He paced, strangely nervous to meet her. What if her plan was not worthwhile?
I cannot upset Penelope, or Michael will take me to task.But he could not deny that this was the most excited he had been all week. Possibly all month…all year.
Stopping at the mirror next to the door, he shot his cuffs and fiddled with his cravat. He turned again to tread the length of the room, a lion in an elegant cage.
A knock turned him back toward his desk as a servant opened the door and announced Althea. At Evan’s nod, the door closed behind the footman’s departure.
Sable curls longer than the current fashion highlighted her porcelain skin, her dark brows and rose-colored lips the only swaths of color against that ivory. Dark eyes glowed with a fierce, intelligent light and took in everything and everyone around her. No shy retiring miss, this.
Whereas Beth’s bosom was soft, bouncy, and round, like the rest of her, Althea’s was shocking. Oversized for her lithe frame, her breasts were difficult to ignore. If her gaze had been any less commanding, he might not have fought very hard.
Unlike her cousin’s, however, Althea’s dress had a rather modest neckline, and she tended to keep her lips pressed closed, relying on Beth’s natural friendly and outgoing nature to lead for both of them. “Lord Cheltenham, thank you for seeing me.”
He harrumphed.
Godsakes, I sound like an old man. But ’tis not like Beth gave me much choice.
“I am happy to do so. ’Tis lovely to see you again, Lady Althea. Come, sit, and tell me more about what you’re looking to do.”
He gestured to the desk area.
She glanced over at the fireplace seating area but followed him, settling into a guest chair, her plum-colored skirts settling around her.
The deeper hues flatter her and stand out among the pastels the debs wear.
Bah, someone save me from myself.He was waxing poetic about a woman’s color choices.
“Call me Althea, please. I am not certain what Beth told you…”
“All right, Althea. And I am Evan. Now, assume I know nothing.”Because I do.“I’d prefer to hear about your business from you, anyway.”
“Ah. Well, you may or may not be aware that my husband left me his apothecary when he passed a few years ago. I have been managing it since then. Successfully, as I can show you.” She gestured to papers in her lap that Evan had not noticed until now.
“May I ask the location?” He knew it, as he knew most things about his guests. But he wanted to see how she handled the barrage of questions any investor would ask.
She named a street just south of Tyburn Road in a central shopping area walking distance from Mayfair.
“That is well-placed.” He nodded once. “I may even have been in there myself.”
“We have the usual offerings. Salves and tonics, beauty products, paper and ink.”
“So how do you differentiate yourself?”
“I have a unique soap no one else stocks currently. ’Tis specifically for hair, to protect it and nourish it. It is called shampoo, brought over from India, and I stock it in the same fragrances as body soap. It’s been one of my top sellers, so much so that I am barely able to keep up with demand.”
“How will the supplier increase production?”
“The stylist who introduced it to me has asked her family to help, and they’ve even hired two assistants now.”
Evan’s eyebrows lifted. “How much do you sell a year?”
Althea named a figure.
“And what percentage of your total sales is that?”
“Ten.”
He blinked twice before controlling his surprise. “Do you have any other single product that is ten percent of gross?”
