“I propose the following. You return to your lodgings—you do have lodgings, do you not?”
To his relief, she nodded. Good. If that hadn’t been the case, he’d have felt obligated to offer her lodgings in his own residence, for he had space aplenty. But knowing she was a woman, it simply wasn’t the thing to do. Reputation and all that. Not that he cared too much about it, but he had been raised a gentleman. He wondered fleetingly whether her reputation wasn’t already hopelessly jeopardised, since she paraded about as a man, and was now, for all men to see, in White’s. Did she not care at all about it? But what did he know? She was right. It wasn’t any of his business. Yet, here he was, offering his assistance. No doubt he was an idiot to inveigle himself in her problems.
“Return to your lodgings and have a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow you go to the East India House to enquire whether this Marcus Smith appears in their records. And if he isn’t there, how about lawyers? Banks? Someone must have a record of his guardianship over you.”
Pen slapped her forehead. “Yes! Of course! Why didn’t I think of it myself? I’m so stupid!” Relief washed over her face. “Of course he’d be at the East India House! And if he’s not, they’d have records. That’s a fantastic idea, my lord.”
“My friends call me Archie.”
She gaped at him.
“And you are Pen.”
“I—I can’t call you Archie!” A streak of red crossed her cheeks. “We’re not friends.”
Under normal circumstances, he’d have gladly agreed. He tended to keep his acquaintances on the superficial side. But the devil in him prompted to reply: “Are we not?”
Her flush deepened. “You barely know me.”
“Very true. Who are you, Pen Kumari?”
She tugged on her ear and shrugged. “I can’t call you Archie,” she repeated instead of answering his question.
“Archie is better than Archibald, the unfortunate name my parents insisted on bestowing upon me. Though, you can call me Alworth if you must. And do you prefer I call you Kumari, instead of Pen?” He suppressed a grin. Princess. Damsel. It suited her.
“Pen is fine,” she said hastily.
“Well then. Now that things are settled as to how we address each other, I daresay I will meet you here tomorrow at the same time and await your report. And if there is anything you need, anything at all, here is my card.” He handed her his card, which she took after some hesitation.
He got up and slapped her on the back. She hadn’t expected the slap, so she fell forward and caught herself before staggering into the already mistreated Philodendron.
Alworth flashed his teeth at her.
Pen visibly struggled with herself. “Yes sir. My lord. Archibald. Archie.” She cleared her throat. “Alworth. Thank you.”
He nodded. “Oh, and Pen. Very bad trick that you played in the Hindoostanee Cafe. That curry you made me eat was from hell’s kitchen. I saw stars for a good five minutes. I should call you out for it.”
She looked at him with innocent eyes. “Oh. Did you think that was spicy?”
“Go to blazes, Pen,” he said peacefully.
