She nodded. “Charlotte. And ’tis Althea and Beth. I am ever so grateful for your time. Please accept this as a token of my thanks. ’Tis a few products from my store that will appear in Bath to complement the shampoo scent you selected, and a pen and ink set that is the highest quality I’ve ever seen. Those are from Emily Anders, and I’ve asked for inventory to stock in London, as I feel sure they will sell well here.”
“Oh. The Bath shop is also owned by a woman, eh? I love that so much.”
“I thought you might.” Althea could not stop smiling.
“Right, let me see your projections then.”
Althea handed over her marketing packet, and Charlotte perused the documents for a few moments. Althea was impressed by the speed at which she flicked through them.
After an agonizing few minutes, Charlotte sat back, dropping the papers to her lap. Her face was inscrutable.
Althea braced for questions or, worse, a rejection.
“My word, I am quite certain we can take care of this whole thing, almost without a man in sight. Sadly, I have not yet found a woman solicitor. But never mind, that too shall come.” Charlotte’s grin was ear to ear.
Beth clapped once but subsided at a quelling look from Althea.
“Right, then.” Althea permitted herself a small smile to answer that of her hostess. Then she squared her shoulders and accepted a cup of tea. “Here are the terms I would like…”
****
Evan had been in high dudgeon leaving the soirée. He’d gone to Ford’s townhouse, where his friend watched and poured whisky as Evan paced and railed. After two drinks, Ford had talked Evan down to where he could at least see how his words in Bath could have been misconstrued.
Once calmer, Evan could see that. But he could still envision a scenario in which Althea had staged the entire thing or one in which she took advantage once he had opened the door. Or one in which she became complacent in their arrangement and believed he would gift the money rather than invest it with the expectation of a return.
After only three days, he was making himself crazy with his imaginings interspersed with his craving for Althea. He invited Ford to accompany him home to catch up on correspondence and visit his mother.
At Greenborough Park, he was faced with the letter from his solicitor he’d received last visit. He’d left it out on his desk to remind himself that this too was a problem he needed to address. Upon seeing it, he was thrown back into frustration at Althea’s presumptions.
To think I’d considered marrying her.
Franklin, the ever-amenable footman, made himself conspicuous with errands into Evan’s study, bending for things he’d dropped, clearly having had his uniform tailored to be more form-fitting than it had been designed. Evan suspected the young man thought he could help Evan fuck the bad mood right out.
Despite the man’s tight buttocks, broad shoulders, and extraordinary calves, Evan could not even coax a pulse out of his cock at the thought of sex with Franklin. No, the form his cock wanted was taller, thinner, and softer, with breasts tipped in raspberry and a wet, delicious center.
Althea.
He replayed the soirée over and over. His white-hot fury at her question, her assumptions. His spate of angry words and ridicule. Her attempt to explain.
Could Ford be right? Could it be a simple misunderstanding? Did Althea meet with Charlotte the next day? Did she follow up with any of the other investors or had he inadvertently interfered with her expansion endeavors?
Even if she had been after his money, Evan rarely lost his temper. Every time he remembered his diatribe, he cringed. He wanted Althea to be successful. Hell, he still wanted her in his bed. He owed her an apology at the very least, but he was unable to put aside his doubts.
Ignoring Franklin’s unsubtle overtures, Evan vacated the house to ride the estate whenever the weather allowed, ending each outing with a visit to the dower house. In addition to wanting time with his mother while he could, he needed the reminder of his future.
On the occasions his mother napped or was not present mentally when he visited, he made small talk with the nurse. Often, he brought the subject around to how she knew Beth and Althea and talked about his own relationship with them, which quickly narrowed to discussing Althea.
On his last day there, she handed him a letter sealed with his own mark in the wax. The Cheltenham seal. Frowning, he looked at her.
“Lucy told me that shortly after she’d arrived, she suggested your mother write you a letter. She’d found in past experience it helped the patient’s family once communication had tapered off. I love the idea. I shall use it in the future.”
Evan’s lips twisted at the reminder that his mother would not be her patient forever. But the realist in him accepted that.
“Lucy said that your mother had asked we give it to you when you needed it the most. While I am sure there will be more difficult times ahead with your mother, need can be sparked by struggles beyond that. I think now is as good a time as any. But open it when you are ready.”
****
Althea remained despondent despite having won funding. On Tuesday, Beth surprised her by announcing that she had traded days with another instructor, and they were due at Mansfield House, where Penelope and Michael lived, in two hours. Only the promise of testing some new pastries Penelope was considering for her bakery drew Althea out. She was not in the mood to be social, and she’d only met Beth’s school friend twice.
