“Then my assignment is over.” Chase stood. “Do you want to keep the notes, or should I remove them.”
“I will hold them for a while if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind. I make copies of all of my notes. Good day to you.” He turned to make his escape.
“Radnor.”
He turned.
“You are very clever.”
Since that did not sound like a compliment either, Chase just left.
* * *
Minerva paced. Chase was now three hours late. He had warned her, but she still experienced an agony of impatience.
They had planned a full afternoon that with each passing minute became less likely to be realized. First, they were going to look at carriages she might purchase. Then, she intended to return to Madame Tissot and order some new garments. Visions of fine wood and brass, of soft wool and silks had danced in her head all morning, only to be dashed when Brigsby arrived with the news Chase would be delayed.
“Look who is here,” Beth had announced, bringing the manservant to the library without ceremony. “Mr. Radnor’s valet.”
“As I have explained, I am not a valet, even if those are among the duties I execute. Nor am I here as the manservant I am.”
“No? Then why do we have this rare honor?” Beth asked.
“I am here as one of Mr. Radnor’s agents.”
Beth burst out laughing. “Minerva, he is one of Mr. Radnor’s agents now. Aid him in his inquiries, do you? I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Brigsby ignored her. “Miss Hepplewhite, I have come with a message. Mr. Radnor will be delayed some hours. An important matter, an urgent one, claimed him just moments before he was to leave his chambers to come here.”
“Don’t sound like an associate to me,” Beth said. “You sound like a messenger.”
“Messengers are not entrusted with such as this, that pertain to important inquiries. Only agents are.”
“Call it what you like, I know a donkey when I see one.”
Brigsby did not miss that Beth had come close to calling him an ass. Minerva thanked him and sent him home.
Now she waited. Something was happening. Something important. She would go mad if Chase did not come soon to tell her what it was.
He did not arrive until close to six o’clock. He let himself in before she reached the door. He took one look at her and raised both hands in a calming gesture. “All is well. I was called to the Home Office. The official finding will be an accidental death.”
“That is not possible. We both know—”
“That will be the official finding, Minerva. I am not inclined to argue the point. Are you?”
The owner of Hepplewhite’s Office of Discreet Inquiries most definitely wanted to challenge this finding. The woman who was once suspected of murder realized it was a gift. With no one looking for the person responsible for the duke’s death, no one would decide she was an excellent suspect.
“Do we simply pretend it was indeed an accident?”
“For now. Should other information present itself, however, I am duty-bound to pursue it.”
“For now might last forever, I suppose.”
“It won’t, trust me.” He fell onto the divan and pulled her down into his lap. “For now, however, I am setting it aside. I have other things occupying my mind, and distracting me from inquiries.”
“You will save all your lists and notes and such, I hope. Just in case they are needed.”
“Only if you save yours.”
She laughed, because they both knew she had no notes. She pecked his nose with a kiss. “What has been distracting you?”
“You have. My entire performance on this inquiry has not been up to my own standards because of you. I think about you all the time. I desire you constantly. Had that not been happening, you would have never bested me when it came to learning Kevin was not in France, for example.”
“So you say. I wonder if you are not using me as an excuse to salve your pride that I did best you.”
He kissed her, but his mouth smiled in the middle of it. “Perhaps.”
The kiss lingered long enough that her blood sparkled. “It is too late to purchase a carriage or wardrobe.”
“We will do it tomorrow.”
“That leaves us with nothing much to do now.” She kissed him again. “How ever will we fill the time?”
“With a necessary conversation.”
“That sounds serious.”
“It is, but hopefully not in a bad way. I have been thinking about us, and our inquiries, and our different methods. You do not want a formal partnership, but we can form an alliance that is not formal. There will be times when you will want a man to speak with someone, for example.”
“Such as another man?”
“There will be some who will never take your questions seriously, and there will be others who won’t even hear them. You know I am right about this.”
“You would do that for me? As my employee?”
“I do not take employment. My thinking is we would share any inquiry that requires us both. We would consult on strategy and tactics, and divide up what to do. That will be more efficient, and also be twice as fast.”
“It sounds a lot like a partnership, no matter what you call it.”
“I am sure there will be inquiries in which I will not be useful, so you would conduct those on your own.”
She could not think of any kind of inquiry in which he would not be at least somewhat useful. The idea of a partnership had not set well with her when he proposed it, but now . . . She was sure it did not hold appeal only because it would ensure she would see him with continued frequency, although that played a role in her reconsideration.
“It sounds complicated,” she said. “Perhaps in the days ahead we should talk about whether we should forge a more formal alliance. If you promise not to become the officer commanding the troops, I might agree to that.”
He turned very serious. His embracing arm tightened. “If I had my way, I would be proposing the most formal alliance possible, Minerva, even knowing that with your new situation you have no use for it. I have accepted you will never agree to that, however, and understand why.”
He looked at her warmly. Wistfully. Her own emotions turned poignant. “I have thought about it,” she said quietly. “You are not the only one who has been distracted.”
“If I tell you that I treasure you, that I love you to the point of not only distraction but madness, would it make a difference? Because I do, darling. I will swear to anything you want, if it will encourage you to continue thinking about it.”
His declaration caused tears to well up in her. She had made a terrible mistake once when facing this choice, but she was no girl now, and this man was no enigma. This would not be a practical marriage, or one she needed for security. It would be a love match, with a man she already trusted with her body and her heart.
And yet—that old shadow had not completely faded. She could not deny she would lose much if she did this. She gazed deeply into his eyes, while her mind weighed it all.
“Would you swear to never play the army officer, in any way, with me or mine?”
He smiled. “You have my word as a gentleman. Should I ever forget, I am sure you will remind me of this moment.”