Which meant he would have to see her. She might not welcome that. He could all but hear her putting it into words. We should not have done this. Probably not, but he did not regret it for a minute, no matter what complications it brought.

She might, however. No matter what drew them together, the situation meant they should stay apart. He knew that, damn it. But what existed between them had nothing to do with reasoning.

He still simmered when he thought about her. Even upon his return to London she was not far from his mind.

His third morning back in town he left his chambers to go claim his horse in the stable in the nearby mews. As he approached the stable a tall, young, blond man blocked his path. He looked the fellow over.

“I know you,” he said, searching his mind. “You are one of the grooms at Whiteford House.”

“Was one, for a few days.”

“Have you taken employment here?”

He shook his head. “I’m to give you a message from my mum. She said to meet her in Portman Square today at three o’clock. She wants to talk to you.”

“Who is your mother?”

“She is Miss Hepplewhite’s housekeeper.”

He meant Beth. This was Beth’s son. “I will be there.”

The young man slipped down the mews and seemed to disappear. Chase went into the stable to get his horse. This fellow had been another one of Minerva’s sets of eyes in Whiteford House during the house party. He wondered how many there had been.

* * *

He found Beth strolling along the park’s perimeter. He recognized the big cap with its deep brim even before he saw how her stout form fit his memories. He swung off his horse and approached her.

She looked around. “I guess we can talk here. Not too many others about right now.”

They walked a few minutes in silence.

“I’m of two minds about this,” she finally said. “Minerva came home in a state I have not seen in years. She blames herself. I blame you.”

“I accept the blame.”

“Do you now? Won’t do much good, will it?” She walked on, her steps heavy plods on the path. “That husband of hers ruined her. She didn’t tell you that, did she?”

“She told me some of it.”

“He was a brute. He got cruel when he drank and he drank a lot. I only stayed in his service because of my boy. Not many houses will let you have a young boy with you.”

He reached out and touched Beth’s arm so she stopped walking. He looked down at her. “A brute, you said. He hit her?”

“Hit her? He beat her. He brought this innocent girl home as his wife and for two months or so it was normal, but then—” She lifted a corner of her apron and dried her eyes.