they did not wear gloves so she could feel his warmth on her palm. She gazed in his blue eyes, so warm and kind within that harshly handsome face.
“Will you stay with me through this?”
He coaxed her out with a gentle tug. “I will come in with you. And I will stay with you as long as you want me to.”
It sounded as if he did not understand what she had meant. Then again, maybe he had.
Together they entered that door. Side by side they found the man Mr. Sanders had referred her to.
A half hour later, she walked out an heiress.
* * *
Chase welcomed Nicholas’s message when it arrived. Call at one o’clock, if you can.
He had spent a restless evening and night. He had left Minerva with her “family” to celebrate that money she had taken home. He had not told her to come to him when she wanted to. She would know she was welcomed. However, he also did not make arrangements to see her on his own initiative.
In one half hour, much had changed. He could not pretend it had not. He had known it would, but experiencing the implications soured his mood. Beneath his rumbling frustration, nostalgia put down roots.
She had taken the first step to enjoying the fruits of her good fortune. She had no need of inquiries, or his protection. That inheritance, now in hand, would change things. Change her. He pictured her receiving calls from ladies, and attending parties and balls. He saw her in silks that would make that dinner dress pale in comparison.
He imagined men flirting with her. Not only fortune hunters. She would spot those immediately. Other men, however, would be drawn to her flame. Lords and industrialists and men of greater wealth than she possessed. The day would come, perhaps quickly, when he was only one of her friends, and not a special one at that.
He couldn’t stop any of it. He didn’t want to, yet he did. He did not want to see other men considering her as a prospective wife of good fortune, or as an inappropriate woman with whom to dally for a while. Even if she rejected them all, it would drive him mad.
He arrived at Whiteford House a quarter hour before one o’clock. He had rehearsed the words with which he would inform Nicholas that he had been conducting an inquiry for the Home Office even while he conducted one for Nicholas. It was time to do that, since Peel’s request for a report could not be put off any longer. He did not expect his cousin to take the revelation calmly.
Nicholas waited in the library. “There you are. Come in, and prepare yourself,” Nicholas said.
“Prepare myself for what?”
“Family doings. Walter and his wife are coming soon.”
“To ask for money?”
“Undoubtedly. However, from Walter’s note, I think there is more to it than that. He referred to information of the utmost importance.”
“Before they come, I need to tell you something, also of the utmost importance.”
Nicholas made a waving gesture with his hand. “We will talk after they have left. I can only take one utmost importance at a time.”
At exactly one o’clock, the butler delivered Walter’s card. “Of course he is promptly on time. One would expect nothing less,” Nicolas said.
Walter entered with Felicity at his side. After greetings, Nicholas invited them to make themselves comfortable.
Walter glanced at Chase, then addressed Nicholas. “I was hoping to do this with you alone. The matter is very delicate.”
“Chase is here at my request. If you intend to tell me that the Countess von Kirchen is not the widow she claims, I already know that.”
Walter colored. “I have no interest in your mistresses. This, as I wrote, is a matter of utmost importance.” He leaned in, very sober-faced. “It has to do with Uncle’s death.”
“Then Chase most certainly should be here. Perhaps you will share what you have come to tell me.”
“My wife was in town a few days before Uncle died. She had some shopping to do. She was on Bond Street and—”
“Perhaps you will allow her to tell it, since it is her story,” Chase said.
Walter frowned at him. He turned to Felicity. “Are you up to it?”
“I am sure she is, aren’t you, Felicity?” Nicholas said.
She nodded. “I was in town, shopping. I saw Kevin while I was on Bond Street. Riding down, as plain as could be. Later, when everyone said he was in France, I didn’t know what to do. On that