Chapter 13

Chapter 13

They had tried to make conversation, but it was clear to Ethan that Miss Harper was uncomfortable with the situation. So was he. Mason had not told him that he would be leaving him alone with Miss Harper, while he took Miss Owen, unchaperoned, around London.

Likely because Mason knew Ethan wouldn't allow it.

The townhouse had grown awfully quiet until Miss Harper decided she would rather spend her time in front of the pianoforte. An instrument in which she was rather gifted. Ethan pretended to read a book, so that she would not notice that he hung on every note she played.

It was as if the melodies accompanied his thoughts, or perhaps his thoughts were swayed by the sound. She sat upright and played neatly, but he could hear the emotion in the music, as if it poured from somewhere deep within her.

It wasn't a terrible evening in the slightest. He loved the sound of the pianoforte, and Miss Harper's presence made him feel at peace. However, he did find himself worried about whether or not he was making a good impression on her.

Eventually, after playing her full repertoire through twice, Miss Harper sighed, and her shoulders slumped slightly. She was bored, an emotion Ethan didn't want associated with him.

"Miss Harper, would you care to accompany me on a stroll through the gardens?" he offered.

She glanced out the window where a light breeze made the leaves dance, and the birds kicked off in a bright song.

"That sounds lovely," she said. "Thank you."

Outside, he found that the fresh air did nothing to ease the awkward atmosphere between them. They didn't know each other very well, and without the chatter of a dinner party to comfort them, conversation wasn't coming easy to him.

"You play well," he said. "The pianoforte is my favorite instrument. I'm pleased I got to listen to it today."

"Thank you," she said politely. "I took up lessons as a child but don't often get the chance to play these days."

"That's a pity. When I was younger, my mother wanted me to play the violin. I went for lessons for two years. By the end of it I was unable to play a single melody. I'm not particularly musical, much to her disappointment."

Miss Harper let out a small chuckle. Even when she laughed, it sounded like the perfect composition. Ethan couldn't stop stealing glances in her direction. When she walked, it was as if she glided. Her head always remained perfectly balanced on her shoulders.

Her light hair was tucked back neatly, and her cheeks rosy from the breeze. It was difficult to remember that she was a lady's maid when she behaved like the most graceful lady he had ever seen. If he hadn't known better, she could have passed as a member of the royal family.

"I taught myself how to play," she confessed. "We never had money for formal lessons, but my mother had a pianoforte left to her by her grandmother. I spent hours in front of it while my parents worked. It was how I kept myself entertained until I was old enough to work."

"You're kidding." To Ethan, an achievement like that was near impossible. "Well, then you're an excellent teacher, too."

"My mother is a governess," Miss Harper explained. "She taught Miss Owen when she was growing up. Now, she is the governess for the children of the Preston family."

"That's a noble profession," he said. "My father still speaks fondly of his governess. Mine was rather strict, I'm afraid. She scared me as a child."

Miss Harper stopped to inspect a flower. It was the exact shade of blue as her dress. Ethan almost bent to pick her a few to take with her, but stopped himself. He needed to tread carefully. He was aware of how beautiful he found her, and how much he was starting to enjoy her gentle company.

That wasn't a good thing. It would get his heart broken. There was no world in which his mother would allow him to marry a lady's maid. As the son of a wealthy banker, he needed to marry for money.

"Well, your father's governess did an excellent job," Miss Harper said with a smile. "Look at his success. He's a smart man. He's right to be grateful for her."

"Perhaps the Prestons' son will go on to do something great with your mother's guidance as well," he said. "She certainly did an excellent job raising you."

Miss Harper smiled then, and it was as if everything in the world became sweeter. Another silence fell between them, but it was not as awkward as the first. Rather, it felt comfortable. They walked to the sunny side of the garden, where he invited her to join him on the bench.

"It feels odd going for a stroll like this without Miss Owen," Miss Harper said.

"I swear, I did not know of Mr. Alton's plans," he quickly explained. "If I had, I might have put an end to it."

"He strikes me as the kind of man who does this often." Miss Harper looked to the sky and toward the sun that had lowered.

"Unfortunately, yes," he explained. "We can expect a few more surprises in this endeavor."

He saw then how her eyes flickered with tension. She was partly responsible for Miss Owen and would likely pay a hefty price if it was known that she and Mason were roaming about without a chaperone. Ethan would have to have a word with Mason about it later.

Ethan eased her thoughts with stories from his youth. He wasn't sure why he felt compelled to share so much of his life with her, but she listened and laughed when appropriate. Miss Harper was good at polite conversation. Something he didn't often experience with Mason. When he spent time with Mason they often spoke of issues that were sensitive or taboo. Conversations that often left him feeling intense concerns, or with too much on his mind.

What had started as an awkward afternoon quickly turned into a pleasant escape from his usual day-to-day activities, and he found himself hoping it would last a moment longer.

***

Isabella felt sad when the carriage took off. It meant their day together had come to an end, and she would have to return to her usual life. Nothing in the world seemed more boring to her.

"What is it?" she asked after Mr. Alton glanced at her for the third time. "What's on your mind? Why all these sideways looks?"

"You've impressed me," he answered. "You were right about the barkeep. What made you think of that?"

"I read it in a book once," she said with a shrug.

Mr. Alton threw his head back with laughter. "Is there anything you haven't read in a book?"

"Evidence would suggest I am yet to learn how to attract a husband," she joked.

It felt good to get along with him. They had bickered a lot that day about various things, but he had also complimented her a few times in unexpected ways. Isabella had a hard time understanding just where she stood with Mr. Alton.

Did he enjoy her company? Or was she just a thorn in his side?

She couldn't be entirely sure. She did, however, care greatly about it. Every movement felt calculated in an attempt to get him to notice her again. It bothered her that she felt that way about him, too.

Isabella had prided herself in being the kind of woman who could not be made foolish by the presence of a man. Yet, she giggled at even the daftest of jokes that passed his lips. Every moment he looked away from her, she checked that her hair and skirt were still neat.

In her mind, that made her somewhat foolish. Especially when there was something more important at hand. Like solving the case of the gunman who had attempted to kill the Duke of Trent.

"It was a successful day, wasn't it?" she asked. "We found something out. What do you think of it all?"

"It sounds like a secret society gathering to me," Mr. Alton answered. "The code words, the secretive manner in which they speak, and the fact that they've chosen a meeting place where they wouldn't usually come together. It has all the makings of an order of sorts."

"Do you really think it could be so complicated?"

Mr. Alton sighed and brushed his hair back. "I don't think there's going to be anything about this that isn't complicated."

There was something in his tone of voice that made her think he was referring to more than just the investigation. When he looked at her again, it was as if he had looked right through her. She swallowed hard to push down her sudden bout of nerves.

He was like a breath of fresh air. He was hard and rugged, with a particular taste for adventure and dangerous places. A far cry from the soft, dandy men she usually spoke with. He seemed confident in himself, too.

As if he didn't mind that he was different from most men. He liked himself, and she found that impressive. She had always been different from the women she knew, but she had tried to keep that part of her hidden. So that she would not be cast aside by the world.

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with her. Isabella simply didn't want the same things other women did. It wasn't enough for her to simply find a decent husband and be a good mother. While there was nothing wrong with that, she wanted more.

"What will you do now?" she asked.

"I will keep searching for information," he answered. "I need to find out where this secret society meets. I'm afraid that part might be too dangerous for you to join me."

"Please, perhaps I could help."

"I couldn't take the risk," Mr. Alton said quickly. "When I agreed to let you assist me, I became responsible for your safety, too."

She wanted to argue with him further, but that was not how she intended to end their day together. There would be time for her to make her case another day. Right then, she wanted to remember the day on a good note.

Besides, she wanted to make sure that Mr. Alton was sure she was capable of the job.

"Where will you go?" she asked.

"There are a few places," he said. "But I must first consider the best options. I do not want to speak too soon. I have much to contemplate."

"I suppose you know those kinds of places better than I do," she added.

Mr. Alton smiled. "You seemed to fit in perfectly well."

That one she wasn't sure was a compliment. It sounded like one, but it shouldn't have been. What did it mean that she fit in well with rowdy sailors and burly soldiers? She brushed it off as they approached his manor. There would be another time to bring that up again.

Inside, Mr. Langley and Eliza were sharing a cup of tea. It seemed as if they'd had a quiet afternoon.

"Welcome back," Mr. Langley said. "I assume you learned something of value."

"Perhaps," Mr. Alton answered. "But there is something we must discuss."

Isabella sat and helped herself to a cup of tea, too. After all that work, she was desperate for it. Mr. Langley sighed, likely frustrated by Mr. Alton's handling of the day.

"Go ahead," Mr. Langley rushed him.

"If we're to continue on, we need a new way to communicate," Mr. Alton said. "We can't risk someone finding out that we're investigating."

"That seems fair. What did you have in mind?" Mr. Langley leaned back in his chair.

Mr. Alton eyed Mr. Langley and Eliza closely. "All communication will be passed through the two of you," he said. "If Miss Harper doesn't mind."

"Me and Mr. Langley?" she asked as her cheeks suddenly flushed.

"Yes."

It was agreed then. Isabella left with the instruction to wait for a message, sent through Eliza to let her know when they would meet again.