“Of course,” said Miss Eden. “I am always happy to visit a bookshop.”
Giving that a sharp nod, Jonathan turned them down the path that would lead to the gates, his heart already the lighter for it—
“We needn’t rush off this very moment,” said Miss Eden, tugging him away from his salvation. “I still wish to explore the park.”
Jonathan allowed himself to be dragged away (what else could he do?), but he couldn’t help casting a longing look over his shoulder at what ought to have been his escape.
Chapter 12
“Now, as we are on the subject of books and bookshops, who are your favorite authors?” asked Miss Eden.
“I do not read much nowadays,” he replied whilst resisting the urge to check his pocket watch.
“As you said last night. But whowereyour favorites?”
Jonathan supplied several answers in quick succession, and then paused as he realized his reply was veering into the dreaded “interview” territory that Miss Eden despised so much. Drawing in a breath, he forced himself to provide a more thorough answer, though none of it was particularly illuminating as his reading choices weren’t inventive.
Thankfully, that redirected the conversation neatly to Miss Eden’s own tastes, and once settled there, she spoke with an ease and liveliness that carried the discussion entirely on its own. That led to her defending sensational literature with great enthusiasm, particularly the more scandalous plots involving disguises, ruined fortunes, improbable inheritances, and characters behaving very poorly indeed. Every so often she interrupted herself to point out some detail within the park before circling back again without losing the thread of her argument.
Meanwhile, Jonathan’s attention frayed at the edges. He trusted his staff. He’d spent years ensuring the firm could function properly without requiring his supervision every moment of the day. Yet too many matters were shifting at once, and each hour spent away from the office seemed less like harmless amusement and more like neglect.
Several times his fingers drifted toward the watch concealed in his waistcoat pocket before he stopped himself, but it grew increasingly difficult to restrain the impulse.
“I see it is time to be blunt, Mr. Hatcher,” said Miss Eden, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “You are clearly distracted, sir, and not listening to a thing I am saying. And whilst I do not mind rambling on, curiosity is getting the best of me, and I demand to know what has you so occupied.”
A faint warmth rose beneath Jonathan’s collar at being so directly observed, yet the candor eased something inside him. There was no uncertainty in his interpretation, no expectation that he decipher hidden meanings buried beneath politeness and half-finished remarks. Miss Eden had noticed his distraction and demanded an explanation with enough good humor in her voice that he knew he had not entirely ruined the afternoon.
The simplicity of this moment settled through him with surprising steadiness.
“I apologize—”
“An explanation is better than an apology,” replied Miss Eden. “Though I am happy to know you regret neglecting our conversation, I would rather have a bit of honesty. If you do not find my subjects interesting enough, then I might as well attempt to join in yours.”
Jonathan shook his head. “The fault lies squarely on my shoulders, madam. Not your conversation.”
“Then out with it,” she said, glancing out at the people passing by.
Drawing in a breath, he said, “I was thinking of business matters.”
“I could’ve guessed that, sir.”
“Yes, well, there is a project that is particularly vexing at present,” replied Jonathan.
“Concerning…?” she prompted.
Glancing at his companion, he fully expected to see some teasing glint in her eye as though daring him to answer, but when he found only genuine curiosity, Jonathan began to explain the troubles facing a certain housing development. As the subject was unlikely to entertain a lady whilst walking through Regent’s Park on a clear spring afternoon, he began with only the broadest of explanations, yet every few sentences he found himself clarifying some point, correcting details, and explaining consequences that would likely hold little meaning for anyone outside his profession.
And when Jonathan glanced sideways toward Miss Eden, he expected to spy an expression of politely concealed boredom—and found only quiet attentiveness. There wasn’t an ounce of performance about it, with vague nods to be agreeable; her gaze met his with evident interest, brows slightly drawn as though genuinely attempting to follow the problem through each turn of it.
“A city is not merely a collection of buildings. Each decision has lasting impacts,” he continued, trying in vain to keep his tone from sounding like a lecture, but the idiocy of their choices was infuriating. “Drainage. Traffic. Rail. Housing. Markets. The impact of a poorly planned neighborhood is felt far beyond its boundaries, and to solve the problem costs far more in the future than it does to do it right in the first place.”
“As is often the case,” said Miss Eden with a nod. “Consequences only gain in strength and power the longer they are ignored.”
Brows raised, Jonathan nodded. “Precisely. Yet the cities are expanding willy-nilly with little thought beyond the immediate concerns, and even those are often overlooked in favor of greed.”
The whole thing infuriated him, making his words come faster as he described the frenzied manner in which so much was built, investors rushing ahead without considering the impact their actions would have. And though Jonathan tried to keep his feelings in check, the more he spoke, the quicker the words came.
“But by building so carelessly, aren’t they cutting into their own profits?” asked Miss Eden with a frown. “I do not boast a great understanding of business and economics, but doesn’t having too much of a thing lower the value? More houses than tenants mean they have their pick, then landlords must lower the rents to entice them.”
