Page 12 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
4
According to the reports from the man Elliot had paid to watch Mrs. Pennyworth’s front steps, no packages had been left after the two of them had attended the poetry reading. Tonight, he would accompany her to the assembly where, hopefully, he would meet more people. The atmosphere at the Assembly would be much more conducive to watching men, and how they interacted with his client.
So far, nothing led him to the conclusion that Mrs. Pennyworth was in any sort of physical danger. Aside from the dead bird, there had been nothing else sinister. The man harassing her could merely be someone too shy to approach her on a normal, social basis. Although, leaving a dead bird hardly seemed conducive to romance.
He straightened his tie as he sounded the knocker on her front door. Bubbly and friendly Bridget greeted him. “Good evening, Mr. Baker. The mistress has requested we put you in the library, where you may avail yourself of some brandy while you wait.”
“Good evening to you, as well.” He removed his hat and followed the young girl down the corridor. The library led him to believe someone thoroughly enjoyed reading. The floor to ceiling shelves were almost ninety percent full. A quick perusal of the books showed them placed according to category, and then alphabetical, by author.
He strolled to the sideboard and poured about two fingers of brandy, then, taking light sips, he wandered the room, pulling out a book, flipping through the pages. He turned at the sound of the door opening and inhaled sharply through his teeth.
Yes, this assignment would be the death of him. His client looked like a goddess in a deep blue silk gown that clung to her form in tantalizing ways. Her hair was piled up in such a way that teasing curls escaped, resting against her smooth, creamy cheeks.
“Good evening, Mrs. Pennyworth.” He managed to get the words out, despite the sudden dryness in his mouth. “You look enchanting.” Enchanting was not the proper word, but he would find himself justifiably slapped in the face if he used the ones that were truly on his mind.
“Thank you.” She seemed pleased, her smile gentle, her eyes sparkling, then she stiffened as if remembering something unpleasant. Raising her chin she said, “I am ready to depart.”
“Of course.” He crossed the room and followed her to the doorway where she accepted her cloak from a man Elliot had not seen before. Before he could offer his arm, she was out the door, and attempted to maneuver the steps herself until it became apparent her gown was not going to permit it.
Trying not to smirk, unaware of what game she was playing, he extended his arm. “May I be of assistance?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Once they settled in the carriage and he knocked on the ceiling to alert the coachman to proceed, he rested his foot on his bent knee and regarded her. “How many generally attend this event?”
Mrs. Pennyworth grabbed the strap hanging from the wall next to her as the carriage hit a nasty bump in the road. “Having been in mourning for a year, it has been some time since I attended, but if memory serves, I would say about a hundred people.”
“This should give me a good opportunity to observe the gentlemen attending. Please try to introduce me to as many as possible. I still believe the timing of the package arrivals is connected to your social life.”
“Yet, nothing was left the morning after the poetry reading.” Her voice was muted in the dim light. With the fog swirling around the outside of the carriage, they seemed to be cocooned in their own world. Safe and protected.
“Perhaps your tormentor had not attended.”
“True.” She glanced away from him, then back again. “There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.”
He nodded for her to continue.
“Mrs. Blanchard informed me that you stopped by the other day while I was away from home.”
Since that was a statement and not a question, he merely continued to study her, her words requiring no rejoinder.
“In the future, I would prefer to be present when you question my servants.” Two red dots appeared on her lovely cheeks, and her small chin rose as she waited for his reply.
“Of course. I had not visited your home with the intention of questioning anybody, but I do need to know about your household, new servants, etc.”
“I agree. However, going forward, I would prefer if you direct your questions to me, and if you need to speak with one of my staff, I wish to be present.”
“Surely, it is not your intention to hire me for a job and then proceed to tell me how to conduct it?”
“No, I just feel that it is my prerogative to be at hand when you speak with my staff.” Her face flushed a delightful pink, and she refused to look him in the eye.
Bells went off in his head.What the devil is she hiding?Of course, she had the right to insist on being present when he questioned her staff, but something about her attitude put him on alert. He tried to tell himself it was because he was generally careful about new clients, but his more cynical side told him she was hiding something.
Like most women.
He did not want to get caught up in another debacle and open himself up to becoming a fool. His light-hearted mood upon leaving the house earlier vanished with their conversation. Then, he realized there was no reason to be disturbed.
What if shewashiding something? She only hired him to learn who was leaving packages at her door and make them stop. That was all he intended to do. He had no reason to further entangle himself with Mrs. Pennyworth, and he was well advised to remember that.
