Stephen accepted the copies of the letters and all they represented. “I promise they are safe with me. May I show them to my family?” He tucked them into an inside pocket, though he longed to read them. He would rather keep Abigail’s secrets to himself, but only a fool would muddle on without the aid of keen minds eager to help.

“Read them first, then decide. You look splendid.”

They held this exchange in the foyer of Quinn’s home, for the hour had come to accompany Abigail on a shopping expedition. The outing was for show—Stephen hated shopping and suspected Abigail wasn’t much for idling about in commercial venues either.

“I am supposed to look besotted.” He’d spent five minutes choosing a cravat pin and eventually settled on plain gold. “Somebody waits in the carriage whom I’d like you to meet.”

Her gaze grew wary. “Not another one of your sneak thieves in dandy’s clothing?”

“Neddy is not a sneak thief. He’s a loyal and highly skilled family retainer, and I was so jealous of Quinn’s affection for him I nearly shot young Ned in the leg. Quinn hugged him, just the once, when Ned was a boy, and I happened to see it. I should not have been spying—Ned would die of mortification if he knew I’d caught that moment—but I was overcome with jealousy.”

Stephen was also babbling, prattling like the nervous suitor he almost was.

Abigail took down a cloak from a hook. “My father always had fine words for the ladies who came into his shop. They wore lovely bonnets, had fetching reticules, or were in quite good looks, while I—striving endlessly to learn his trade without even the respect an apprentice is owed—was invisible.”

Stephen took the cloak from her and managed to drape it over her shoulders without setting aside his cane.

“Which do you suppose does more damage,” he asked, “a violent parent or a parent who treats a child like an invisible servant?”

He fastened the frogs of her cloak, and—glorious moment—she allowed him to perform that courtesy.

“I feel conspicuous in colors,” she said, frowning at her reflection in the mirror over the sideboard. “But Her Grace has an eye for fabric, and velvet is durable. Who is this friend I’m supposed to meet?”

Her cloak was brown, for pity’s sake, the plainest color Stephen could think of that flattered her coloring, and the richest velvet he could purchase on short notice. The garment had a mere dash of red and purple embroidery on the collar.

“I have brought a gentleman to make your acquaintance,” Stephen said. “He comes from good family, and his betters have put the manners on him. He will also safeguard your person at times when I cannot.”