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“Nevertheless, there are matters to which I must attend.” Jane detected a momentary flicker of annoyance in Clive’s eyes, but it passed.

“Don’t let us detain you.” Allegra’s chin lifted to reveal the elaborate bow of her bonnet. “Come on, Clive.”

Clive stayed Allegra with a hand on her elbow. “Forgive the unexpectedness of our call, cousin. We would in no way be remiss in duty to a family member.”

“You can’t go about London unaccompanied, you know,” Allegra added.

“I won’t.”

“And you do know you must not stay in a hotel on your own.” Allegra glanced disdainfully at Nell.

Clive shot his sister a sharp glance. “Jane, may I call you Jane, cousin?” He waited for an answering nod from her. “Please forgive my sister’s frankness. She means well. Surely, you would be more comfortable with family than in a hotel.”

Jane did not think she had heard the word cousin quite so many times in her life, but she was sure the connection did not entitle these strangers to take charge of her.

“Oh, you must not worry about my situation. Let me introduce you to my companion.” Jane sent Nell to call Mrs. Lowndes, who stepped into the salon just as a jaunty staccato rap sounded on the suite door and snapped all their gazes around again.

* * * *

From the doorway, Hazelwood took in the scene. He found the room distinctly overcrowded for his purpose. In addition to Jane’s formidable chaperone Mrs. Lowndes at her side, Clive Walhouse and his very pretty sister occupied a prime stretch of carpet facing Jane.

Mrs. Augusta Lowndes was a full-figured woman with waves of sandy hair under a lace cap. Her ample bosom and firm erectness of carriage reminded Hazelwood of a certain tall, upholstered armchair in his father’s study from which Lord Vange had been fond of handing out blistering reproofs. He felt a brief spasm of sympathy for Walhouse. Augusta Lowndes’s respectable figure in gray silk had a dampening effect on a man’s designs.

He shifted his gaze to Jane’s guarded face. She looked as if she found her cousins’ company smothering. He didn’t know whether she was the sort to be taken in by protestations of familial feeling, but his job was to keep her with him. His mission depended on it.

“Jane, I hope I’ve not kept you waiting. I know you want to make an early start on our errands.” He crossed the room, taking care to pass between Jane and her relations, making the pair of them step back. He kept his gaze on Jane, showing her as he passed, a basket in which was nestled a flannel-clad bundle. She cast a puzzled glance at his bundle, until she caught its aroma. Her eyes widened appreciatively. He’d not been wrong in guessing that she had a morning coffee habit after her long years in the near East. He deposited the basket on the desk and stood beside her.

Only then did he turn to the others, assuming a rueful face, as if he’d just noticed them. “Beg your pardon. Morning, Walhouse, Miss Walhouse. Don’t let me interrupt a family visit.” He bowed slightly.

He met Walhouse’s expressionless gaze and watched Allegra stiffen, her mouth a taut line of disdain as she turned on Jane. “Hazelwood is your prior engagement? You prefer him to family?”

Hazelwood pulled Jane’s arm through his. She made no resistance. “Jane and I are old family friends.” Saying her name was a deliberate provocation, and he waited to see how much of a problem Walhouse meant to be.

Walhouse’s smile faded. “I didn’t realize you had family friends, Hazelwood.”

“Surprising perhaps, but as you see, I count Jane as one of them.”

Allegra tugged her brother’s sleeve, her outraged stare directed at Jane. “Don’t let us keep you, Jane, when you have such friends.”

Walhouse removed his sister’s hand from his sleeve. She glared at him and spun on her heel for the door. He turned to Jane and smiled again, drawing an envelope from his coat. If Jane Fawkener was any good at reading smiles, she’d see that Walhouse’s smile was as false as wooden teeth.

“Cousin, even if you are not prepared to accept our invitation today, I hope you will join us for a family musical evening my mother is hosting.” The man leaned close enough to give Jane a whiff of the scented pomade keeping his golden curls in such artful disarray. “You are quite new to London, and I hope you will let your family guide you. We can steer you away from many difficulties.”

“Thank you, cousin, for this morning’s call.” Jane took the envelope, disengaging her arm from Hazelwood’s. “And please thank your mother for the invitation. It is my second evening invitation, and I shall value it accordingly.”

Hazelwood admired how neatly the girl did it. She put Walhouse in his place, and he’d never even seen it coming.

The man had no choice but to bow and follow his sister out the door.

As the door closed, Jane turned to Hazelwood. “You lied to them.”

“You’re welcome.” He withdrew the flannel bundle from the basket, and had the satisfaction of feeling her draw closer. No one made better coffee than Nate Wilde. Hazelwood had counted on that and on her long years of living in a world where next to a leather water bag, the coffeepot would be the most valued household item. He’d not been in the East himself, but he’d heard the stories often enough in the clubs.

“I wasn’t thanking you,” she said as she watched him unwrap the coffee flask.

“Oh, I think you were.” He grinned at her. “But perhaps you’d feel more grateful if I’d taken stronger measures. I’d be happy to toss your cousin Clive down a stairwell if you like, or offer Allegra’s bonnet to a starving goat.”

She gave him an arrested look before she spoke. “Surely your role as protocol officer does not include dismissing my family.”