“Who the devil is that?”
“Nobody. She’s not real, love.” Goldie turned back to Caroline. “That reminds me. I wrote these ideas down for you after the art exhibit last night.” She handed a piece of paper over, and Caroline could not have felt more grateful for her sister-in-law for what she saw.
The art exhibit had been a fundraiser for one of London’s largest hospitals and Reed had made a generous donation. Along with notes about the exhibit were a few other tidbits of Mayfair gossip.
The list was exactly what Caroline needed.
“Let’s leave your sister alone so she can dress.” Goldie steered Reed toward the door, sending Caroline a wink from over her shoulder. “I’ll be shopping this morning on Bond Street, but come to Rutherford Place this afternoon if you need more information.”
“Thank you!” Caroline, realizing she wore nothing but her chemise from the day before, belatedly clutched the sheet to her chest. But it didn’t really matter. Not with Goldie and Reed.
Once the door closed behind her unexpected early morning visitors, Caroline threw the drapes open wide and sat down to read the list more carefully. She’d heard some of the gossip herself, but a good portion of it was new. Still, before she wrote any of it for the Gazette, she was determined to find some evidence to lend the stories more substance.
The door opened again, but this time it was Eloisa who entered. The maid set the tray of tea she carried on the bureau and asked, “Shall I have a bath prepared?”
So much sunlight filtered inside that Caroline had no doubt she’d slept past noon. She had work to do but… a bath was not a horrible idea.
“Yes, please,” she answered. More and more, she was coming to appreciate the benefits of having a lady’s maid. “If it’s not too much trouble. I think I’d like to wear my indigo day dress.” It was prettier than the gowns she’d worn to work thus far but she wanted to look pretty—something she’d never really cared about before.
“That won’t be any trouble, my lady.”
The maid disappeared, leaving Caroline alone with her thoughts—finally. And a smile danced on her mouth. Because she wasn’t thinking about articles, or galleys, or protecting her brother. No, she was thinking about Maxwell Black.
And she was infatuated.
WORTH WAITING FOR
Max had dropped her off at her mother’s house around five in the morning. Right after that, he’d gone home, changed, saddled his horse, and then met his associates at Rotten Row. And for the first time in a very long time, he wasn’t badgered about errors in the Gazette.
Following that, and then a few hours of sleep, Max returned to the newspaper offices.
And that was when his day took a turn for the worse.
With the offending note tucked safely into the pocket inside his jacket, he hailed a hackney and gave the directions to Caroline’s mother’s townhouse.
He couldn’t risk waiting until she came into the offices. It would be too risky.
So when the driver pulled to a halt, Max wasted no time, tossing the driver a few coins and jumping down to the pavement. Just before he went to knock, however, the door opened.
“Standish,” he said.
“Helton,” the other man answered.
Max was tempted to show the note to her brother, her legal protector, but refrained from doing so. He didn’t exactly blame Caroline’s older brother for his animosity, but he didn’t trust the man, either. And Caroline had come to help him. She’d made herself an integral part of his staff, and more.
She deserved to see it first.
Lady Standish appeared behind her husband, smiling as the door closed. When she caught sight of Max, the petite blonde froze, but recovered immediately. “Good afternoon, my lord,” she said as she dropped into a shallow curtsey.
Was it afternoon? Max made an equally perfunctory bow and then glanced at his fob watch.
“Business this side of town?” Standish showed none of the manners of his wife.
“Perhaps.” Max’s answer was curt, but then he reminded himself that Standish was, in addition to being a murder suspect, also Caroline’s older brother.
Max, who’d grown up with no siblings of his own, nonetheless acknowledged the other’s man’s right to question Max’s appearance on his mother and sister’s doorstep.
“Business and pleasure,” he provided. “Your mother and sisters are delightful ladies.”
