“Will?” Rosehill’s tone was high-pitched and when I turned to him, he was striding toward the window as well.
The source of thethunkanswered, drawing my attention once again.
“I donna know who ye think I am, but I’m no Madame. Please leave.”
It had to be the most abysmal Scottish accent I’d ever had the displeasure of experiencing.
The man’s response was startled and unintelligible, each word more distant than the last.
Dragged away then.
I turned back to Rosehill, brow raised as I waited for an explanation. He was backing slowly out of the room.
“Well, that was strange. You’ve given me a great deal to think on. I should be going now. Do you think you can draw up some paperwork to keep Mama and Davina from bankrupting us if I travel for an extended time?”
I turned to follow him out. “I can— You’re really not going to address that?” I asked, nodding toward the window.
“I have no idea what that was about. Some poor Scotswoman accosted on the street.”
“Right. I’ll draw up some paperwork, perhaps daily and weekly spending limits with the most likely culprits, modiste and such. You go see to your poor Scotswoman.” We continued walking, predator and prey, through the main room.
“Yes, perfect. Thank you!”
“Of course. Rosehill?”
“Yes?”
“Next time, come alone?”
His shoulders fell a bit at that. “All right.”
“Have a nice day,” I said, holding the door open. After closing it behind him, I turned to face all the clerks and Kit observing me with interest.
“What was that about? Is Lady Davina in trouble? Do you need me to contact anyone about it?” Kit asked, feigning disinterest from his office.
“No, as far as I can tell she’s fine. I think that was about me.”
His shoulders dropped with something like relief.
“Why would it be about you?” he questioned.
“It’s a long story.”
“I have nothing but paperwork and time.”
“I think I have a spy? It’s unclear.” An enemy with haunting, horrified green eyes—burned in my memory.
“You? Who would want to spy on you?”
An excellent question, if somewhat insulting in tone.
“I suppose we’ll find out.”
Ten
OUTSIDE HUDSON’S BAKERY, LONDON - JUNE 12, 1816
CELINE
