“You have voiced concerns over rumors affecting your business.”
“Yes. And those haven’t changed.” She looked down at their still-joined hands, then back up at him. “I was wondering…if you came to London and kept a low profile, I could give you a key to the back door of my house?”
“Ah, so I shall be your dirty little secret?” What was he saying? And why did he feel hurt at her offer? ’Twas the perfect opportunity to extend their relationship with no commitment. He mentally rolled his eyes at his mawkishness.
Her lower lip jutted out. “No. Well, yes. I guess so. I’d come to you, but ’tis so much harder for women to roam about undetected and so much higher risk if we’re caught. You know this.”
“I do.” He rallied his emotions. “I was teasing you. We can do that for a little while and see how it goes. I must go to Greenborough Park, though, at least for a sennight.”
“Oh.” He could not help his thrill at the disappointment in her voice, particularly after being told he’d have to sneak around because she didn’t want to be seen with him.
“And eventually, I will have to be visible in London. I have investments to maintain, and relationships, Parliamentary and otherwise, to nurture.”
She frowned.
“Not sexual ones, my sweet. I assure you our exchanges take all my focus.”
She mumbled under her breath and appeared worried, but the maid was finished packing and they needed to start their day.
Evan gestured and Althea stood, providing a modicum of a shield from the maid as he pulled his clothes on to return to his room and see to his own packing.
As they said their good-byes and he saw the ladies into their London-bound carriage, he reminded himself that a short casual affair could hurt Althea’s business but was no skin off his nose. Why, then, was he still irked by her request for secrecy?
****
As Ford snoozed against the squabs across from him, Evan stared out the window and pondered Althea’s need for money, balanced with their relationship. Despite hours of cogitations, he was no closer to a solution when they arrived at his estate.
It was late enough that he did not want to disturb his mother, so he sent a note to Nancy that he’d visit in the morning, and he and Ford settled in the library with a cold supper and whisky.
Trying to avoid rehashing his thoughts from the drive, Evan opened his mouth to heckle Robert about Beth, only to have Robert beat him to it.
“Will you see the lovely widow Egerton again?”
Evan narrowed his eyes at his friend but carefully kept his relaxed countenance, one elbow leaning on the chair arm, legs crossed with one swinging. “Will you see the bubbly Miss Jenkins again?”
“Eh.” Ford shrugged one shoulder. “I wouldn’t say no, but that girl has a mind of her own, so ’twill be her choice.”
“Ford, we’ve been over this. You know you have much to give, right, old chap?”
Another hitch of the shoulder was his only reply.
“And any woman, titled or no, would be lucky to have you?”
Robert nodded but would not meeting his eyes.
“Beth seems particularly suited to you,” Evan persisted, “as she cares little for the Ton’s unending rules.”
Ford mumbled something into his glass as he sipped whisky.
Evan raised his brows. “What was that?”
“She’s rather high profile, ain’t she?”
Ah. And therein lies the rub. Shakespeare aside, Evan pondered. “Why d’you think that is?”
A mumbled, “Dunno.”
“Her connections are unparalleled. And you know that is high praise from me, given my own. But hers are quieter and include working class networks. I don’t think that is it.” The parallels between Ford’s and Althea’s concerns were undeniable, and Evan suspected the reasons were similar.
