Page 135 of The Siren of Sussex

“We’re not going to Hyde Park.” He guided the horses through traffic. “There’s something I want to show you on the other side of town. It’s but fifteen minutes away. The drive will give us time to talk.”

“What is it you want to show me?” she asked.

Stephen looked straight ahead as he drove. He didn’t answer her. Not directly. “I had no inkling you were in London. The day I saw you riding in Rotten Row, I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve changed since coming here.”

She watched the street flash by in growing apprehension. “Stephen—”

“I’m not criticizing you. You must know I find these changes appealing. It’s part of the reason I’ve stayed in town. And we’ve always been comrades, as you say. Compatible in terms of interests and temperament.”

Evelyn’s blood ran cold.

Good lord.

He was going to propose to her.

All those years of waiting and hoping. Dreaming that he’d one day ask her to marry him. And now the moment was here, and all she wanted to do was leap out of the carriage and flee.

“Please don’t say anything else,” she said. “Truly. It’s better if you—”

“I know you’re upset that we’ve grown apart these past years. But that can’t matter in the scheme of things. You must think of your place in the world. You’ll want to be comfortable. And you’ll want Hephaestus looked after. That much I can do for you.”

“You’re very generous, but I really don’t—”

“I intend to be generous,” Stephen said. He kept the horses at a quick clip. “Wait until you see the house I’ve found.”

She stared at him, incredulous. “You’ve found a house for us?”

He nodded. “I was all over the city when I was looking for my brother. I scoured Mayfair to start, before moving on to Bloomsbury. From there I traveled east toward St. Paul’s.”

She listened to him describe his search in minute detail. Her alarm at the prospect of his proposal was gradually replaced by amazement at his rank stupidity. “Did it never occur to you to look near the docks?”

“At the logs of the steamers coming and going from France? I did. There was no trace of them.”

“Not just at the ships’ logs. At the inns and taverns nearby.”

He snorted. “Anthony wouldn’t be caught dead in such places. As for your sister, can you imagine her consenting to stay in a common inn?”

“Yes,” she said dryly. “Only too well.”

“Well, I can’t. I thought it best to restrict my search to places where the pair of them might actually deign to stay. I got as far as Gracechurch Street. It was there I found the house I’m taking you to see.”

Gracechurch Street?

“It’s out of the way of fashionable society,” he explained. “You wouldn’t want to be always running into people you knew before.”

A dawning suspicion awoke inside of her. “Just what is it you’re proposing?”

“An arrangement,” he said.

“An arrangement,” she repeated. “Not a marriage?”

His gloved hands spasmed on the reins. The horses briefly broke into a canter. It took all of his attention to bring them back down to a trot.

“Not marriage, then,” she said, “judging by your reaction.” The carriage bounced along in silence for several uncomfortable seconds. It was a confirmation of Evelyn’s worst fears. “I’ll thank you to return me to my uncle’s house.”

“But what about—”

“I don’t want to visit Gracechurch Street,” she said. “I want to go back to Russell Square. Immediately, if you please.”