Page 53 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

Zeph could not explain all of her enthusiasm to her friend. Though she enjoyed the younger girl’s company, Zeph hoped that Cosette had kept the book in her possession.

“My papa will join us in a few minutes. A friend of his will call upon us all soon, as well.”

“I cannot stay long.” Zeph was eager to be gone if others were to appear. “I have another engagement. But I am so glad to see you. I am so very thrilled you have escaped Paris.”

If Lenoir were to appear, Zeph needed to get to the topic of Vaillancourt quickly.

“I hated the crossing,” Cosette said. “We set out once from Calais, but storms drove us back. We took another packet in the dead of night to escape the French patrols.” She clutched her arms. “I never want to do that again.”

Zeph agreed. “I do not know if I hate the Channel weather more or the fear of being captured.”

“A nightmare.” Cosette rose. “Allow me to call for refreshment.”

“Please do not bother. As I say, I must soon leave. I was hoping you could give me the little book I pressed upon you when last we saw each other.”

“Oui, my friend.” She grinned, delight in her blue eyes. “I kept it for you. I brought it down this morning.”

Zeph glanced around. “Here?”

“Oui. Papa told me he had invited his friend who lives next door to join us so he could meet you. I knew we would have only a few minutes together.”

Zeph tipped her head. Mention of the friend again was odd. “Merci beaucoup. Is there a reason your father’s friend wants to meet me?”

“Oui. Odd that he requested it. I do not know why. But I want you to know that I do not care for this man. He is aggressive in an odd sort of way. My advice is to smile and say little to him.”

Curiosity gave way to anxiety. Zeph had long disliked meeting strangers since her days in the Conciergerie. Her panic at such encounters had abated lately. Rafe had helped her so often and so well, and often, she went out into Society more easily without a constant drumbeat of fear in her ears. But this neighbor sounded oddly presumptuous, pressing Monsieur Lenoir to meet a young woman whom he did not know. “Why would a stranger wish to meet me, Cosette?”

“I have no idea. Perhaps we can learn that as we talk.”

Or I can leave—and soon. “I wonder if you are free next week? Say, Monday? You could come visit me at Ashley House again. We will have luncheon and I will introduce you to my good friend, the Countess of Ashley.”

“I will ask Papa if I may go to you. But I am free. I have no other engagements.” Cosette bit her bottom lip. “No other friends.”

“May I please have my book?” Zeph’s fingers twitched. She was growing apprehensive. She had to have it in her possession before the men appeared.

“Allow me.” Cosette raised a finger, then rose to cross the room, opened a drawer in a long chest, and marched back, the small red leather book in hand. “I never told Papa about it.”

“Merci beaucoup, Cosette. I knew you would care for it and I hoped you would keep its existence to yourself.”

“As you asked, I did.” She frowned. “I am not like my father. I have principles.”

Zeph breathed in relief.

“I did look at it,” Cosette remarked as she handed it over.

“Did you?” Zeph fanned the pages. None seemed to be torn out. She could read this book tonight after dinner and begin her transcription. Oh, the joy of that! Pressing it to her chest, she closed her eyes. Thrilled to hold this prize once more, she closed her eyes. She anticipated the bittersweet delight of revenge.

“What can be so important to you in that?” Cosette asked with an odd little laugh. “It is no more than numbers. Endless numbers.”

“I know. It is a puzzle. It amuses me.” But once I translate the numbers, I might have a powerful document. Dare she hope it could destroy the man who wrote it?

“You were always so good with arithmetic. I envy you. I wish I had such a skill.”

“You could become as skilled. Apply yourself each day and you can tally your own expenses and even your father’s accounts.” Zeph paused and slipped the little book into her reticule.

Cosette leaned toward her and whispered, “He would never allow that. You know…you know, don’t you, what he did? He stole money from the accounts of the government?”

“I had heard a rumor, oui. I knew it was the reason for your flight here to England. I am so sorry.”