The Unquiet - J. D. Robb [48]
“Why would someone try to steal the recipe, Grandmama? It would be easy enough to name the thief once he began to use the color.”
“Perhaps he hoped to ruin you. Your reputation could be considered of great value. You are a single woman with your own business, a successful one. In fact, now that your mourning is over, more men than a bully like Nesbitt would be interested in you if you would give them encouragement.”
Lydia stood up. This was going down a familiar path, and she answered as she always did. “I am not interested in sharing anything with a man, Grandmama.” Lydia did her best to ignore the image of Mr. Chase.
“You are too young to sleep alone forever. Tell me what this man who rescued you was wearing.”
“Grandmama, it was dark, I could not see him.”
“What did it feel like?”
“A tightly woven, very fine wool. Perfect for a wet night. His greatcoat was made of a heavier wool.”
Natalia nodded. “He wore it well?”
Lydia rolled her eyes at the unsubtle question.
“Do not roll your eyes, girl. I am shut up with my imagination all day and little to fuel it. Have pity on me.”
Lydia smiled and hoped Natalia could sense her affectionate amusement as easily as she could sense her exasperation. “He was tall and had broad shoulders.”
“Not fat, like the Regent?”
Lydia thought of the feel of him as he pressed her protectively behind him, sat next to her, held her hand. “No, not at all.”
“So will he call to see if you are all right?”
“If he does, I promise I will introduce you.” Lydia kissed Natalia good night and left her with Delphie to see her to bed.
Once she was in the parlor, Lydia went directly to the window that looked onto the street. Yes, there was a man under the lamppost, arms folded, a white scarf tied loosely around his neck over his bulky coat. Her guardian. No matter what Mr. Chase’s motive was, for now she felt more secure.
Lydia took her glass of vodka and drank it in one revolting swallow, hoping it would help her sleep. Dreamlessly.
THREE
“I met a woman named Mrs. Chernov this evening,” Chase announced as the night porter showed him into Tibold’s card room. “Do any of you know anything about her?”
The three men looked up from their cards.
“Do you have a timepiece, Chase? We’ve been waiting almost an hour.” Tibold did not wait for an answer and returned his attention to his cards.
Chase had never met a man who complained more than Tibold.
“There’s that shop near the Bull Ring.” Bellwood looked back at his cards. “Could this Mrs. Chernov be married to the owner?”
“Chernov Drapers.” Griffin straightened. “Yes, I know it. My mother and sister love the place.”
Chase took a seat and waited for them to finish the hand they were playing. The pile of coins was modest, but the evening was young.
“Thank you, my man,” Tibold said as he pulled the coins to his side of the table. “I think Bellwood could have won that hand.”
Bellwood swore as Griffin began to shuffle the cards.
“So what do you know about Mrs. Chernov, Bellwood?”
“Not a thing other than she is a beauty and a widow.”
“I learned that much for myself.”
“In which case, she might be interested in some consolation,” Griffin suggested, as he finished dealing the cards. He looked at the others. “Care to wager how long before he beds her?”
“Do you see that scar near my eyebrow, Griff?” Chase picked up his cards but did not look at them.
All three glanced at him and then at the scar and waited.
“That convinced me never to bet on anything so personal, and to discourage it in others.”
Bellwood nodded. Tibold snickered.
“And what does that mean?” Chase asked, turning his head slowly to stare at Tibold.
“Only that one hardly expects such niceties from a man with your reputation for betting on everything and anything.”
“Yes, I do see your point.” Chase relaxed. “If I hadn’t made that foolish wager with Cummings, I would not be stuck in this benighted place for three months.”
“Only two months to go, Chase,” the always-cheerful Griffin reminded him.
“Thank you, Griff.”
“Benighted? You don’t like