Chapter Twenty

L ord Tobias Moran

The restaurant at the Stratham Hotel was packed full of patrons, the savory scent of food turning my nervous stomach. I hated being uncomfortable and courting a woman made me uncomfortable. Mrs. Ashton had been the one to introduce me to Elizabeth, and for a time, I was content. Until she left me for the colonel, who was the third son of a squire. I hadn’t taken Elizabeth for the social climbing sort. Apparently, I had been wrong.

I followed the concierge as he weaved through the tables and cursed my lateness. Mrs. Worth had distracted me. Again. Even thinking about her made me feel guilty, a very odd reaction, but there it was. She was my employee, not my love interest. I prayed the Engel cousins were agreeable sorts for Ash’s sake and mine. Like me, he needed to move on.

“Your party is in here.” The concierge led me into a smaller dining room lined with polished wood. Tall urns full of vivid green ferns reminiscent of Birdie’s eyes created an inviting atmosphere. Not Birdie, but Mrs. Worth, and she had no place in my thoughts. I was on the hunt for a wife, and I needed to stay focused.

Situated against the far wall were a row of private booths separated by curtains. The concierge led me past a booth whose curtains were partially open. My gaze locked on the man sitting at the table, and hate burned a hole in my stomach. Uncle Nigel’s eyes widened before he turned his head to look at his companion, giving me the cut direct. I curled my hands into fists, uncaring if the old prat hated me or not. The feeling was mutual. His companion inflamed me more. Reverend Brown, Jonah Stark’s grandfather and the head of the Brown Foundation, was dining with Nigel. Two closed-minded men who I hoped would burn in hell together.

My earlier good humor faded, which didn’t bode well for the luncheon. A woman being courted wanted someone engaging, not an enraged man hyper aware of the man who had single-handedly upended his father’s life because he was bitter that my mother had dared to pick my father over the duke. I wanted to confront my uncle, yet knew the folly of it. The past had to stay in the past for everyone’s sake.

Familiar laughter sounded before I spied Connie sitting at the head of the table, Ash and one lady were situated to her right, another lady at her left. While one was a blonde and the other a brunette, they had similar features. Of course they were cousins thus it made sense. If I had any chance of a future, I would forget my uncle and concentrate on my purpose for being there, to meet a prospective bride. I approached the table and the entire party turned their attention to me.

“Beg pardon, I am sorry I am late.” I hated being tardy on most occasions, but time often got away from me. It was a weakness of character on my part, but in my defense, I couldn’t very well meet a prospective bride with cat hair on my coat. Thank goodness Birdie had noticed. The rattling part was that I noticed Birdie a bit too much.

“Apology accepted.” Connie indicated I should sit next to the blonde—I assumed she was Mrs. Engel—and across from Ash and her cousin, another pretty and eligible woman. Since I was eleven, Connie had been like family to me. Ash had her eyes and coloring. Tall and plump, she had a kind air about her. “I was explaining to Mrs. Engel that you have a thriving publishing business,” Connie said.

“I am very excited to hear all about it,” Mrs. Engel smiled at me. A light of interest brightened her gaze, which boded well for the luncheon.

I nodded to Ash and tried to ignore my uncle for the moment. Not even Ash knew my family’s identity, and I wanted to keep it that way. His disdain for the aristocracy matched my own, both of us for different yet legitimate reasons.

“Moran, allow me to introduce Mrs. Engel and Miss Collin.” Connie nodded to each lady in turn. I offered a bow as was proper. Like Mrs. Engel, Miss Collin was fashionably attired in a grey dress with a high neckline. Unlike Mrs. Worth, neither was blessed with a plump bosom. Not that it should matter. I was looking for a practical wife with a sharp mind, which would trump any physical attraction.

“Mr. Ashton was just regaling us with his adventures at the Met.” Miss Collin stared at Ash with overt admiration. No doubt the ladies would consider his profession romantic despite the fact that he dealt with criminals all day. It was also dangerous, a constant worry for me.

I smiled in response, determined to engage with her, despite my continued awareness of my uncle’s presence in the same room, something that hadn’t happened in almost twenty years. I rarely dined in proper restaurants, preferring to eat at Ash’s house, or at the local pub down the street, places my uncle would never visit.

A waiter appeared and introduced himself before reading off the specials. I chanced another glance at Mrs. Engel, taking in the smooth line of her jaw. She smelled vaguely of flowers, not an unpleasant fragrance. Birdie’s citrus perfume carried a more enticing scent. Stop thinking about Mrs. Worth . I stared at the waiter, glad when he poured me a glass of red wine. With a nod, he handed the bottle to an omnibus boy standing discreetly off to the side.

“Inspector Ashton, please finish your tale.” Miss Collin laid her hand on his sleeve and fluttered her lashes coyly.

Ash merely offered a charming smile at the gesture. He had a way of wooing women that I envied. From what he had indicated, Mrs. Worth also thought he was charming, not a big surprise. Nor was the jealousy I felt just thinking about the two of them together without me. In a perfect world, I could take them both to bed. I stifled a laugh. Birdie would probably punch me for even suggesting something so outrageous. Not that I would, given our agreement to keep things on a professional keel after she saw me half-naked. Granted, she hadn’t turned away, which meant she wasn’t averse to me as a man.

“And for you, monsieur?” The waiter asked in a heavy French accent, his dark hair combed away from his forehead.

Caught woolgathering, I looked at Ash for assistance.

“He will have the same as the rest of our party.” Ash knew me well, and I was grateful he had agreed to come. By the way Miss Collin continued to quiz him, she liked him as well. The meeting boded well for my friend. Ash had never told his mother about Suzette, and she despaired that he would never find a wife. Today was the first time he agreed to meet someone, and his mother’s eager expression revealed how thrilled she was. I prayed he would find someone else and forget Suzette. Perhaps Miss Collin might be the one.

A movement from the other end of the room caught my attention, but I kept my gaze focused on Mrs. Engel. I wasn’t here to stew over Nigel but to find a prospective bride. “You and your cousin run a dress shop, and from what I understand, it is quite successful. Have you always had an affinity for fashion?”

“Indeed, I, oh my,” her eyes widened, and she leaned in to whisper, “Is that the Duke of Moreland?”

All heads turned in his direction save mine and Ash’s. I clenched my jaw, unable to stop the bitter anger. Ash stared at me, a frown marring his forehead. He inspected me for a long moment, and I resisted the urge to squirm in my seat. I was doing a poor job of holding back my upset, but hold back I must. He would no doubt be furious if he ever found out who I was.

“It would seem so.” I lifted my glass to hide my face and drank deeply. If he asked, I would simply repeat my mantra about hating the gentry. It was only a partial truth. I disliked my family in particular. But I disliked lying to Ash as well.

“How very exciting. I have never seen a duke.” Miss Collin straightened her shoulders, a touch of color to her cheeks. She beamed at Ash, laying her hand on his sleeve once more. “Although I have designed dresses for a few ladies.”

Connie watched the men with keen interest. “Do you know the man he was with?” she asked.

“His name is Reverend Brown.” The words came out through clenched teeth. The dour man dressed from head to toe in black looked daunting, his iron-grey hair combed in a conservative style. He might intimidate many, but I wouldn’t allow him to bully me.

Recognition lit Ash’s eyes. “That is Brown? Of course, that explains it.”

“Explains what?” I asked. Surely he hadn’t guessed the truth about my ties to Moreland? Ash was very intuitive thus it wasn’t surprising that he knew something was wrong with me.

“Your obvious upset.” Ash continued to study me, which added to my discomfort. Seeing Moreland was bad enough, but seeing him in Brown’s company was a hard slap in the face. I wouldn’t put it past the two men to conspire against me.

His mother scowled. “That is unfortunate. The Reverend is a bit of a fanatic, or so your father says.”

“Indeed, he is correct.” I took another sip of my wine, wishing to change the subject and quickly. Turning my attention to Mrs. Engel, I asked, “I am eager to hear more about your shop.”

The sound of cutlery and low voices drifted from behind me as Mrs. Engel began to speak. I tried to keep my attention on the conversation at hand and not on Ash’s foot which had made its way over to mine. With the toe of his shoe, he began to run it up my leg. I kicked it away, wishing to concentrate on her words.

The waiter returned with the food, and I lowered my head, pretending to be interested in the soup. While Mrs. Engel was engaging, our conversation paled in comparison to my discussions with Birdie. In the short time she worked for me, Birdie had made herself indispensable, and try as I might, I found it hard not to think about her constantly. Ash laughed at something Miss Collin said, and I glanced at him. He caught my eye, a mischievous gleam in his stare. And then there was Ash. He fired my blood with a mere glance, our passions forever bound to each other. But passion and friendship weren’t enough for me.

Between Ash’s antics and the thoughts of Mrs. Worth, the encounter with Mrs. Engel was less than stellar. It wasn’t her fault, but my own. Seeing Moreland and Brown still rattled me, even though I told myself not to fall into the bitterness I carried for both men.

Angling my head in her direction, I kept a smile of interest pasted on my lips. Moreland be damned, he had no place in my life. Mrs. Engel had everything I wanted in a wife, except a spark was missing. I could blame Ash or Birdie, but the only one I had to blame was myself. If I were to move on, I needed someone dynamic to capture my attention.

No matter the slow start, I would give Mrs. Engel a chance. Time was on my side. Except it wasn’t. I wanted to find a wife sooner rather than later. The timing couldn’t be better to marry. Once I found the right woman, I was one step closer to my dream of having a family to call my own.

Was Mrs. Engel that woman? I met her animated gaze. Like Mrs. Worth, she had green eyes, but they lacked the sparkle Birdie’s always seemed to have. Frustration continued to dog me but for a different reason. As much as I didn’t wish to notice, no other woman thus far seemed to eclipse my growing obsession with my secretary. The only thing I could do was use restraint and remember my promise to keep our relationship professional.

It sounded wonderful in theory. In practice, I wasn’t so sure.