“To go?”
Chloe imagined that book on her head. She straightened her spine and spoke in her best English-ese. “In a takeaway cup, please.”
The waitress raised an eyebrow.
Henry ordered a pot of Earl Grey and a plateful of scones and clotted cream. He smoothed his napkin in his lap. “Just where are you planning to go with your coffee?”
“Home.”
“I see. Are you planning to walk to Heathrow in the rain? And then board a plane without a ticket, passport, or credit card?”
She folded her arms and scowled into the fire.
“Al ow me to rescue you. I’ve even brought the white horse.”
“That’s Sebastian’s white horse.”
“It’s my white horse.”
“Whatever. I don’t need to be rescued anymore. I just need one thing from you before I go.”
“Ah yes. I should’ve given it to you sooner. If you wil excuse me a minute.”
He stood, bowed, headed over to his greatcoat, pul ed out a maroon velvet drawstring bag, opened it, and revealed Chloe’s tiara. He set it on the white tablecloth.
Chloe cupped her hands around the tiara. He real y knew how to throw her off guard; she had actual y forgotten al about her tiara. “Thank you.
Real y.” She ran her fingertips along the diamonds and rubies. “Did you real y fix it yourself?”
“Yes. With nineteenth-century silversmithing tools, no less. It was a bit of a chal enge to get it right.”
She couldn’t even see the seam where he’d welded it together. “Thank you. You are—talented.” She tucked the tiara back into the velvet bag and steeled herself. “But this isn’t what I need from you.”
The waitress brought a fragrant pot of tea, a plate of sliced lemons, sugars, and a pitcher of cream. The stack of scones came next and a dish of clotted cream so thick it took everything in Chloe’s power not to scoop it up like ice cream. She was famished. The waitress set Chloe’s white paper cup of coffee with the familiar plastic lid right where her plate should be.
Henry swept the blond hair out of the corner of his eye. “Please bring the lady a plate for the scones. Perhaps a paper one, if you have it. Pity, but she’s not staying.”
Chloe held back a smile. After al that weak tea and coffee that tasted as if it real y were hundreds of years old, this coffee tasted amazing. Stil , jokes and good coffee aside, she didn’t want to get sidetracked. “The truth. Spil it.”
Steam from his tea rose out of his cup. “It’s true that I’m the heir of Dartworth Hal . I’m a doctor, but I don’t need to work for the money. I do it because I enjoy helping people. I’m forty years old. My friend George came up with this crazy idea for a TV show because women kept coming after me for my money. But you—you forfeited the money. A hundred thousand dol ars. For me, it was a game until you came along. I’ve wanted to tel you for so long that the bio you read about Sebastian back in Chicago? That profile was—me.”
“Al of it was you? Al this time, you were behind every little—”
“Detail. Not only do I love art, I own a few gal eries. You already know I’m a Jane Austen fan and a bird- watcher. I’m also an avid traveler and architecture buff.”
“Everything was a lie,” Chloe said, shaking her head.
“It wasn’t a lie—it was al me. There were clues everywhere. Al laid out for you.”
“What clues? I didn’t see any clues.”
“No, you didn’t. The poem, for example. That was a clue.”
“If that’s your idea of a clue, then you’re clueless. I’m not Sherlock Holmes here. I’m just a girl. A girl who’s been played by Sebastian. Ultimately, though, I hold you responsible.”
Henry looked down.
Chloe clenched her fists. She wanted to swear at him up and down, but the Regency Miss Parker kept the modern Chloe’s mouth in check. “This was al an experiment of some kind. I was right about you when I first met you. Who do you think you are that you can just put people in a petri dish and watch them squirm under a microscope?”
“It was an experiment, of sorts, and I realize now it was wrong of me.”
“I’l say! Hearts were broken! Dreams were dashed!”
“You’ve taught me. I was wrong.”
Chloe shook her head. “Another thing I don’t get: Why keep Grace? Why send Julia and Imogene home?”
Henry looked into her eyes. “George had me keep her on. For production value.”
“Is that why you kept
“No—no, not at al .”
She didn’t believe him.
“I just wanted to find a loyal and true love, a kind of modern-day Anne El iot, if you wil . But it was a crazy idea.”
