The parlor door burst open. Hope nearly burst out of her skin.
“Lord Tensford! Here you are,” she said pedantically. Why did he carry a silver serving tray?
“Here we are,” he corrected. He looked around. “But are there no other young ladies? No one for me to meet?”
“Well, I—”
“Never mind,” he interrupted. “We’ll enjoy these before we go to make the introductions.” He approached her and held out the tray.
“Lobster patties,” she said weakly. Her stomach was aflutter. She couldn’t eat a bite.
“Yes. We never did share any, that first night. The night we met. We spoke of sharing the last lobster patty—and other things. Do you remember?”
Oh, she remembered.
“In any case, I have these. And a question. I’ll trade you for the answer.”
“Of course.” He was in a strange mood. How was she going to explain if he would not stop going on about lobster patties?
“Mmm.” He held the tray beneath her nose. “Don’t they smell wonderful? But wait—that is not my question. I was just wondering about the tokens you mentioned earlier. The new tokens for the chophouse, they won’t have a swan on them, I wouldn’t think. What image is carved on the new tokens?”
“A meat cleaver,” she said absently, watching him move the tray before her. She had to bring this conversation around.
“Why did you choose a meat cleaver?”
“It fit the chophouse and I thought the boys would like it bett—” She stopped suddenly and looked up at him. “Wait.” She pushed the tray away. “You know!”
“I do know.”
“But, how?” And how did he feel about it? She was in a panic. His expression was so . . . bland. Clutching her fists, she lifted her chin and tried to calm her racing heart. “I have questions of my own,” she said finally.
“Ah, but what will you trade for answers?”
She drew a deep breath. “Pots and pots of money.”
He winced. “That’s what I thought it would be.”
She searched his face. “I am sorry for deceiving you. But do you understand? Why I did . . . everything?”
“I think I do. You said it yourself. I had no liking for being rejected because of my lack of funds. Nor do you wish to be courted for your possession of them. But how? How is it not widely known?”
“I made my brother promise not to tell. I told him he owed it to me, after leaving me to care for our mother alone while she suffered and withered away, so slowly.”
“Then your father left you more than the two thousand?”
“No. That was my dowry. But my Aunt Margaret died before my mother, her sister. Her husband was a nabob and had made a fortune in the East. They had no children and we had been close. She left it all to me. I was in the midst of nursing my mother and barely registered it at first. But afterwards, I forced him to promise. No one knows except the family.”
“And Bardham, one assumes.”
She made a face. “Not even Catherine knows the true extent of it.” She grinned. “And in any case, I think that tonight, I dealt with Bardham at last.”
“How?”
“I sent him off after Miss McNamara and her forty thousand pounds.”
He laughed. “They will be perfect for each other.”
“I’m sorry for putting you through so much, but I had to know . . . I wanted to be chosen . . .”
“For yourself,” he said, taking her hands.
“And it was important that you should know, too. We both deserved to know we chose each other.” She sighed—but then tossed her head. “But I don’t care, I want—”
“No! Throw that thought right out of your head. I did. I made my choice tonight at the Sterne’s dinner party. When I thought you had no more than your dowry. Before I suspected the rest of it. Barrett invited me because he wanted to make a point and I listened. To him, and to my heart, at last. I imagined the bride I would bring back to Greystone and I knew it couldn’t ever be anyone but you.”
He took her hand. “I’ve thought for so long that all that Greystone needed was money. But Barrett made me realize—there was money at Greystone once, before my father died—and yet it was never really a home, not even then. What Greystone needs, what I need—is something that we’ve never had. It needs you. I need you. I need your heart, your love. It’s the only thing that will make it a home—a life—worth living.”
She blinked back tears, but he was grinning now. “And if you need confirmation, then ask anyone at the Sterne’s dinner. I made an ass of myself, running out in the middle of the fish course.”
“Truly?”
“I swear it. It wasn’t until I arrived here that I put it all together. I saw the butler worrying over the food—and I remembered what Madame said yesterday, about never allowing you to pay.”
She groaned and laughed. “I thought I would sink beneath the table when she said it, but you never seemed to connect her words with what I had to show you, so I just moved forward.”
“Yes, I was slow. But I was learning about you, even if I did think you were speaking of some other young lady.” He sighed. “And then I saw Bardham skulking around Miss McNamara and it all just clicked into place.”
He sighed. “I shouldn’t ask. I have nothing to give you except . . . me. These hands, a drafty, leaking
