He hoped to spend a year learning the ins and outs of the banking business and then secure a position in London. He’d kept his expenses low in New York with the plan of having enough to provide a comfortable home for Frances.
If she’d have him.
But would ‘comfortable’ be enough? He liked to think she returned his regard. It was the other aspects—especially the financial ones—that worried him.
But he couldn’t allow his thoughts to dwell on her. Peter came first and then he’d think of Frances.
“Perhaps I will look into that,” Thomas told his father. “But I’d prefer to do what I can first.” Surely, he’d find them soon if they were still in London.
He managed to change the subject for the remainder of the light meal and then prepared to take his leave.
Peter was assisting one of the footmen with his duties as part of his “training.” Staying busy helped him pass the time and kept his thoughts from dwelling on his family. At least, that was Thomas’s hope.
Thomas was putting on his jacket to leave again when a knock sounded at the front door. The butler spoke to whoever it was then closed it, turning with a message in hand.
“For you, sir.”
Thomas took the message, surprised by the feminine script. He opened the envelope, already guessing who had sent it. Frances probably wanted to make certain Peter wasn’t suffering any ill effects from the previous day.
Thomas,
The league members and I have a few ideas to offer to aid in the search for Peter’s parents. Are you available to discuss them this afternoon? We could meet at the bookshop again.
All my best,
F
Why was it that when he’d decided to keep his distance and focus on Peter she reached out? Then again, she’d already been in his thoughts despite his efforts.
“I do believe the footman is awaiting a reply,” the butler said.
Thomas nodded, torn as to how to respond. How could he refuse when he needed any assistance he could get to find the Schmidts? If the ladies had thought of a way to help, he would listen. He just had to remember that time was of the essence, and he couldn’t linger. Never mind that the hours seemed to fall away when he was with Frances.
If he was going to be in London longer, he was certain that not only could he find Peter’s parents, but he could also win Frances.
But he couldn’t halt time and had to work with what little he had.
“A moment while I write a reply,” Thomas said then strode into the reception room where his mother kept a pen and paper. He wrote a brief note, suggesting they meet at the bookshop at two o’clock.
He folded the message and handed it to the butler, his spirits lifting at the idea of seeing Frances again. Two o’clock couldn’t come quickly enough.
Frances entered the bookshop with her maid just before the appointed time and was thrilled to see Thomas already waiting.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted him. It took only one glance at his tight expression for her to wonder if something was amiss.
“And to you.” His gaze shifted from her to her maid and back again. “At least the weather has improved since yesterday,” he said with a polite smile.
She glanced out the nearby window, realizing she hadn’t paid any attention to the weather. She’d been too focused on seeing Thomas again. Clearly, that hadn’t been the case for him. Disappointment speared through her at the thought, and she found herself dropping her gaze, uncertain how to respond.
With a quiet huff of breath, she forced her eyes upward. “Y-yes. So pleased the wind has calmed.” There. That sounded like something a normal person would say.
As if restless, he glanced around the shop, but only one other customer was there, and he was speaking with the clerk.
Worry had Frances taking another step closer. “Is Peter well?”
“Yes.” Thomas’s lips tightened. “As well as can be expected anyway.”
“The poor dear.” If Peter wasn’t the problem, then what was causing his distress? “As I said in my message, a few ideas emerged from the league.”
