Helena grimaced. Jo made a sound of disapproval. “Decker.”
“What?” He grinned at his wife. “Do you think any friend of yours could be offended by plain speech,bijou? I dare say not.”
Mr. Decker had a sweet sobriquet for Jo. Envy speared her. Oh, to have that love, that devotion from her own husband.
Then again, Gabe did have a pet name for her, on the odd occasion. Though she could not entirely be certainhellionwas a term of endearment.
“I am not offended in the slightest,” she hastened to reassure Jo and Mr. Decker both. “And I could not agree with your assessment of Lord Algernon more, Mr. Decker. Why do you suppose he would bluff about going to the scandal mongers with his story?”
Mr. Decker quirked a dark brow, and Helena had to admit he was a ridiculously handsome fellow. Charming as well. She could see the allure he had presented for her friend, and she was more than pleased to see the manner in which he treated Jo, the easiness between them. Even if it was what she so desperately wanted for herself with her own husband.
“Call it a hunch, Lady Huntingdon. I wish to do some reconnaissance on the matter, but I will loan you the thousand pounds for your afternoon meeting with the arse, as you wish.”
His easy acquiescence had her on edge, nonetheless. “What manner of reconnaissance, Mr. Decker?”
“Leave that to me, my dear. I must insist it, as a stipulation of my loan, if you will.” He flashed her a rake’s grin. “I shall have a man deliver your funds by noon. But now, if you do not mind terribly, my dear Lady Huntingdon, there is a matter of grave import that I must imminently discuss with my lovely wife.”
Helena thought she knew what manner ofdiscussionhe required.
Jo’s pretty flush confirmed her suspicion. “Decker,” she chastised without heat. “You are incorrigible.”
He turned his charm upon his wife. “Always, my love. Have I neglected to mention I brought your favorite strawberry cream ice?”
Her color heightened. “You certainly could have mentioned it sooner.”
As husband and wife became lost in each other’s eyes, Helena took her cue to leave.
She rose from her seat, shaking out her skirts. “Thank you for the tea and company, and for your willingness to offer me aid. I cannot express enough gratitude to either of you.”
“Anything for you, any time you ask, Helena,” Jo vowed. “I cannot forsake a fellow sister of the Lady’s Suffrage Society, nor a friend as dear as you.”
Mr. Decker winked. “And make no mistake about it, I will be more than happy in the knowledge that the Earl of Huntingdon shall owe me a favor.”
Gabe tried tosuppress his mounting irritation as the hulking Scotsman who had directed him to the small anteroom in the offices of Mr. Elijah Decker finally returned. He had spent nothing short of the last quarter hour pacing the floorboards, and his patience was not just thin; it was thoroughly decimated.
“A tart?” asked the Scotsman.
Gabe blinked at him, certain he had misheard. “I beg your pardon?”
“Ye have the look of someone in need of sweets, m’lord,” the man elaborated. “Would ye care for a tart? Mayhap a wee pudding?”
Was the man daft?
“Do you offer the dessert course to every caller of Mr. Decker’s?” he demanded, quite rudely, he was aware. “Or am I alone in the dubious honor?”
But ever since his conversation with Helena the evening before, he had been on edge. The combination of his worry over whatever had been troubling her and the revelations he had made to her had been gnawing at him. He did not possess the requisite calm to entertain the whims of a cheeky, flame-haired giant.
“Dinna fash yerself,” said the Scotsman. “My dear, puir mother, saints preserve her, always said that when a man looks as if he could spit nails, ye ought tae offer him a balance.”
Huntingdon stared at the Scotsman. “Haveyou any tarts?”
The man grinned. “Nay.”
“Pudding, then?”
The Scotsman shook his head. “Nor puddings.”
Gabe ground his jaw, exasperation mingling with impatience. “If you are in possession of neither tarts nor puddings, why offer them, sir?”
