Twice in his life now, he’d proclaimed the title with the intent of impressing everyone in the room.
“Northumberland?” gasped Hooke, clearly impressed. “But, Your Grace!” Hooke swept his hat from his head and bowed with exaggeration. “Isobel?” scolded Hooke. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I—ah...” began Miss Tinker.
“What an honor to have you in my shop, sir,” continued Hooke. “But how similar you look to your portrait in the papers. Wait! I’ve today’s edition here.”
While the room stared, Hooke pulled a broadsheet from his greatcoat and unfurled it.
“Aha, there ’tis!” Hooke shovedThe Timesat Jason, but only Miss Tinker and Samantha leaned in to see.
The headline “Northumberland Departs Foreign Office to Assume Dukedom” shouted from the page, accompanied by a rather constipated-looking etching of Jason’s face.
The sight of the headline invoked a now-familiar burn in the lining of his stomach, and Jason looked away.
“Let me guess,” boasted Hooke, “you intend to pack away your mother and sisters on holiday so you may enjoy peace and quiet as you settle into Syon Hall?”
“Mr. Hooke,” said Isobel Tinker in quiet shock, “the Duchess of Northumberland and His Grace’s sisters have suffered a great loss.”
Hooke ignored her. “You could not have chosen a more reliable, respectable, and, dare I say,esteemedtravel agent for the ladies! And what luck, you’ve called on a day when the owner—that would be me, sir—is in the office to manage every detail. Samantha?” he barked to the clerk. “Bring chairs so His Grace and I might sit.”
Jason held up a hand. “If it would be agreeable to you, Mr. Hooke—it is Mr. Hooke, isn’t it?”
“Drummond Hooke, at your service,” said Hooke, bowing again.
“Right,” said Jason. “If it would be agreeable, I’d hoped to finish quickly and be out of your way. I’ve already given my details to your Miss Tinker here. I understand that you’re in town on important business and I’m loathe to intrude on your meeting.”
“’Tis no intrusion,” tried Hooke.
Jason gritted his teeth. “Miss Tinker and I were nearly finished, and I’ve my own demanding schedule.”
Hooke looked uncertain.
Jason finished it. “Honestly, these are the sort of secretarial notes that are surely below the notice of the owner.” He gave the younger man a knowing look. “The girl will do for this.”
Hooke nodded, mimicking Jason.
Miss Tinker cleared her throat. “Perhaps I can see the duke on his way while you review the ledgers with Samantha, Mr. Hooke?”
The younger man glanced first to Samantha, then to the open ledger on the counter, then to Miss Tinker. It occurred to Jason that Drummond Hooke had been looking forward to crowding over that ledger book with Isobel.
“It’s all settled, then,” Jason said quickly. “I’ll not take more than five minutes of Miss Tinker’s time.”
He scooped up a second chair and plunked it at the desk. Meanwhile Samantha darted behind the counter, flipping pages in a ledger.
“Here you are, Mr. Hooke,” the clerk called. “In fact, we have a question on the profits for this quarter. Higher again, you’ll see.”
“So you say,” said Hooke slowly, watching Jason flick his coin again.
Isobel Tinker slid into the chair. “You have three minutes,” she whispered.
“I said five.” Jason sat across from her.
She closed her eyes and drew a deep, calming breath. When she opened them, she said, “Why didn’t you tell me you were a duke?”
“I did.”
“Dukes do not lurk about in alleys. They do not book holidays at small travel agencies for women travelers.”
