Page 23 of The Detective and the Baroness

Corrine gave him a sad sort of smile. “No, at this particular time, we cannot. I am a practical woman in all things. I speak my mind. And I keep my promises.”

“And vows,” Mitchell added.

“Most especially vows.”

The waitress picked the right moment to bring the food, for Mitchell’s heart banged like a soldier’s drum. He had never before given voice to his emotions like this. Would it make their future interactions awkward? That was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Oh, my. Look at this meat pie. Baked to perfection,” Corrine enthused. She glanced up at the waitress. “Is it made with a hot water crust?”

“Yes, ma’am. Strong enough to keep in the meat and veg, but buttery and flaky within. Or so Liam says. Enjoy your meals.” The waitress smiled, then moved toward nearby tables.

“And this cheese sandwich looks delicious,” Corrine continued. “It is grilled and golden brown.” She bit into it, and the look of ecstasy on her face aroused him to the point of pain. Corrine swallowed, then met his gaze. “You are not eating. Is something the matter? Is my candor going to cause a chasm to grow between us, for that is not what I want.”

“It’s not what I want, either. We are adults. We can set aside what we discussed—for now.” Taking his knife, Mitchell sliced into the meat pie, and a thick gravy, along with cuts of beef and bits of vegetables, spilled out.

“I feel at ease talking with you. I have from the first. I consider us friends. Does that sound peculiar? Men and women—friends?” She took another bite of her sandwich. Mitchell picked up his and did the same. Delicious.

“It’s possible. And I always believed a couple had to like each other before progressing to the next step. Not that I know much about it.” He should not have said that—any of it—but it was too late to call the words back. It sounded as if he were intimating that they could be a couple in the future. As much as he yearned for it, he never should have voiced his innermost thoughts.

Corrine frowned and placed her sandwich on the plate. Then she daintily dabbed at her luscious mouth with the corner of the paper napkin. Blast his unruly physical reaction to her every movement—and his ill-advised statement about couples.

“I skipped all those stages with Travis. I should have taken the time to get to know him better before agreeing to the marriage, but I could not afford to. I acted selfishly.” She shook her head and put her sandwich down. “And now, I fear I have lost my appetite.”

The sadness and regret in her voice touched Mitchell’s heart. He reached across the table and took her hand, reassuringly squeezing it.

“Don’t admonish yourself. Addington came to you. It’s not as if you pursued him for financial gain. He made a business proposal, and your family’s survival was at stake.” Mitchell glanced at the table across from them. The family of five was staring at them, and the woman, in particular, looked shocked. God forbid anyone show any public display of emotion or empathy. He withdrew his hand. “Come now, eat your meal. This delightful food should not go to waste,” he coaxed gently.

“You’re correct. Thank you, Mitchell. You are a good friend.”

Oh, how he wanted to be so much more. Keeping their interactions friendly, and nothing else, would prove to be a challenge, but he would do it, for he respected Corrine too much to do otherwise. If he were a different sort of man, he could subtly encourage her to divorce Addington while slowly and seductively urging her to come to his bed.

But he wasn’t that man.

The Simpsons had brought him up better than that. For all Corrine’s strength and confidence, underneath it was a vulnerability he would never take advantage of. The decision to divorce Addington must come from her and her alone.

He glanced up at Corrine, who was busily cutting into the beef pie.

“I’m here for you,” Mitchell said, his voice husky with a rare show of emotion. “To assist you in any way. As an investigator and as a friend.”

Corrine met his intense stare, and her eyes shimmered. “Thank you.”

And he meant every word.

Chapter Nine

Mitchell escorted Corrine to her residence. After assisting her from the carriage, he passed her the wrapped loaf of bread.

“I will come around in about three days. Hopefully, I will have further information regarding the baron,” Mitchell said.

“Thank you. I enjoyed our luncheon. And thank you for suggesting I assist Doctor Hornsby. Next time I see him, I shall ask if he could use my help at one of the free clinics one day a week as well.”

“I’m sure he would appreciate that. Goodbye, Corrine.”

Turning the key in the lock, she entered the front hall, where Thomason stood at attention. “You have a guest, my lady. The Honorable Jeffery Edgeworth. He awaits you in the sitting room. I was about to bring him sandwiches and tea. Shall I bring dishes and utensils for you as well?”

“Just a cup, thank you, Thomason.”

Removing the veil, she stepped across the threshold of the sitting room. “Jeffery? What brings you here?”