Page 75 of The Fortune Hunter’s Gamble

“All of them,” Rowden said.

Meggett’s smile turned amazed. “All of them?”

“The depiction of his son and heir as an opium eater will, as you might imagine, distress my Uncle Denford. I would not wish to cause him trouble on the heels of the happy news of my cousin’s engagement.”

“Er, yes. I can imagine.” Meggett’s expression revealed his mind shifting into new patterns of calculation.

Sophronia had freely laid down coin for the prints and plate of Rowden when she thought she was a rich widow who had plenty of funds at her disposal. She was now closer to one of those saddest of circumstances: a poor widow, left to be a burden on her friends and family. “Rowden,” she whispered, “I do not expect⁠—”

“Twenty pounds for the lot.” Rowden laid four white banknotes on the counter. “They are all payable by Hinton’s bank, which you will find just across the street.”

Meggett’s eyes widened, giving him the look of an alarmed owl. “Would you like the plate as well, Mr. Rowden?”

“You said you wouldn’t sell it,” Sophronia said indignantly.

“Ah, but as you pointed out, miss, we shouldn’t wish to make the Baron Denford unhappy with us. Zebedee Meggett aims to please, madam.” Deftly he slid the banknotes off the counter into a locked box beneath, nodding his head in approval. “My Alexander will be out in a moment with the prints and plate, Mr. Rowden, just you see. He’s a sharp, quick boy, my Alexander, and I hope you will always remember Zebedee Meggett as an honest businessman, sir, who aims to please the public.”

Sophronia stepped closer to Rowden. “I do not think I can afford⁠—”

“I am paying for them, Ro.”

“Oh.” She halted, confused. “But why?”

“For the reasons you said. My uncle won’t like them.” His mouth tightened. “I don’t like them.”

Sophronia nodded. “We must find a way to stop him partaking so much. He must think of his future, and Lily’s.”

“I will remind him, but I fear the boy’s control over his impulses is not commendable. We must ensure that opium simply never comes in his way.”

“That will not be easy,” Sophronia said. Opium was available in any chemist’s shop and apothecary, and came mixed into any number of medicines that Giles relied upon to ease his frequent stomach pains and other complaints.

“We must try.” Rowden took the cloth bag that the younger Meggett, with an ingratiating smile, handed over the counter to him.

“I agree.”

Sophronia slipped her hand in the crook of his arm as they exited the shop, feeling a wave of warmth suffuse her limbs. Rowden had swooped in to protect her, again. How very uncommon it was for Sophronia to have a champion. She might come to enjoy the honor.

Or rely on it.

They exited the shop to find Mr. Keeling conversing with Mr. Foster. That man had the most unearthly ability to locate Rowden at any given moment. The government must have an extraordinary network of spies.

Keeling grinned as he spotted the bag and guessed at Rowden’s intent. “Don’t wish for jokes to circulate at your cousin’s expense?”

“In the event that my uncle must be persuaded to allow Miss Westall to accept my cousin’s hand, which he is inclined to give her, I don’t wish to have more fuel to add to his pique. The Baron is of a choleric disposition, I think you know.”

Foster nodded. “Good to have Giles settled before you leave. You’ll have nothing back home to worry about, and Grenville thinks this assignment might take a while.”

Sophronia halted. “How long do you expect Rowden to be away?”

Foster shrugged. “No one can say, Mrs. Hinton. There are so many factions arising, all in conflict with one another, it will be a task to turn enough of them to British allies.” He touched a finger to the brim of his hat with an embarrassed smile. “I shouldn’t say so much to one not in the business. Your lady is uncommonly easy to talk to, Rowden. You ought to consider bringing her along to help with your work.”

The men chatted, then parted, and Rowden tugged Sophronia toward the mews where they had left Nate and the coach that would bear them on their other errands for the day. One thought rose above the crowded contemplations in Sophronia’s mind over her uncertain future and Bint’s possible treachery.

Rowden had only become close to her because they were working toward the same end—getting Giles safely settled—and now that this end was achieved, he would return to his customary habits of travel and adventure. She couldn’t tell him she loved him when he was about to leave, for when might he return?

And what might happen to change his feelings for her while he was gone? What if she had missed her chance, again, to claim him for her own?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN