Heiress in Red Silk by Hunter, Madeline (best mystery novels of all time TXT) 📗

to do. Her errand was better accomplished on foot anyway.

“If you have the cabriolet brought around, I will drive the lady.”

She turned toward the voice. “Oh. It is you.”

Kevin Radnor made a faint bow.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to come down.”

“I be thinking we have spent enough time in each other’s company this week, do you not agree?”

“I agree that I was not gracious or friendly, if that is what you mean.”

His admission made her pause. Men usually did not admit to being wrong. That he did so disarmed her.

“You will not find me errands of any interest to you. Most will be better done on foot.”

“Then I will drive you to where you must walk.”

The butler had already sent for the carriage. She could think of no way to get rid of Mr. Radnor without being ungracious and unfriendly herself. She did not object when he accompanied her outside.

“That is a very attractive bonnet,” he said.

He was only flattering her, but she touched its brim and could not stop a small smile.

“Is it one of yours?”

“I always wear me own creations.”

“The colors suit your ensemble, and you. Do you design like that with your patrons as well?”

“I do.” She launched into an explanation of how different faces required different shaped brims, and some women looked lovely with thin ties under the chin while others were flattered by broad ones. He seemed to be paying attention, but as the carriage pulled up in front of them she wondered if he was truly listening.

“I have it in me mind to go to Oxford Street,” she said. “To see if there be shops to let.”

He got the horse moving. “You intend to open a shop in London?”

“Possibly.”

“What about your shop in Richmond?”

“I may keep that one too. It all depends on what I learn in the next few days.”

“Chase said you think to live here in Town.”

“That also depends on what I learn.” She would have to remember that those two were cousins, and Chase would probably tell Kevin most anything he wanted to know.

“Shouldn’t you be looking at homes to let instead of shops?”

She wondered if he was going to offer unwelcome advice all day. “First I am going to look at some shops, if that be acceptable to you.”

He turned onto Oxford Street and stopped the carriage. He tied up the reins, passed a boy a coin to watch the conveyance, then helped her down.

“Thank you, I can manage now,” she said hopefully. “I will hire a hackney to get meself back.”

“I will accompany you so you are not walking the streets alone. Town is unsettled these days, and not safe. Besides, I have never shopped for a shop before.”

There were not any street-level shops available in the area she wanted, but she found a few on cross streets. She bent close to the windows of one a few feet down Gilbert Street to peer in. Then she walked around the corner back onto Oxford and strolled down, angling her head to look up.

Beside her, Kevin Radnor did the same thing. “What are we looking for?”

“Space above that be available, like this one here.” She stopped below a window that had a “To Let” sign in it. The shop was on the second story.

“Most women’s shops in London be up like that,” she said, more to herself than to him. “It be cheaper, of course. However . . .” She stepped back and examined the shop below, at street level. It sold jewelry. “It also be more private. A woman enters a door and becomes invisible until she emerges. No one peers at her while walking past the window. The question—” She walked back around the corner, then crossed the side street to see what would be noticeable when one walked by on Oxford.

Kevin Radnor followed her like a shadow. “The question is what?”

“Is one at an advantage having a shop on the street or a disadvantage? In Richmond I have me own at street level, and having wares visible to passersby brings new patrons me way. The milliner’s shop where I worked in the City did as well. However, in Mayfair the modistes and milliners might be up there for reasons besides the cost of letting. A more public establishment might be looked down upon. I don’t suppose you know if street level be considered too common here?”

“I don’t buy women’s things, so how would I know?”

“Lots of men buy women’s things, Mr. Radnor. I daresay you be an unusual gentleman if you never have.”

“Oh. You mean for mistresses and such. I don’t buy gifts like that.”

She had to smile. “You said you have never been enthralled and now you claim to have never had a mistress or lover for whom you bought gifts. Are you a monk?”

He looked her right in the eye. “Hardly.”

For a moment, while their gazes connected, she saw a different Kevin Radnor. Smoldering more than brooding. Frankly sensual. It surprised her that he revealed himself in such a way, until she recognized that what she really witnessed was masculine interest. In her.

She was not prepared for that from this man. Nor did she expect her own reaction. His hooded, piercing gaze compelled her attention in spite of herself and evoked warm little trembles in her body.

He gestured to the shop. “Whatever is normally done, I would think a lady would prefer not to walk up two sets of stairs. Just because something is not commonplace does not mean it can never happen.”

“I will ask Minerva about this, but you may have the right of it. Why should women have to climb stairs to buy a bonnet or dress?” She began walking back to the carriage, all too aware of Kevin Radnor in stride beside her.

* * *

The man who represented building owners was waiting outside when Kevin brought the carriage to a stop in front of the house on Chapel Street. Kevin took in the façade while he tied the reins. It