Page 14 of One Night of Scandal
Jack took a long step back and thrust the pot toward her. “Back to normal.”
Her hand closed around the jar, and he was careful not to touch her again lest the kissing idea take hold in his mind. She replaced the lid and stowed the glue away in her pocket. “You think this is normal? But you just said it’s a shame I wear them.”
“It is. I admit I much prefer you as Lady Viola, as you were last night. But this—Tavistock—is how I mostly know you.”
She glanced away, and he wished he hadn’t said all that. “Did you learn anything from Pennington?” Her gaze met his again, and anything that had sparked between them was gone, thank goodness.
He cleared his throat and shook out his shoulders, glad to be back on task. “Yes. Once I got him going on your brandy, he became rather loose-lipped. We need to see Mr. Hodges, a solicitor who sits at the corner table at the coffeehouse on St. James’s.”
Her eyes lit, and her mouth lifted. “Can you meet me there tomorrow?”
“I was going to suggest that very thing.”
“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re available. I’m not sure I would have had the patience to wait.”
He frowned. “I expect that you would, however. We have an agreement.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Are you still threatening to tell Val?”
“Maybe.” He wasn’t sure he would. He now felt a certain loyalty to her that he hadn’t a few days ago. “Mostly, we are in this together, and I should hope that you would not go on without me.”
She inclined her head. “I feel the same way. What time shall we meet?”
He mentally reviewed his appointments and meetings for the following day. “Two o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.”
He swept his gaze over her, trying to recall if she wore the same thing every time she assumed her masculine identity. “How many Tavistock costumes do you have?”
“Three. I just made a new waistcoat that I think is rather smart. You can tell me tomorrow if you agree.”
“You make your own waistcoats?”
She gave him a droll look. “You think I have a tailor?”
He laughed then. At the absurdity of such a thing. At the absurdity of it all. “I’m leaving now. Can I see you home again?”
“Are you sure you want to? People might think we’ve become close friends like Sir Humphrey and Caldwell.”
Jack shuddered. “Never say that. I should be horrified to be like either of them.”
“You really don’t care for them, do you?”
“They’re part of the problem we have in this country right now. They’re self-serving and corrupt. They don’t give a fig about the Blanketeers who marched from Manchester or the thousands of other people who don’t feel as if their government represents them.” He realized his voice had risen.
Her lips curved into a soft, very feminine smile. “You are a true radical. Perhaps you should have accompanied Cobbett to America.”
“Not a chance. I’m needed here.”
“Yes, I daresay you are,” she murmured. “Let us depart.” She moved past him out of the storage room.
As he followed her, he hoped they would learn what they needed to at the coffeehouse tomorrow. The sooner he stopped spending time with the tempting Lady Viola, the better.
Chapter 5
Despite the new waistcoat, Viola resented her costume today. While she typically enjoyed the freedom masquerading as a man allowed her, today she found she was eager to be a woman. Not that she could be in this coffeehouse.
Stepping inside, she took in the counter on the opposite side of the large room, where a man brewed coffee. Tables with benches stood in lines, while other tables and benches were set against the walls with drapes between them to allow for privacy. At least she assumed that was the purpose of the drapes.
