Not that it would do anything but make Red feel worse about himself just now. He wasn’t looking for a wife with means. He was looking for the means to provide for her himself.

As they made their way to the first landing, silence overtook them—a rather brooding one. Had the discomfort in his side not been increasing with every step and his energy flagging by a proportional degree, he may have smiled at the frown furrowed into his friend’s brow.

They were just turning to the next flight of stairs when Red said, “How do you suppose he convinced her to tell him where she lived?”

“If I were to guess . . .” He paused not for effect, but to suck in another breath and grip the railing better. Couldn’t Dot and Aunt Millie at least have found a flat on the ground floor? “He asked.”

Red’s scowl didn’t lessen any. “And she simply told him where he could find her?”

“Where to find me.” Blast, but when had these stairs grown as tall as the Matterhorn? “She knows we’re old school chums.”

“But—”

“Trust me, Red. I know the type of fellow my sister likes, and Phillip Camden isn’t it. She’s never gone in for the sort who is chasing a different girl every week.”

Red didn’t look quite convinced, but Drake couldn’t spare the breath to offer any more encouragement just now.

Funny though. All the exertion didn’t at all distract his mind from winging a few streets away to where he imagined a certain letter being dropped into a certain post box.

Margot obviously didn’t care for Camden’s type either. But did she care for his?

21

So intriguing.” The duchess was leaning back in her chair, her teacup dangling from her hand and her trousered legs crossed in what looked like a pose for an advert in one of the fashion magazines Maman had always liked. “I know it’s all still theoretical, but it sounds very revolutionary, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed.” Margot sipped the last of her own coffee—apparently what the duchess preferred to serve in her dainty little teacups—with a smile. She and Maman hadn’t been able to find or afford decent coffee since moving here. The very scent was enough to take her back to Belgium. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that she heard Papa chuckling over his own cup. “Einstein’s mathematics are certainly sound. I don’t know how one could prove his theories, but they could be true. Which is quite amazing.”