of it. All the signs of nervousness plagued her, so much that she almost left without her reticule. Finally she went down and asked Jeremy to go out and bring her a hired carriage.
“I don’t need to,” he said. “One will be here in a few minutes. It came half an hour ago and has been waiting. The coachman decided to walk the horses a bit but will be back soon.”
“How thoughtful of you. Such foresight.”
“Not my doing. I didn’t know you were leaving, did I?” He gave her appearance a suspicious scrutiny.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of her house. Jeremy accompanied her outside and helped her in. “Don’t you be walking home late at night,” he said.
“I expect to be back in an hour at most, and I think my return will be accommodated just as my departure has been.”
“Let’s all hope it happens that way.” He stepped away and gestured for the coachman to go.
* * *
He paced the library. It was not a large one, so he kept pivoting and retracing his steps. His agitation threatened to create a valley in the carpet.
Anger sent him on this hike to nowhere. So did a different kind of fury. Upon receiving Minerva’s note, his first thought had been Finally. Only she was not coming for the reason he had hoped. She wasn’t even calling out of friendship. He had demanded an explanation and she intended to give it to him. Nothing more.
If his body did not accept the truth of that, it probably had to do with the way in which anticipation over the last few days had primed it to ache for relief. Telling himself he was an ass hardly helped. Desire did not have a logical mind.
“Sir, I prepared some negus. I will keep it warm until your caller arrives.” Brigsby appeared out of nowhere to announce that. “Should I plan for two for dinner? I have some fowl that would not take long to cook.”
Would she have eaten already? Hell if he knew. He doubted she had invited herself to dinner, though. “I don’t think so.”
“Perhaps you would like me to cook it for you, then. For after your caller leaves.”
“Do whatever makes sense to you. I don’t give a damn right now.”
Brigsby’s eyebrows rose. His mouth pursed. He disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, his steps going down the stairs to the kitchen far below. Almost at once his steps came back up, hurriedly. He passed the library door smoothing his hair and straightened his cravat. A moment later the sounds of a visitor broke the silence of the house.
“Sir, Miss Hepplewhite has called.” Brigsby handed over a card, as if Chase needed proof.
“For the sake of—bring her in. Get on with it, man,” he hissed.
Again those eyebrows rose. A minute later Brigsby ushered Minerva into the library and closed the door.
She looked especially lovely. For some reason tonight her face appeared even more luminous and her eyes dark like mink. He looked at her too long before he welcomed her and invited her to sit.
“I thought I should respond to your rude letter in person, lest you misunderstand my explanation in some way if I wrote.”
“Did you find it rude? I thought it was direct.”
“Directly rude. However, I understand why you were displeased. You thought I would tell you everything, like a good employee. Only I was never one of those.”
“I thought you would tell me what you learned because we were sharing information equally.”
“I see.” She raised her chin and lowered her eyelids. “So you have told me everything?”
An awkward, damning silence ensued.
“I didn’t think so. Well, here I am. Ask what you want and I will answer as I can.”
“I know that you went to the packet offices to look at the manifests of passengers. Yet you did not tell me that.”
“You did not ask. We spoke of other things.”
Other things. Important things. More important than this damnable inquiry that would probably shred his soul before it was done. He wished they were back on that day, enjoying that afternoon tight in a new intimacy stronger than any wrought by passion.
He forced himself back to the topic at hand. “I have gone, and also looked. The clerk remembered a woman requesting the same week’s manifests recently. You.”
“So you know that your cousin Kevin was not out of the country when your uncle died. That he came back from France for a few days, and then returned there.”
He gritted