not to get anything in return.”
“I know. Even so, I couldn’t say no to you now, could I?”
Rebecca stilled, fear curdling inside her. She hoped neither of them would live to regret what she had just done.
