After going over it with her brother’s solicitors and eager to move matters forward, Lydia had signed the contract and sent it back the very next day—via messenger as well.
In addition to the contract, Jeremy sent over an ambitious timeline, as well as his preferred contractors. She’d written back that she would like to discuss a few items, but again, two days had since passed without a response.
And he had not once indicated how Ollie was doing in any of them.
Was he avoiding her, or his own feelings? Or were they one and the same?
She’d seen regret in his eyes after he’d kissed her, and he’d looked almost fearful as he’d backed hastily toward the front door.
Coachman John effectively brought her thoughts to a halt as he pulled the carriage up beside them.
But while she’d been waiting, a pesky little idea had formed in the back of her mind. Would it be so very inappropriate to make an unplanned visit to Jeremy’s Townhouse on Cork Street?
To visit Ollie, of course.
She bit her lip.
Visiting an orphan boy she’d taken an interest in ought not to be misconstrued in any way. In fact, it ought to be considered perfectly acceptable. Quite appropriate.
And in the event that she did happen to run into Jeremy, she had her maid with her to act as chaperone.
Nothing improper at all.
Unwilling to rethink her decision, she whipped open the sliding door to the driver’s box. “Sixteen Cork Street.”
Louise, of course, didn’t question their new destination but did raise her brows half an inch.
The truth of the matter was that Lydia was very curious about Ollie’s plight. So much so that she’d talked her nerves into settling down considerably by the time they arrived at Jeremy’s modest Mayfair townhouse.
Modest by Heart Place standards, that was.
“No need to wait on us, John. Louise and I can return on foot.” Knowing her maid was always amenable to taking the air, Lydia waved the carriage away as Louise held the iron gate open for Lydia to pass through.
The brick façade of Jeremy’s townhouse was newly painted, and the wood door was polished to a high shine.
Oh, she hoped Ollie had made the right decision and stayed with Jeremy after all.
She didn’t recognize the servant who opened the door, nor did he recognize her. She faltered, doubting her decision to visit for an instant. Matters between her and Jeremy were very different than they’d been before. She had practically been on a first-name basis with most of his servants at Galewick Manor.
The manservant stared down at her, awaiting some explanation for her visit.
Which in actuality, posed no problem for Lydia. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. She was a Cockfield, after all.
“I am Lady Lydia Cockfield, sister of the Duke of Blackheart.” She summoned some of her brother’s demeanor. “I am here to meet with Ollie, the young boy Lord Tempest took in recently.”
The butler stared down his nose at her, but then stepped back, widening the door and bowing. “Of course, my lady. This way, please.”
Lydia craned her neck around, taking in her surroundings. This was where Jeremy spent most of his time.
The foyer’s decor was very representational of him: subdued yet tasteful paintings, quiet-colored moldings, and shining wood floors. There were several rugs, with simple but elegant floral accents, placed about.
The scent of lemon oil hung in the air as she followed the butler into a drawing room where the walls were painted an eggshell blue and the furnishings upholstered in matching blues and golds. A very expensive-looking vase was propped on a table behind the long settee.
This room, she decided, must have been decorated by his mother.
“How is Lady Tempest?” she asked impulsively.
The butler frowned as though uncertain of divulging his employer’s personal information.
