The Formidable Earl (Diamonds in the Rough #6) - Sophie Barnes Page 0,18

nodded. “And don’t forget about declining the invitation I received from the Warwicks.” He hadn’t the time or the patience to bother with social events at the moment. Until Matthew’s case was solved, Miss Strong would have to take precedence.

“Duly noted. I can also update the ledgers if you like.”

“That would be helpful. Thank you.” Assured Winthorp had everything well in hand, Simon set off. Taking Pall Mall and The Strand would definitely be the fastest, but doing so was also most likely to cause an encounter with someone he knew. Disinterested in having to stop for an exchange of pleasantries or, God forbid, to tell someone where he was headed or what his plans were for the day, he chose to use the less popular back roads instead.

After heading north to Jermyn Street he crossed to Orange Street which ran behind the royal mews in an eastern direction. A few small out of the way shops were located here, their rents much lower than on the more popular thoroughfares.

Drawn by a cobbler’s window, Simon took a moment to admire the sleek lines and high polished gleam of the boots on display. He could always use another pair. Except having his feet measured would take time he really didn’t have to waste. And besides, he was actually rather eager to see Miss Strong again. Not that she herself drew him. To suppose such a thing would be utterly absurd. No, it was the cause he was now a part of. He wanted to get on with it, make a plan, see justice served on Matthew’s behalf.

That was all there was to it.

Simple and uncomplicated.

He resumed walking, only to halt once again when he came level with a florist. Women liked flowers. Perhaps he should buy a nice bouquet for Miss Strong in celebration of their new partnership. He frowned. She might misconstrue the offering as an attempt on his part to seduce her. Then again, she might also appreciate it since he doubted she’d ever received such a thing before. Roses were nice. Everyone liked them. Surely she would as well.

Decision made, he entered the shop. A tinkling bell announced his arrival, albeit unnecessarily since a female customer was already being tended to by a clerk while two more waited.

They glanced his way on account of the bell, nearly tempting him to mutter something about being in the wrong place and walking away. But no. He was a man and he had a purpose. He’d not be intimidated or chased away. Certainly not by a group of women he didn’t know.

Simon cleared his throat, touched the brim of his hat, and wished them all a good morning. Three pairs of eyebrows rose before the women returned his greeting and gave their attention back to the front of the shop.

Taking a deep breath, Simon went to the end of the line and waited to be served. There was only one reason a man visited a hothouse, and that was to buy flowers for a woman, most commonly one he hoped to marry.

Tamping down his rising panic as best as he could, he forced himself to remain completely still and seemingly indifferent to his surroundings. Why on earth had he thought buying flowers for Miss Strong would be a good idea? He really couldn’t recall.

It was almost his turn when the bell chimed again, signaling the arrival of a new customer. Simon instinctively turned and almost groaned when he saw who it was: his former fiancée’s mother, the Countess of Warwick – the very same woman whose invitation his secretary was presently turning down – and most importantly, London’s biggest gossip.

What the devil was she doing here in this inconspicuous place?

With a tight smile strategically slapped into place, Simon greeted the lady in a manner he hoped would be considered polite. “Lady Warwick. What a delightful coincidence.”

Her eyes widened even more than they had when she’d first spotted him. “Indeed. I was just about to say the very same thing.”

Doing his best to appear completely at home among all the blooms the shop had to offer, he schooled his features and casually asked, “What brings you here?”

She shuffled into position behind him and motioned for the maid who’d accompanied her to stay by her side. “The fashionable shops are always so overcrowded,” the lady declared. “Coming here is a far more pleasurable experience. I come once a week to order fresh flowers for my home, and allium is currently the flower to