The Unquiet - J. D. Robb [55]
“But how can he stay in business if he is so unreliable?” She shook her head, that being the least important of the dozen questions that came to mind. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Chase, but as a shopkeeper I am appalled that anyone would be so irresponsible. It is very bad for business.”
“Yes, but we have established that Nesbitt has other sources of income. And he is also fortunate to have an apprentice who is five times the butcher Nesbitt is.”
“Then, in fact, we are no better off now than we were before your friend found the shop.”
FIVE
“We,” Chase thought. She had said, “We.” What was her Christian name? Thank the great and good she was a widow. Chase had thought her pretty last night by the scant light of gas lamps. If he had seen her in full light for the first time, he would have realized pretty did not do her justice. He thought a moment. Hers was a quiet beauty of which he was becoming more and more aware. Yes, quiet beauty was entirely accurate.
He cleared his throat again. “We have made progress. Fortunately for us, his apprentice enjoys talking. With the apprentice’s help, my friend learned Nesbitt’s direction and the places where he usually spends his day when he is not in his shop. The boy even agreed to send word when Nesbitt returns if we are not able to find him sooner.”
Mrs. Chernov nodded and her body lost some of the tension he had feared was due merely to his presence. Chase decided that we was fast becoming his favorite word.
“In any case, until we are able to find Nesbitt and are sure he has been convinced to find other interests, I will have my men and boys remain on watch to assure myself of your safety.”
She closed her eyes and he realized that the allure radiating from her eyes was the key part of her loveliness. He had not been able to see her golden blond hair last night or the lovely face framed by eyes of such amazing green that, when she closed them as she just had, his world dimmed a bit. He suspected that the rest of her, now covered in a gown of the most perfect shade of lavender, was every bit as alluring as her eyes. Face it, Chase, he said to himself. You are well on your way to playing the fool.
She opened her eyes and his world brightened.
“I wish I could say it was not necessary, Mr. Chase, but if I did not worry for myself, I have Grandmama to think of and the servants.”
“Yes, you do, and I’m relieved that you are being sensible.”
“Oh, Mr. Chase, if there is one thing I have learned how to be, it is sensible. Or perhaps prudent is the better word.”
He wanted the story, the whole miserable story, of how she learned that prudence was the better impulse.
She straightened and her eyes took on a stern cast. “Before we pursue this incident any further, Mr. Chase, I must know something.”
He nodded, willing to tell her his deepest secret if it meant her eyes would brighten again.
“Those boys who were on guard this morning—who are they and how are they related to you?”
“Not by blood but by friendship, for I have not yet married,” he answered promptly.
“A little less cryptic an explanation, if you please.” Her expression was as severe as an annoyed governess’s. One did not need to be married to have children. Was that what she thought? he wondered.
“They are being tutored by a man who is educated and understands their needs. He is willing to allow them an adventure when the need arises.”
“How odd. Where are their parents?” Mrs. Chernov said, raising a hand to her cheek.
“I have no idea.” And that was the complete truth, but he thought he’d best leave before he was compelled to lie. “For now I bid you good day.” He took her hand and bowed over it, wanting to press a kiss to the wrist or her palm but staying himself. His prudence, a virtue he rarely practiced, was going to be tested.
He paused at the door because he could not resist one last question. “Mrs. Chernov, what is your Christian name?”
She shook her head a little and pointed to the bolts of cloth behind her, an array of shades of purple that were the