I glanced back, unable to hide my surprise. “You did?”
The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “Mr. Rohan Merriweather. A dashedly interesting fellow and the inspiration for the character Rohan Seymour.”
“Oh,” I said, as I recalled the details. The wryly funny Anglo-Indian solicitor was an excellent foil to the more sober inspector.
“When Merriweather retired from practicing law,” Mr. Dorian went on, “he turned his hand to poetry and became a minor sensation. I met him at a reading one evening, along with his very protective daughter, and we all became friends.”
“Oh.” I cleared my throat primly. “I see.”
“Unfortunately, the gentleman passed away a few years ago, but my friendship with Mira has endured.”
“Then, Langham is a stage name?” I asked with a casual air in a bid to save face.
The corner of Mr. Dorian’s mouth lifted, and he shook his head. “Her late husband was a Langham. He was a director and brought her into the theater world. Quite a bit older, though. Rohan didn’t like him much. Mira swore off marriage after he died. Frankly, I can’t imagine her being any man’s mistress,” he added with a chuckle, then quickly sobered. “Even still, I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that we are romantically involved.”
I inadvertently sucked in a breath as he stepped closer to me and lifted my chin. “I don’t know why you would be,” I replied, fighting to remain detached. “But it was Lord Linden who told me anyway.” I certainly didn’t want him thinking I had even bothered to make such an inference on my own.
That caught him by surprise. “Linden?” Then he shook his head. “That blackguard,” he muttered.
“He is nothing of the sort.”
Mr. Dorian let out a dark laugh. “You think it was simply a mistake on his part?”
“The baron was only trying to help.”
He let out a derisive snort. “He’s after something. I’ve seen the way he has been sniffing around you,” he added, his voice dripping with disapproval.
“Right,” I said, barely able to contain my outrage. “Because the thought that he would enjoy my company is simply too absurd for you to fathom.”
“That is not what I meant—”
“And even if you and Mrs. Langham are just friends, what about the rest of them?”
He narrowed his eyes. “The rest of who?”
“You are written about in the papers nearly every night!” I threw up my arms in frustration. “And always in the company of a different woman. You may not be involved with Mrs. Langham, but you are with someone. Not that I care, of course,” I added in a rather pathetic attempt at nonchalance.
Mr. Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. “It isn’t what it looks like.” I could only laugh at this clichéd excuse. “You know that I have long been a target for gossip,” he insisted. “My activities are often embellished, if not outright invented, simply to sell papers.”
I pursed my lips. “Fine. I understand. It doesn’t matter anyway,” I added softly, more to myself than him.
He held my gaze. “Doesn’t it?”
I swallowed and looked away. “I … I should go.”
It was a cowardly response, but my nerves were already so worn from our evening that I simply lacked the will to endure anything else.
Something like disappointment flashed in Mr. Dorian’s eyes. “Take my carriage, then. I’ll walk.” I began to protest, but he held up a hand. “Please.”
There was an unfamiliar weariness in his gaze that caught me off guard. I gave him a stilted nod and then followed himthe rest of the way to his waiting carriage. I stood on the pavement as he quickly spoke to the coachman, then he brushed past me and opened the door.
He held out his hand, and I stared at it for a moment before I took it. Once I climbed into the carriage and took my seat, I turned back. Mr. Dorian was leaning in the doorway, waiting for me to look at him.
“Think whatever you like if it makes it easier for you,” he began. “But there hasn’t been anyone, Minnie. Not since my marriage.”
Then he stepped back and shut the door quite soundly in my face.
Unsurprisingly, I did not sleep very well that night. After tossing and turning for hours, I finally gave up and instead set to work recording my latest discoveries. By the time dawn broke, I was bleary-eyed, exhausted, and had little to show for it.
