She yanked her gaze up to her aunt’s frowning countenance.
“Beg pardon,” she said hastily. “You were saying something about, um, my family’s trip?”
Aunt Patty resumed her summary. “Your mama writes that the tour to support your papa’s campaign has gone smoothly. They’ve arrived at their last stop, Mr. Emmett Rothwell’s estate in Hampstead, where they will be staying the week. She says that your brothers are enjoying themselves thoroughly. Horatio jots in the margin that ‘the refreshments are tip-top, especially the pheasant pie,’ and Theo has sketched a hunting hound he saw in the kennels.”
When Aunt Patty displayed her brothers’ handiwork, Glory smiled affectionately. As much as she was enjoying her freedom, she missed her family. She felt a prickle of guilt that she’d asked to stay behind…but they were probably better off without her. Her social gaffes would not contribute to her papa’s cause.
“His Grace has given several well-received speeches,” her aunt read on. “In fact, Mr. Rothwell has apparently pledged his full financial support.”
“That is a coup for Papa,” Glory said with pride.
With a fortune amassed through investments, Mr. Emmett Rothwell had turned to philanthropy in recent years. Reformers vied for his support as he had both deep pockets and social influence due to his recent marriage to a widowed countess. Rumor had it that Sarah Rothwell, formerly Lady Gowerville, had helped her husband build his humanitarian reputation to such an extent that he was being considered for a knighthood.
“With the Rothwells as allies, His Grace will have the backing he needs to fight the good fight in the House of Lords,” Aunt Patty agreed.
Glory was struck by the similarities between Papa and Mr. Chen. On the surface, the two could not be less alike, yet they were both men of purpose and conviction. While Papa took on opium in the glittering arena of politics, Mr. Chen fought his battles in the shadowy streets of London. They were both tenacious, determined to stand up for what was right, and she admired them for it.
She contemplated what her parents would think of Mr. Chen…and then chided herself for putting the cart before the horse. She didn’t even know if Mr. Chen was interested in her. His apology and vow to never kiss her again indicated otherwise. Her hopes deflated like a rapidly descending hot air balloon.
Was I bad at kissing? Does he find me unappealing?
“What is the matter, Glory?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled. “I was just, um, woolgathering.”
“At this rate, you’ll have gathered enough to knit scarves for all of London.” Aunt Patty’s gaze gleamed keenly behind her spectacles. “It isn’t like your mind to wander. Is there something going on?”
I had my first kiss, and it was wonderful. But the gentleman didn’t seem to feel the same way, and I need to figure out what to do next. Meanwhile, I have a dognapping case to solve…
“I, um, didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Then be sure to have a lie-down, my dear. The Castlebury ball is this eve.”
Botheration. She’d forgotten about the ball. With her bosom friends out of commission, she would have to blunder through the evening alone, a prospect she dreaded. She would much rather be investigating Scott’s map. Under the pretense of a charity emergency, she’d secured Aunt Patty’s permission to visit Charlie this morning. Her aunt had allowed her to go accompanied by Elsie, her lady’s maid, whom she’d hired on Charlie’s recommendation.
A discreet sort, Elsie had enjoyed a cup of tea in the kitchen whilst Glory met with her mentor. She’d filled Charlie in on her adventures last eve…most of them, anyway. She’d glossed over the intimate details of Mr. Chen’s involvement.
Charlie, however, hadn’t been fooled.
“What does the master want from you, Glory?” Her steel-grey gaze slitted, Charlie had drummed her fingers on her desk. “First, he had the temerity to tell me how to run the Angels, now he has interfered with one of our missions. I am of a mind to pay him a visit—”
Glory had begged Charlie to let her take care of the matter, and luckily her mentor had relented. Yet Glory knew that the reprieve was temporary; if she didn’t sort things out with Mr. Chen, Charlie would not hesitate to step in.
The rest of the visit had gone better. Glory had produced the charm taken from Beauregard’s collar, and it was a precise match with the letter “B” Sir Barkley sported in his portrait. Charlie would verify their finding with Mrs. Mumford-Mills. In the meantime, Mr. Devlin would begin surveilling the locations on the map. On a positive note, Livy and Fi appeared to be on the mend and would be ready to check out the remaining properties this week.
Glory was looking forward to being with her friends again. She badly needed their advice when it came to Mr. Chen, even though the thought of disclosing her first kiss made her squirm with embarrassment. It wasn’t easy for her to discuss matters of the heart. As a lady of action, she was more comfortable scaling cliffs and chasing after villains than disclosing her feelings. Yet these were desperate times, and her friends could be counted upon for excellent advice.
Greaves entered the room.
“I beg your pardon,” the butler said in his sonorous voice. “A gentleman has arrived.”
Aunt Patty frowned. “We are not expecting visitors.”
“He says his name is Mr. Wei Chen. Shall I send him away?”
“No.” Glory bolted to her feet, rattling the china. “Master Chen is my…a friend.”
“Direct him to the drawing room, Greaves.” Aunt Patty rose as well, her brows arching over her spectacles. “I wonder what Mr. Chen wants?”
