If whatever hole Mrs. Oliver had been living in could open up and swallow Diana, she would welcome it. “Lord Bryant and I have already discussed his portrait. We are all in agreement that it wasn’t well done.”

Lord Bryant spoke up. “Oh, come, Diana, I never said it wasn’t well done.”

Now it was her turn to be incredulous. “I’m quite certain you did.”

“I only said the nose wasn’t quite right.”

That sounded a lot like a criticism to her.

“Is that why you took it away?” Mrs. Oliver asked. “I’m sure she misses it. She used to pull it out all the time, especially when she was speaking of you. There was even a day last week where a particularly handsome young man came in. But she wouldn’t give him the time of day. She pulled out your portrait and—”

Oh no, she knew where this was going. That was not her proudest moment. She had listed Lord Bryant’s features one by one in praise. It hadn’t been hard for her; there were many praiseworthy features to list. But the last thing she wanted was for Mrs. Oliver to repeat them. “Perhaps we need that coal after all.” Diana reached into a drawer, pulled out a shilling, crossed the room, and pressed it into Mrs. Oliver’s hand.

Mrs. Oliver sputtered a bit, but Diana ignored her, pressing her hand at the small of Mrs. Oliver’s back and gently guiding her to the door.

Lord Bryant stopped them just before they reached the door. “Ah, Miss Oliver, I shall miss your company. Sometime I hope we will have the chance to catch up on what Diana has been doing during my absence. That last story sounds particularly interesting.” The wicked smile in his voice seemed to capture the air around him.

“I work,” Diana said before giving Mrs. Oliver a chance to embarrass her further. She pulled the door open with a yank. “That is truly all I do.”

Mrs. Oliver nodded a farewell to Lord Bryant and gave Diana a none-too-subtle wink. “I’ll take my time getting the coal. I’ve heard the next borough over has quality products. I may make my way there.”

“Perfect,” Diana and Lord Bryant said in unison, although Diana suspected it was for very different reasons. She wasn’t certain she wanted to know what Lord Bryant’s were. Mrs. Oliver glanced back and forth between the two of them and smiled broadly. The spring in Mrs. Oliver’s step belied her advancing age. Apparently Lord Bryant made every woman feel like a younger version of herself.

Diana shook her head and turned to face her tormentor.

He was half sitting on the outside of her desk, this time with his arms folded and that arrogantly superior smirk on his perfectly sculpted face. Was it too much to hope that today he would be civil?

He tilted his head to one side and raised both his dark eyebrows. “You stroked my picture?”

Apparently it was.