my hearing isn’t quite what it was. This seat offers the most advantageous position.”
“And if I said that I did mind,” Jess replied, holding back a scandalized laugh, “especially your presumption that I wouldn’t, might you then find somewhere else to sit?”
“Of course,” he said at once. He did seem slightly puzzled that she might object to his company. Likely, almost no one ever did. “Er, do you?”
“As you’re already seated,” she said airily, “and I’d hate to tax your very aged body by requesting you do change seats, you may sit beside me. This time.”
He inclined his head. “My thanks, Lady Hawk.”
“You are welcome, Your Wolfish Grace.” She said this with as much of a regal manner as she could muster, which was a surprisingly large amount, especially in relation to talking with a duke.
The sofa was not very big, and while she’d met men of larger stature than His Grace, he exuded an animal energy that seemed to fill the space between them. He radiated heat, and within moments of being seated beside him, she was warm and acutely aware of her own body. The seat shifted beneath her, and she could feel every scrap of linen between her gown and her skin.
“Ah, Trask.” The duke waved the marquess forward. “Shall we begin?” With those three words, all conversation in the chamber ceased. Everyone looked toward Lord Trask, who now stood in the middle of the room.
“My servants are distributing the agenda for the next five days,” Lord Trask explained. Liveried footmen circulated through the chamber, and Jess took one of the offered sheets of paper. The schedule appeared quite full.
Their host explained, “Today we’ll have a light repast, and then meet again early tomorrow morning for the first of our juries, wherein sundry individuals present their prospective businesses to us. We will take that time to question and investigate them as much as we desire, and then determine which of these businesses shall enjoy the benefit of our investiture. We will also take outside excursions.”
“We’re to be wrung out like so much laundry through a box mangle,” the duke said, but there was no annoyance in his voice.
“Fear not,” Lord Trask answered. “We’ve determined certain hours for leisure. I’m not without compassion.”
“That’s not what they say at the billiards tables,” a gentleman in a floral waistcoat said, and chuckled.
The duke laughed. “Indeed, no, and you still owe me thirty quid, Prowse. Plus another bob for offending the company with your waistcoat.”
Amused chuckles floated up from the company.
“Are we quite finished?” a silver-haired woman clipped. “If you keep nattering on, I may perish of hunger on this sofa.”
“We are indeed finished, Lady Haighe,” Lord Trask said with a bow. He strode to the bellpull and tugged on it. Within moments, footmen entered carrying silver trays laden with sandwiches, buns, and other edible dainties, to which the guests helped themselves.
Now was the time for her to gather more information.
Jess stood and moved toward Lady Farris. “If we’re the two newcomers to the Bazaar,” she said warmly, “we can help each other navigate. Are you at all nervous?”
People loved talking about themselves, and the more you asked them about themselves, the more agreeable they found you.
“I’ve raised three children into adulthood.” The countess patted Jess’s arm. “Nothing inured me to life’s vicissitudes like waking up to find a child covered in vomit standing beside my bed. Multiple times.”
“At least you weren’t covered in vomit.”
“Believe me, I have been.”
“Surely then you’ll find investing a relatively tame experience. Have you much proficiency in it?”
“None, and I’m looking forward to a new experience.” Lady Farris’s expression grew serious. “After my husband passed away, my eldest son and I did a thorough accounting of the title’s coffers. We discovered some appalling things—sugar plantations, and the like. I made certain we divested from those holdings.”
“Understandable.”
Lady Farris was eager to try something new, which could mean she would be eager to explore the world of a small business. She also cared about the ethics of her investments.
Some people didn’t think about the origins of their wealth. They only wanted to increase their fortune, regardless of its source. How many Bazaar guests held the same attitude? They might have deep pockets, but did Jess want to work with them?
She glanced toward the duke on the other side of the room, surrounded by people. The Duke of Rotherby was never alone. How . . . exhausting. Surely he would prize a moment to himself from time to time.