“Liar.” Jeremy turned their steps up Bolton Street. “You forget that I know you too well—the right corner of your mouth twitches whenever you are telling a bouncer.”
Was she really so easy to read?
Charlotte smiled in reply, but inwardly chided herself to learn from Wrexford how to keep her emotions better masked.
That proved even more of a challenge once Jeremy had escorted her inside the elegant tea parlor and had the waiter seat them at a table looking out through the large windows onto Berkeley Square. A parade of fancy carriages rolled by, the wheels clicking smoothly over the smooth cobblestones. Ladies frothed in silk and satins strolled along the neatly raked gravel paths of the central garden, accompanied by gentlemen dressed in the first stare of fashion.
“A sunny day always draws even more business,” explained Jeremy. He, too, was stylishly attired. He had always had exquisite taste, and now with the unexpected inheritance of a title, he had the money to afford fine clothing. His subtle choices of fabrics and colors created an understated elegance that complemented his fine-boned features.
He was, mused Charlotte, a very attractive man—and by the sidelong looks he was drawing from the other ladies in the shop, it hadn’t gone unnoticed here in Mayfair.
She shifted in her chair.
Agile waiters darted around horses and curricles, carrying confections from the shop to the groups of laughing couples who were loitering under the stately maples, enjoying their treats alfresco.
All the glitter of the brass buttons, silver-threaded trim, and bejeweled rings was making her eyes ache.
Nodding absently to Jeremy’s suggestion of strawberry ice cream, she turned her gaze to the mansions on the opposite side of the square. The columned entryways, the high mullioned windows, the carved limestone facades glowing like burnished gold in the afternoon sun—this was the heart of aristocratic London, a charmed rectangle of power and privilege.
It was ironic, thought Charlotte with an inward smile, watching the tea shop’s famous gilded pineapple sign gently swaying in the breeze. Pineapples were a symbol of hospitality, yet only the wealthy were welcome here.
She was an intruder.
Jeremy noticed her faraway look. “Shall we eat our ice cream outdoors?” he inquired as the waiter delivered their treats. The garden had a number of benches beneath the shade of the trees.
She nodded gratefully, happy to escape the cloying sugar and spice scents of the shop.
They found a quiet spot between two tall ornamental shrubs and made light conversation in between spoonfuls of the creamy confection.
Which was, Charlotte admitted, sinfully good.
She was sitting still, savoring the delicious sensation of cold melting into sweetness on her tongue, when the sound of footsteps on the other side of the shrubbery caught her ear.
They came to a halt.
“Are you sure?” The voice was pitched low but couldn’t quite disguise the Scottish accent.
“I’ve just come from White’s. Featherton is a good friend—and he’s also the brother-in-law of one of the justices in the Bow Street magistry.” The second voice spoke with a perfectly polished London accent. “So he confided that he just heard new evidence has been discovered concerning Drummond’s murder. And it’s not good for Wrexford.”
A muttered oath.
“Have you any idea when he’ll be returning to Kent?”
Every muscle in Charlotte’s body tensed.
“He didn’t say, Mr. Sheffield, but my guess is tomorrow,” replied the Scottish voice. “He was in no mood to linger there.”
“An arrest warrant has not yet been issued. However, the chances are it soon will be. Is there any way to warn him?”
“No, and I doubt it would do any good even if we could,” came the wry response. “You know the earl—he won’t shy away from confronting the authorities.”
“We need to convince him that discretion is the better part of valor.”
“I wish you good luck with that.”
“My luck is due to turn—let’s hope it’s now,” replied Sheffield. “Send word to me as soon as he arrives home.”
The crunch of retreating steps quickly faded, leaving Charlotte struggling to draw a breath.
