More selfishly, what would be the repercussions if people found out I worked for Moran, knew what he published, and said nothing? Those questions needed to be pondered. I couldn’t truly afford to quit at this juncture, even if I was offended, which I wasn’t. On the contrary, the story thus far had played into my own imaginings with Ash and Moran and me.
An all-out inferno of shame continued to dog me. Moran had acquired the book, hence the subject matter couldn’t offend him. Perhaps he was like the two men in the book. Since leaving the protection of my father’s house, I had been exposed to more than most ladies of my station. My former landlord had kept company with loose women, and had been fond of walking around half-clothed. Of course he couldn’t hold a candle to Moran with his taut belly and muscular arms, or Ash with his strong frame.
He and Ash were close friends and carried on a lively back and forth. Rather like a flirtation. Could the two of them be like Golden and Knight? And if so, would I ever dare to be their Lady X?
Chapter Twenty
Lord Tobias Moran
The restaurant at the Stratham Hotel was packed full of patrons, the savory scent of food turning my nervous stomach. I hated being uncomfortable and courting a woman made me uncomfortable. Mrs. Ashton had been the one to introduce me to Elizabeth, and for a time, I was content. Until she left me for the colonel, who was the third son of a squire. I hadn’t taken Elizabeth for the social climbing sort. Apparently, I had been wrong.
I followed the concierge as he weaved through the tables and cursed my lateness. Mrs. Worth had distracted me. Again. Even thinking about her made me feel guilty, a very odd reaction, but there it was. She was my employee, not my love interest. I prayed the Engel cousins were agreeable sorts for Ash’s sake and mine. Like me, he needed to move on.
“Your party is in here.” The concierge led me into a smaller dining room lined with polished wood. Tall urns full of vivid green ferns reminiscent of Birdie’s eyes created an inviting atmosphere. Not Birdie, but Mrs. Worth, and she had no place in my thoughts. I was on the hunt for a wife, and I needed to stay focused.
Situated against the far wall were a row of private booths separated by curtains. The concierge led me past a booth whose curtains were partially open. My gaze locked on the man sittingat the table, and hate burned a hole in my stomach. Uncle Nigel’s eyes widened before he turned his head to look at his companion, giving me the cut direct. I curled my hands into fists, uncaring if the old prat hated me or not. The feeling was mutual. His companion inflamed me more. Reverend Brown, Jonah Stark’s grandfather and the head of the Brown Foundation, was dining with Nigel. Two closed-minded men who I hoped would burn in hell together.
My earlier good humor faded, which didn’t bode well for the luncheon. A woman being courted wanted someone engaging, not an enraged man hyper aware of the man who had single-handedly upended his father’s life because he was bitter that my mother had dared to pick my father over the duke. I wanted to confront my uncle, yet knew the folly of it. The past had to stay in the past for everyone’s sake.
Familiar laughter sounded before I spied Connie sitting at the head of the table, Ash and one lady were situated to her right, another lady at her left. While one was a blonde and the other a brunette, they had similar features. Of course they were cousins thus it made sense. If I had any chance of a future, I would forget my uncle and concentrate on my purpose for being there, to meet a prospective bride. I approached the table and the entire party turned their attention to me.
“Beg pardon, I am sorry I am late.” I hated being tardy on most occasions, but time often got away from me. It was a weakness of character on my part, but in my defense, I couldn’t very well meet a prospective bride with cat hair on my coat. Thank goodness Birdie had noticed. The rattling part was that I noticed Birdie a bit too much.
“Apology accepted.” Connie indicated I should sit next to the blonde—I assumed she was Mrs. Engel—and across from Ash and her cousin, another pretty and eligible woman. Since I was eleven, Connie had been like family to me. Ash had her eyesand coloring. Tall and plump, she had a kind air about her. “I was explaining to Mrs. Engel that you have a thriving publishing business,” Connie said.
“I am very excited to hear all about it,” Mrs. Engel smiled at me. A light of interest brightened her gaze, which boded well for the luncheon.
I nodded to Ash and tried to ignore my uncle for the moment. Not even Ash knew my family’s identity, and I wanted to keep it that way. His disdain for the aristocracy matched my own, both of us for different yet legitimate reasons.
“Moran, allow me to introduce Mrs. Engel and Miss Collin.” Connie nodded to each lady in turn. I offered a bow as was proper. Like Mrs. Engel, Miss Collin was fashionably attired in a grey dress with a high neckline. Unlike Mrs. Worth, neither was blessed with a plump bosom. Not that it should matter. I was looking for a practical wife with a sharp mind, which would trump any physical attraction.
“Mr. Ashton was just regaling us with his adventures at the Met.” Miss Collin stared at Ash with overt admiration. No doubt the ladies would consider his profession romantic despite the fact that he dealt with criminals all day. It was also dangerous, a constant worry for me.
I smiled in response, determined to engage with her, despite my continued awareness of my uncle’s presence in the same room, something that hadn’t happened in almost twenty years. I rarely dined in proper restaurants, preferring to eat at Ash’s house, or at the local pub down the street, places my uncle would never visit.
A waiter appeared and introduced himself before reading off the specials. I chanced another glance at Mrs. Engel, taking in the smooth line of her jaw. She smelled vaguely of flowers, not an unpleasant fragrance. Birdie’s citrus perfume carried a more enticing scent.Stop thinking about Mrs. Worth. I stared at thewaiter, glad when he poured me a glass of red wine. With a nod, he handed the bottle to an omnibus boy standing discreetly off to the side.
“Inspector Ashton, please finish your tale.” Miss Collin laid her hand on his sleeve and fluttered her lashes coyly.
Ash merely offered a charming smile at the gesture. He had a way of wooing women that I envied. From what he had indicated, Mrs. Worth also thought he was charming, not a big surprise. Nor was the jealousy I felt just thinking about the two of them together without me. In a perfect world, I could take them both to bed. I stifled a laugh. Birdie would probably punch me for even suggesting something so outrageous. Not that I would, given our agreement to keep things on a professional keel after she saw me half-naked. Granted, she hadn’t turned away, which meant she wasn’t averse to me as a man.
“And for you, monsieur?” The waiter asked in a heavy French accent, his dark hair combed away from his forehead.
Caught woolgathering, I looked at Ash for assistance.
