“It is like watching one of your sculptures come to life, isn’t it?”

Serena screamed and jumped at least a foot, her heart thudding against her ribs to get out. She whipped around, her hand clutching her chest.

“I apologize, Mrs. Lombard. Did I startle you?” McElroy did not sound sorry. He sounded amused. “I must admit I was surprised to find you out here at this time of night. Especially after such an arduous day.”

She did not hear only humor in his voice, but skepticism. What could she say? He had caught her gawking at a half-naked man.

So she stated the obvious. “I could not sleep.”

He took a step closer. “Perhaps I might help you with that.”

Serena could scarcely believe she had heard him correctly. But his arrogant smirk and hooded eyes told her she had.

She gave him a freezing look.

“Ah,” he said, his smile growing harder. He turned his gaze back to the window and she was glad to follow. They watched Lockheart pound the bag without ceasing.

“This is some sort of pugilistic training?” she finally asked, deciding to forget his lapse in manners.

He nodded but did not look away from the window. “It is the type of thing men of your class play at in places like Jackson’s Salon, except this is the real thing.”

The derision in his words made her bristle. “What do you know of my class, Mr. McElroy?”

This time he did turn to her, his smile as mocking as his words. “Oh come now, Mrs. Lombard, your husband was the son of a duke. You can scarcely marry much higher.”

Serena supposed it was arrogance that had led her to believe men of the merchant class would not know of her lineage.

McElroy chuckled, as if she’d spoken out loud. “Oh yes, I make it my business to know who Gareth associates with, even if he doesn’t.”

“Mr. Lockheart knows of my connections.”

“Connections like your cousins Leeland and Sandford Featherstone?”

Serena ground her teeth. “Cousins by marriage.”

“By marriage,” he agreed.

“Yes, he knows.” Serena found his smug, knowing tone annoying. “If you are so keen on keeping up with your business partner’s associates, why didn’t you warn him about the Featherstones?”

“I said I made it my business to know about his associates, not to make his decisions for him.” He shrugged. “Featherstone is a small-time operator. He was skimming from Gareth, but he was also providing a service Gareth believed necessary. I’m afraid my friend has a bee in his bonnet about the need for a genteel setting in which to wine and dine the men who make the laws the rest of us are supposed to abide by.”

“Mr. Lockheart told me it was you who put the bee in his bonnet, Mr. McElroy.”

His eyebrows arched high and the look he gave her was speculative, rather than just accusing. “Did he? It is unlike Gareth to confide such matters—or even have them in his head to discuss them. It would seem he has taken an uncommon shine to you.”