“Lady Charlotte! What a delightful surprise!”
“Mr. Moretti.” Charlotte forced a smile in response to his greeting. It should come as no surprise that he would pay a visit to one of London’s most famous cultural attractions. And yet, his presence couldn’t help but stir a niggling sense of unease.
Coincidences did happen. But Moretti’s next words only deepened her suspicions.
“Forgive me for being a few minutes late, Mr. DeVere. The corridors here are like a maze, and I fear I became a trifle confused in finding my way to this gallery.”
Charlotte, too, was feeling a little disoriented.
“The two of you are acquainted?” asked DeVere, his gaze darting from her to Moretti.
Lies would only come back to bite her, she decided. But there was no reason to volunteer any information.
“We had a very pleasant chat during the gala celebration at the Royal Botanic Gardens,” she replied.
If Moretti was taken aback by her response, he hid it well. “Indeed, we did,” he said, his face maintaining a blandly polite expression. He said nothing more.
“And you, sir? I imagine you, too, met at the gala, given your mutual interest in botany. Do you share a specific field of study?” Charlotte spoke to DeVere, curious as to how the two of them had come to know each other.
“Oh, I’ve been following Mr. Moretti’s work for some time,” responded DeVere. “His scholarship shows a great deal of promise. I have no doubt that we can expect great things from him.”
For a moment, her breath seemed to stick in her lungs.
The praise brought a faint flush of color to her friend’s cheeks. “You are exceedingly kind, sir. I—I shall do my very best to live up to such lofty expectations.”
“I’m sure that you will.” DeVere gave a friendly pat to Moretti’s shoulder. “Come, allow me to show you the highlights of the museum, and as we admire the timeless beauty of man’s creative efforts, we can discuss the details of my offer, and see if it is acceptable to you.”
“I . . . I . . .” Moretti appeared a little overwhelmed. “I am quite sure it will bemorethan acceptable, sir.” He turned to Charlotte, a beatific glow lighting his hazel eyes. “Mr. DeVere wishes to offer me a stipend and a place to work here in England for the next year, in order to continue my research.”
Charlotte managed to mask her shock though the announcement shook her to the core. “How very generous,” she murmured, avoiding DeVere’s gaze.
“Sì, sì,”said Moretti. “I am . . . how do you English say it . . . in alt at my good fortune.”
Be careful what you wish for, my friend, she thought.But perhaps Moretti already knew he was making a deal with the devil.
“I wish you the best,” replied Charlotte, hoping against hope that she was wrong.
“We ought not keep you any longer from your ices at Gunter’s, Lady Charlotte.” DeVere gave a genteel wave to the dowager and the boys, who were waiting at the far end of the room.
Was that a twitch of malice in his smile as he turned back to face her?
“Enjoy your outing,” he added.
“Ciao, bellaLady Charlotte,” murmured Moretti as DeVere gestured toward Lord Elgin’s marbles.
She walked away, careful to maintain a straight spine and a measured pace. It felt as if DeVere was taking every opportunity to poke and prod her, looking for a chink in her defenses. A way to strike at her most vulnerable weakness.
And one of Greek mythology’s most elemental lessons was that every mortal being had an Achilles’ heel.
* * *
As he had hoped, Wrexford found Sheffield in the main reading room at White’s. But in his hands was a sheaf of papers, rather than a glass of the club’s port or brandy. Indeed, on the side table by his armchair sat a pot of coffee.
“I swear,” grumbled his friend as Wrexford settled into the chair beside him, “there are times when numbers give me a bigger headache than cheap Blue Ruin.”
“Yes, but with numbers you actually profit from the pain.” Sheffield pinched at the bridge of his nose. “Only if I can find a way to lessen the transportation costs from Bruges to Dover, now that our lace supplier has raised the cost of his wares.”
“Speaking of shipping . . .” Wrexford glanced around to check that there was no one within earshot. “Have you had a chance to ask around about Quincy’s business?”
