Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,53

would have a few new ones made for her. If Mrs. Ingram was going to greet patrons in a Mayfair shop, she needed better garments.

The men left, taking their wagon away. Rosamund set some caps in the window too, so any curious eyes had more to view. She unfurled an ostrich feather in front of it all. While she did that, a carriage pulled up on Oxford Street. She opened the shop door as Minerva stepped out and came toward her.

“I wrote that I would call on you tomorrow,” Rosamund said.

“You also wrote that you could not do it today because of duties here, so I decided to visit and see your shop, if you will allow it.”

“Of course, although it is not nearly finished.”

Minerva’s stride slowed as she neared. Her gaze went to Rosamund’s cheek. So did Rosamund’s fingertips. She had used some paint this morning, but the sun shone brightly and the “salve” barely helped.

“The rogue,” Minerva said before embracing her. “Now, show me and tell me everything about it.”

Rosamund introduced her to Mrs. Ingram, then gave her a tour. They ended it in the back workroom. Minerva looked over the materials and notions.

“Someday you must allow me to watch you create a masterpiece,” she said. “I am envious of anyone with artistic sensibilities.” She turned to face Rosamund. “You wrote that you needed my professional services again. How can I assist you?”

“Come with me.” Rosamund led Minerva out of the shop, then up the stairs to the first story. She took her guest to the apartment in back that had been arranged for Mrs. Ingram to use. She invited Minerva to sit at the small table set near a back window.

“You told me that Charles lives in Paris. Do you know exactly where?”

Minerva opened her reticule. “I suspected you might want that information if you have engaged me again. I do know where he resides. Here is the street and number.” She handed over a folded paper. “Have you decided to write to him?”

Rosamund fingered the paper. Just holding it made her heart quicken. “I have decided to make a journey to Paris. I intend to call on him while I am there.”

“How fortunate of you, to visit that city. Perhaps when you arrive in Paris, you should write to him first, and not surprise him unawares.”

She looked up from the paper, into Minerva’s eyes. “Do you think it a mistake to do this?”

“I spend many hours finding past friends or lovers, or lost family members. The reunions that ensue do not always unfold the way my patrons envisioned. Time changes people. Are you traveling alone?”

Would time have changed Charles very much? Might he have forgotten about her? Her heart refused to believe it. Theirs had not been a common love, but one of astonishing depth.

“I will be making the journey independently, but Mr. Radnor is also going at the same time. He will be available to provide help if I need it, and I will be available to sign documents if he needs that.”

Minerva’s eyebrows rose a fraction . “Is your maid Jenny accompanying you?”

“I asked her to help Mrs. Ingram here, and she has agreed to. I expect I can hire a maid at the hotel. Mr. Radnor recommended the Hotelle Le Meurice. Do you know it?”

“It will certainly do. I will send you the names of a few others tomorrow. Chase and I visited there last autumn, and I will also jot down directions to some shops you may want to visit, and send along some letters of introduction to friends who live there, should you need help. When do you leave?”

“Monday.”

“So soon? Have you recovered sufficiently from what transpired the other night . . . ?”

“I am not dwelling on it. There were things said, however, that I have been wondering about. Not said by Philip, but by others. About . . . our benefactor. Perhaps you can explain them. If they aren’t part of secrets, I mean.”

Minerva’s face lost most of its expression, except for a firm, somewhat distant smile. “If I can in good conscience explain, I will try. He fell off a parapet at his country home. It was declared an accident.”

“Yet some in the family don’t think it was. Lady Dolores, for example.”

“No. Some don’t.”

“Do they believe someone done him in?”

“Some do.”

Rosamund swallowed hard. “Do some think I did that? What with the legacy, I had—”

“No one has cause to speculate about you. You were in Richmond, so you