Kevin greeted them with what looked like relief. The viscountess appeared less than pleased. Her expression cleared when she learned that Minerva aided Chase on some of his inquiries. With a long look she regarded them both. Minerva all but heard the woman’s head drawing conclusions. After that, the viscountess was very friendly.
* * *
“I am too full,” Minerva said. “I feel as portly as your cousin’s butler.”
Chase patted her stomach. “You did enjoy yourself heartily.”
“Blame Beth. She said she wanted all the particulars and I could hardly give them if I didn’t taste it all.”
They sat together in the new carriage. Chase thought the dinner had been successful for Nicholas, his first as the new duke. A small affair, he had invited people not given to hard criticisms. If any were there, Minerva at least did not notice them. She was bright-eyed and vivacious throughout it all, behaving as if of course she should be sitting with those lords. She had perhaps overindulged herself at the table, though. She had only taken the tiniest taste of most of it, but even that was enough to put her in her current state.
“You probably should take me home,” she said. “I am not fit for anything else.”
“If you want, I will do so. I would like to hold you for a while, though. I don’t need anything else.” Except conversation. He needed to talk to her about her husband’s death. Finally.
It had been a bad three days for his conscience. He had engaged in more self-reflection than he normally embraced. The conclusions he had drawn, about her, and himself, and their liaison had surprised him. Nor could he ignore that once his anger subsided, the strongest reaction became an urge to protect her, not investigate her.
“You can visit at my house, if you want,” she said. “I would feel better there, in case I—”
He told the coachman where to go. “You will feel much better in an hour or so. You drank a fair amount of wine, and that is only making it worse.”
At her house, she went above for a while. When she returned she wore the new undressing gown. Her expression suggested that just removing her stays and dress had helped.
“Won’t Beth mind?” he asked, embracing her shoulders when she sat beside him.
“It ismyhouse.”
“Of course.”
She lolled her head on his arm. “It was a wonderful dinner party. I’m sure in the morning I will relive every magical moment. The flickering lights, the silver and gold, the food—oh, my, the food. Your cousin’s friends were very gracious. A few of the ladies asked about my inquiries with interest. I think one or two will be asking for my help in the future.”
Good for Minerva. Probably good for the ladies. Not so good for him. A day ago, should they want an inquiry, they would have called onhim. Rather suddenly, with one dinner party, she had become a competitor thriving in his own garden.
He had competitors already. Some good ones. One other who moved in the same circles. Minerva, however, presented a special appeal, one which he could not match. She was a woman. If an inquiry touched on any matter that could be calleddelicate, another woman would be most likely to seek out Hepplewhite’s.
“I spoke with Jeremy,” he said. “He was agreeable with your idea.”
“I’m glad. He could use the work. It suits him far better than some of the things he does to earn some coin.”
“He said you do not pay him.”
“I don’t pay Beth either. Or myself. He lives here. He eats here. However, if the inquiries keep coming as I anticipate, I intend to give him wages soon. And, of course, in due time I will have some of the trust’s income too.”
He did not mind that those wages would derive from inquiries he should have had instead. Not at all. He did not really need the income. And yet—he looked at her. Head back, eyes half closed, hair mussed—she looked ravishing in her dishabille. Now that she had one toe in society, he did not doubt she would build Hepplewhite’s quickly. He was happy for her. Truly. Someday, however, he would probably give Nicholas hell for inviting her to that dinner.
“When we were talking, Jeremy said something provocative.”
That got her attention enough that she raised her head. “An odd word, provocative. Are you saying he made you angry?”
“Not at all. He said he didn’t understand why we don’t share a business, if we are going to share workers.”
She turned her body so she faced him. “How was that provocative?”
“It provoked thought.”
“Are you saying you would want to do this?”
“I am only saying that it makes some sense. You have abilities I don’t have. I have some you don’t have.”
