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He chuckled. “He’s my favorite writer, and I thought you might like to read some of his work. Or have you read him already?”
“I haven’t. This is very kind, but I can’t accept it.”
“Of course you can.” He lowered his voice. “It’ll give me an excuse to write to you. I leave in a few days, but naturally I’ll want to know what you thought about my favorite writer, so I’ll send a letter when I reach home soil. You’ll respond, all very formally, of course. Then I’ll write again and before you know it, we’ll be regular correspondents.” He said it with such effortless charm it didn’t feel unduly forward. Coming from another man, it would have been oily.
There was a commotion at the front door as a guest stormed inside and demanded to see the manager. Mr. Hobart appeared from goodness knows where to see why he was required, and Uncle Ronald joined them.
I was too distracted to give Mr. Miller his gift back before he bowed politely and walked off with his uncle.
I sighed and tucked the book into my bag. I was about to head outside, past the guest venting his frustration in hushed tones to Mr. Hobart and Uncle Ronald, when I spotted Miss Hessing emerging from the lift, alone. She smiled when she saw me.
“Good morning, Miss Fox. What a lovely day.”
“Is it? I haven’t been outside yet. You look cheerful in that shade of yellow, Miss Hessing. And, may I say, that hat is fetching. Is it new?”
“I bought it just the other day to go with this outfit. I’m so pleased you like it. I’m trying out some new designs. There’s a dressmaker we found in Bond Street who understands my tastes so well.”
It gladdened me to see her shed her dowdy outfits for something pretty and modern. With her mother’s style tending to the garish end of the scale, Miss Hessing often compensated by going to the other extreme. She hid herself in ill-fitting dresses in plain colors. Where her mother wanted to be noticed, Miss Hessing wanted to blend in. She blended in so well that she almost disappeared, if one didn’t look hard. It was wonderful to see her come out of her shell. I was quite sure Mr. Liddicoat’s attentions were to thank for that.
If he were to suddenly disappear from her life, she’d be devastated. And yet if he was after her for her fortune, she needed to know.
Miss Hessing glanced around then leaned closer to me. “My mother has gone out, so I’m going to meet Mr. Liddicoat now. Would you like to walk with us?”
The question may have been asked out of politeness, but I wasn’t going to say no to the opportunity. “Thank you, that will be a very pleasant way to spend ten minutes or so.”
Her smile didn’t waver, proving she hadn’t simply asked out of politeness, after all.
We slipped through the front door just as Uncle Ronald ordered Goliath to go to the mews to see why Cobbit was late collecting the guest and his luggage. I nodded a greeting to Mr. Hobart, but he was too busy reassuring the guest that he would reach the station on time to make his train.
We joined Mr. Liddicoat, waiting some feet away. He greeted us both amiably while reserving most of the warmth for Miss Hessing. Perhaps my constant questions about his cousin cooled his opinion of me. If that were the case, I was about to turn down the temperature even more.
I waited for the pleasantries to be over, and we reached the edge of Green Park. “I saw you at the Elms Polo Club yesterday, Mr. Liddicoat, cheering on your cousin. You’re a great admirer of his.”
His eyes brightened at the mention of Mr. Broadman. “Rufus has a lot of admirable qualities.”
“Is that why you’re moving in together? Because you like one another’s company?”
He blinked at me. “We’re moving in together because it makes sense for us to share the cost of lodgings.” His gaze shifted to Miss Hessing then back to me. They sported twin frowns as they regarded me. “Clare knows our plans, and why. As do you, I see.”
“Mr. Broadman told me.”
“It’s not a secret.”
Miss Hessing looped her arm through his. “It is where my mother is concerned. She doesn’t know, so please don’t tell her, Miss Fox. She’ll jump to the wrong conclusion.”
“Mrs. Hessing is a resourceful and clever woman. She might find out.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Wouldn’t it be best just to tell her yourself?”
Mr. Liddicoat raised his brows at Miss Hessing. Clearly they’d had this discussion, with her urging him not to say anything to her mother.
“She’ll think I’m a fortune hunter if I keep it a secret,” he said, as if picking up a conversation they’d just left off.
“She’ll think that anyway if she finds out,” Miss Hessing countered. “Perhaps she won’t find out.” She sighed, not believing her own words.
Mr. Liddicoat was right. It would be better coming from them rather than hearing it from Harry. And Harrywouldtell Mrs. Hessing. He felt obliged to.
