Her smile was brief but soft. “Viscount Kittridge. He and Lushing were close. He oversaw matters today, the procession to the church, the service, the burial. Since women are discouraged from attending funerals—we are too delicate, you see—I sat in the parlor while ladies tried to comfort me, mostly by talking about your establishment.”

It might have been inappropriate but still he grinned. “All good, I hope.”

“Oh yes. Apparently, the relaxation room is just the thing. You’ve not shared that one with me.”

“I’ll put it on the list, although I suspect you’ll find it a trifle boring. Ladies lounge around while men rub their feet or brush their hair or massage their shoulders.”

He didn’t think she was really listening, as her attention was concentrated on her knotted hands, and he suspected that if he removed her gloves, he’d find her knuckles had turned white.

“My attire is entirely inappropriate for visiting my dead husband, but I couldn’t very well walk into your place in mourning black—it would have given me away. For some reason I can’t explain, once I left the residence, I had an immediate need to go see Lushing and decided to disturb you and take you from your work.” She rubbed her fingers over her forehead. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You’re grieving. I doubt you’re thinking at all, but I’m glad you came to me tonight.” More than he cared to admit.

“I don’t know why I did. I knew only that I didn’t wish to be alone and you provided such comfort last night.”

He’d provided a good deal more than that, but now wasn’t the time for reminding her or teasing her about it.

“It was selfish of me to impose on your kindness.”

Although he’d not known her long, he’d managed to discern selfishness was a stranger to her. He’d known selfish women before. They wouldn’t have pulled a dodge in order to ask questions of him; they’d have used the opportunity to speak of themselves or to have him slathering over them. Even succumbing to her wishes had proved to be no burden. “If I didn’t want to be here, I’d have said no.”

With a sigh, she looked toward the window, no doubt forgetting that the curtains prevented her from seeing the passing scenery. “I should have gone to the funeral. I think it would have helped put matters behind me. At the moment I feel untethered. I suspect you have a dim view of me now that you know I sought out pleasure so soon after falling into widowhood.”

“People grieve in different ways.”

Her gaze came back to him. “Have you had cause to grieve, then, Mr. Trewlove? You told me no one you held dear had ever died.”