But the look didn’t come. Miss Barton simply nodded. “Should we draw up a contract? How often are you willing to spend an afternoon in my office?”

A contract? Definitely not. “I will sign no contract. I’ll do my best to help you, but it will have to be in my spare time. I’ll come when I am able, and you will need to accept that the arrangement is—at the very least—better than a drawing of me on your desk and a few poorly crafted lies.”

She tapped the edge of her pen on the corner of the paper in front of her. “It isn’t perfect, but it will do.” She stood from her desk and offered him her hand. His instinct was to kiss it, but her knuckles were turned to the outside. He chuckled. She was waiting for him to shake her hand.

From a kiss to a handshake. He took her hand, and she pumped it up and down.

Dealing with Miss Barton was going to be interesting at the very least.

Chapter 5

Diana stood outside the Richardsons’ doorway and smoothed down her dress. She had been living here since a few days after Mr. Richardson passed away, but it still didn’t feel like home. For the first time in weeks, Diana was able to arrive in the early evening instead of late at night. Mrs. Oliver had returned soon after Diana and Lord Bryant had reached an agreement, and the rest of the evening had been filled with work. Not a single suitor or investor graced her door after he left.

Diana had had a few good ideas in her lifetime, but she was beginning to think her scandal with Lord Bryant was one of the best.

Diana pushed on the front door and stepped into her temporary home. Mrs. Jenkins, the housekeeper, was halfway up the stairs but turned at the sound of the door opening. Her shoulders relaxed, and her lined face settled into a smile. “Miss Barton, thank goodness you are home.”

Diana peered up the stairway. “Is everyone all right?”

Mrs. Jenkins shrugged. “Everyone is as usual. They could certainly use some of your cheer to brighten their day.”

Diana took a deep breath and followed Mrs. Jenkins upstairs toward the nursery. Cheer. She grabbed her skirts and forced a bounce in her step. It had been a long day but not as long as most. She could muster up a bit more spirit for tea with the Richardson family.

In the first few weeks after moving into the Richardsons’ home, she and Charlotte had taken tea in the drawing room whenever Diana had arrived home in time. But they had never lasted through more than half a cup before one of the children wanted their mother. Since they always ended up there anyway, now they skipped that first unnecessary step and took tea in the nursery.

At least this evening she had gotten here before the children’s bedtime. Not that bedtime meant they would be asleep. Even when she came home well into the night, she would find Charlotte in the bedroom just off the nursery, curled up in a bed much too small for her with a young child.