His image came to her mind, and she allowed herself to dwell on it. She knew it would do her no good to hope for a future between them, but one could always dream. Surely there was no harm in that, was there?
Fredrick sat in the coach as it rumbled down the street, his gaze fixated on the window. The closer they got to Emilia’s townhouse, the stronger the temptation to have the driver stop and call on her became. How easy would it be to alert the driver to come to a stop and call upon Emilia? But he wouldn’t do it. He didn’t want to know what Emilia meant to him, but these pesky feelings were becoming an unwanted distraction. He couldn’t afford to risk his heart.
His mind, however, had other ideas. Despite his attempts to concentrate on more pressing matters, his thoughts constantly strayed back to Emilia. It was vexing, and not at all useful. Why wouldn’t his mind cooperate?
Roswell’s voice broke through his musings. “We could stop, if you would like.”
“No, that won’t be necessary….” His voice trailed off. “Stop where?”
His brother chuckled. “I daresay that it is rather obvious, is it not?” he asked. “Do you truly want me to say it?”
Fredrick sighed. “That won’t be necessary.”
“You did speak rather harshly yesterday to Miss Sutherland. Perhaps you would care to call upon her and apologize,” Roswell suggested.
“We have more important matters to deal with, especially since Kendrick is waiting for us,” Fredrick said.
“True, but I can’t help but wonder if you are avoiding Miss Sutherland.”
Fredrick should have expected that his brother would easily see through him, yet that didn’t mean he had to persist with this line of questioning. “Can we discuss something else, anything else, really?”
Roswell’s expression grew solemn. “Did you visit Mother this morning?”
“I did, but it was before she woke up. I didn’t see a point in waiting,” Fredrick replied. “She doesn’t recognize any of us anymore. We are just strangers to her.”
“She is still our mother,” Roswell argued.
“That she is.”
A heavy silence descended upon the coach as they retreated to their own thoughts. Fredrick knew his brother was right; he should visit his mother more. However, she seemed to be lost in her own world now. A world that didn’t include him.
Fredrick’s gaze once again returned to the window as he observed the street vendors striving to peddle their goods on the bustling pavement. All manner of goods were on display, and the aroma of savory meat pies wafted in through the open window.
It wasn’t long before they arrived at the agency’s headquarters on the outskirts of the fashionable part of Town. They both exited the coach and made their way into the dilapidated building where they were greeted by a guard.
“Hello, blokes,” the guard said as he leaned his shoulder against the back wall, appearing unconcerned by their presence. “What can I do for ye?”
Roswell spoke up. “We are here to see Kendrick. He is expecting us.”
The guard seemed to size them up. “Very well, but I have heard he is in a foul mood.”
“When is he not?” Roswell joked.
With a chuckle, the guard opened the back door. “Go on, then,” he encouraged. “But don’t say that I didn’t warn ye.”
Fredrick trailed behind Roswell as they approached Kendrick’s office. Once they arrived, Roswell raised his hand and rapped on the door.
“Enter,” came Kendrick’s gruff reply.
As they entered the small study, Fredrick’s steps faltered when he laid eyes on the last person he expected to see.
Simone.
“You,” Fredrick said.
Simone stood in front of a chair, dressed in a simple blue gown. A matching reticule hung around her wrist, enhancing her ladylike appearance. Her eyes flashed with something he couldn’t quite decipher. Annoyance, perhaps?
Kendrick interjected, “I see that you are already acquainted with Miss Delacourt.”
