“Aye, and I thank you,” said Adam, to which Trenton shrugged his shoulders. When neither Trenton nor Thompson made to help Rachel into the hackney, Adam held out a hand to lead her inside. Trenton eyed him warily but said nothing.
The townhouse that Rachel shared with her father turned out to be a well-structured building, though Adam could see where repairs were required, where paint had faded and furniture needed replacing. There were few adornments on the walls of the foyer, the house seemingly fairly utilitarian with minimal touches to make it a home.
“Would you like a tour?” Rachel asked, turning to him.
“I’m sure Jackson can see to it,” said Trenton, nodding his head at the man who had opened the door to them. Adam assumed he was the butler.
“Oh, but I don’t mind at all,” said Rachel with a smile. “Though if Jackson should like to accompany us, he is more than welcome.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Thompson. “It wouldn’t be right for you to be alone with a man who is not your fiancé, now, would it?”
“For heaven’s sake, Vincent,” she sighed. “But if you would like to come with me, so be it.”
She turned with a huff, and Adam fixed a glower on the man as the two of them began to follow her. The rest of the house turned out to follow Adam’s initial impression until they came to the second-floor drawing room.
“This,” said Rachel, “is my sitting area. Father hardly ever sets a foot inside so I can do with it as I please.”
She opened the door to reveal a room that Adam would have recognized as hers, even had she not said a word of it. The room was bright, with paintings of landscapes adorning the brightly painted yellow-toned walls, flowers in vases on the side tables needing refreshing upon her return, and a comfortable-looking couch in a floral pattern sitting against one wall. There was a small piano in one corner, as well as an easel.
“It’s lovely,” Adam murmured, “very much like you, Rachel.”
She blushed while Thompson eyed him with a look of unveiled contempt. Adam could not understand why the man persisted in his pursuit of Rachel. Could he not see that, as much as her father was pushing the match, she did not want him?
Rachel walked them down a long hallway, pointing out the bedrooms but not providing any looks inside. She finally stopped at the end of the long hallway.
“I believe this is the room the housekeeper has prepared for you,” she said to Adam. “Your bags shall be brought up shortly, and we’ll be having supper in the dining room.”
She opened the door, and Adam looked into a room that was sparsely furnished with a bedside table, water basin, and an old armoire that had seen better days. The furniture was mismatched, and Adam wondered how well Trenton’s business was doing, despite what he said of his success. Power was a growing business to be sure, though it was rather new, and Adam supposed that Trenton likely would have struggled over the years.
Rachel gave him a bit of a hesitant smile as though she could read his thoughts. “I’m sorry it isn’t much,” she said. “I hope the bed should be comfortable enough. You are welcome to join us in the drawing room or parlor at any time, of course, so you shouldn’t have to spend much time—”
“Rachel,” said Thompson with exasperation. “Your father is providing the man a place to stay, while also going above and beyond in business dealings with him. There is no need for you to apologize. He should be thanking you.”
Thompson crossed his arms and looked over at Adam, who was leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb.
“The room will do just fine, Rachel,” he said, ignoring Thompson while looking at her and flashing a smile. “Thank you very much.”
Without a glance at Thompson, he pushed himself off the wall and led the way back down the stairs to retrieve his belongings, already wondering how soon he — they — could leave.
Rachel could not explain the awkward feeling that had settled in her gut as soon as they had arrived in London. Adam clearly was not comfortable in the city. She had seen the moment of panic at the train station and was relieved her father and Vincent hadn’t noticed it. It would have been something they could use against him, which she certainly didn’t want.
Supper was a rather tense affair, with Vincent asking Adam all sorts of questions, and he responding with his typical one-word answers. He had seen to his own bags instead of allowing the sole footman of their household to carry them upstairs, which had caused her father some consternation. She was, however, beginning to grow tired of Vincent’s constant presence.
Once Vincent had finally, blissfully left, Adam bid them goodnight and headed to his room to take a final look at his plans before their meeting at the power plant tomorrow. Left with her father, Rachel knew it was finally time to put one item to rest.
“Father,” she said, taking a seat across from him in the drawing room in an old, cracked, leather wingback chair. “I must speak to you about Vincent.”
“Ah yes, Vincent,” he said. “Are you finally ready to set a date to wed the man? The poor chap has been waiting for some time now!”
“Father, I have told you before, and I would like to tell you for the final time, I am not marrying Vincent,” she said with some frustration. “I can hardly stand to speak to him, let alone marry him! I do not understand why you are pushing this on me, nor why Vincent continues
