Page 52 of Inventing Vivian

“Thank you.” Mr. Thomas’s worried expression relaxed and grew into a smile. “We did it, my lord. His Grace agreed to all of your proposals.”

“Ourproposals,” Benedict said. “And you were masterful in there. I am extremely grateful. Come, man. Will you accompany me to luncheon?”

“If you’d like, my lord.”

Benedict glanced in the direction of St. James’s Street and shook his head when he thought of going to a gentleman’s club. “Where do you go for a warm meal, sir? Have you a favorite tavern?”

“There is a public house near my boardinghouse, my lord. The Queen’s Head. It is just simple fare, hardly a place for a nobleman like yourself.”

“The Queen’s Head?” Benedict asked.

“It is near the Tower,” Mr. Thomas explained.

“Rather poor taste, don’t you think?” Benedict said, smirking at the pub’s cheeky name.

“But the food is delicious,” Mr. Thomas said.

“Then, it is settled.” The two men got in the carriage, and Benedict called up to the driver. “To the Queen’s Head.”

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