“I see. As you said, impossible.”
Only he had not said impossible. He had saidalmostimpossible. She turned and gave him a good look. “Get out of your mind’s pondering for a moment and explain what solution you saw. I know you devised one, even if you have not said so.”
He emerged from his thoughts much like an object lifted out of a lake, shedding the private calculations like so much water. “His share would only carry that weight if we each gave up an equal amount. If it all came from one half, his influence would be nonexistent.”
“Not true. Whoever gave up the percentage would be at the whim of whoever didn’t, should Mr. Forestier be persuaded to that viewpoint.”
“I suppose.”
“You don’t only suppose. You know. Let me guess. Thealmostimpossible only exists if I am the one to relinquish some of my half.”
“I certainly can’t give up any of mine.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“I would forever be at a disadvantage in any disagreement. He would be predisposed to throw in with you.”
“You don’t know that. It might not happen that way.”
“Rosamund,I’mnot the one he wants in his bed. He would probably agree to anything if he thought it brought him one inch closer to having you.”
What a startling thing to say. “How dare you suggest that I would use that to win an argument about a decision regarding the enterprise. I do not employ feminine wiles that way.”
His arm came around her shoulders. “I apologize. I probably could have said that better. Nor would you need to use any wiles. It would just happen. It would all come from him.”
His discreet embrace felt very nice. She leaned toward him so he might be less careful. “If you are right, that would not be fair. So, we are back to impossible.”
“It appears so.”
He turned her and gave her a kiss. A very nice kiss. Most of her thoughts about Mr. Forestier disappeared.
“Unless . . .”
His kiss moved to her ear. “Unless?”
“What if we did not give him a tiny percentage of the enterprise? What if, instead, after we are successful, we gave him a tiny percentage of the profit? He would have no vote then. No ownership. Yet he would still participate in success.”
He tucked her head against his shoulder and embraced her fully. “He would have to trust us to admit the correct profits. I doubt that he will.”
“Then we need to think of a way to document that to his satisfaction.”
They sat there in silence. She assumed Kevin was contemplating the problem for both of them. She just enjoyed the warmth of his arms and the fresh spring breeze.
“Something like piece work,” he finally said. “In any given year, once we are profitable, he would receive a small amount of what we get each time the invention is used. I’ll need to spend some time with calculations to come up with how much he gets, but I can do that tonight. I’m not sure he will accept your plan, but it is one way to do it.”
She rather liked the way he called it her plan. “If you can find a way for it to work, I’m sure he will accept it.”
“If you wear that red dress again, he probably will.”
* * *
As soon as they returned to the hotel, Kevin procured some paper. When he entered his chamber, Rosamund saw him shedding his coats. He moved two lamps to a small writing table, set out the ink and pen, sat down, and disappeared into numbers. She closed the door because he had forgotten to.
At the dinner hour, she went to his door to see if he had plans to dine below. Just as she knocked, a servant arrived with a meal on a tray. At Kevin’s call, the tray went in, not her.
She had her own dinner in her chamber, then went on her terrace to watch evening claim the city. Finally, she decided to see where all those calculations stood. She didn’t even bother knocking this time.
He didn’t notice. He just sat there in the glow of the lamps, gazing down at a pile of papers covered in scribbles and numbers.
