boarding school, pretending he was one of the crowd, kept Reid’s expression impassive. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, I believe you do,” Eric said in a light, joking way. “Was I mistaken, or were you sitting on this bench a few minutes ago?” He held up a hand, laughing off any reply Reid might have attempted. “Don’t answer that. We both know you were. Actually, it looked like you were having quite a fine time flirting with her. Who is she? Amaid in one of the houses nearby? I looked away and didn’t see where she went to.”
Reid could have cursed his naïveté. Had he really imagined their conversation wouldn’t be noticed? “I was speaking with a lady—”
“No offense, but she was no lady, Armstrong.” Eric’s gaze hardened. “Don’t even try to deny it. Her gown was only something one of the lower classes would wear. And there is only one reason a woman of her class would be in this part of Chicago. No one with eyes would mistake her to be anything else.”
While Reid stood stoically, Eric chuckled to himself. “She’s a pretty thing, I’ll give her that. How is she under the sheets?”
This was beyond any sort of decency. Straightening to his entire six-foot-two height, Reid looked down his nose at Eric. “I beg your pardon. Sir.”
Eric laughed. “Sorry, chap. I should have remembered that you still possess far too many of those bourgeois, middle-class sensibilities. You don’t date and talk, do you? Of course, it wouldn’t be an actual date, and you very well might not have been talking about anything at all . . .”
Reid knew Eric was baiting him. He also knew enough to realize that any protestations he made would be duly noted. His words would be used as gossip and as fodder for bored conversations in the best drawing rooms. Next thing he knew, his imagined transgressions would be exaggerated and shared and joked about. And eventually, regarded as the truth.
Before long, it would reach the ears of one of the Sloanes. And then Rosalind would be fired.
And that was the best scenario. Eric could also use his protesting as a way to subtly blackmail him at a future time or merely use it as a source of amusement among their circle of friends. The result ofthat, of course, would tarnish Rosalind’s reputation, and perhaps even cause her to be the recipient of several lurid offers.
And since he was now very aware of how much she needed the job, he merely smiled. “Enjoy your afternoon, Newhouse,” he said with the slightest of bows before turning the opposite way on the street.
Eric paused as a new thread of respect flew into his words. “It seems you’ve become a bit shrewder over the years, Armstrong. I must admit that I’m surprised. And impressed.”
Reid kept walking, but that brief exchange had served him well. He’d just been reminded that cruel gossip could be born and spread at the drop of a hat . . . and that it could spread twice as quickly as gossip some might deem “innocent.”
He wasn’t going to be able to meet with Rosalind anywhere publicly again. Of course, meeting in private had its own set of cruel consequences. If he wasn’t careful, it wasn’t going to be ribald rumors or gauche innuendo that ruined her reputation. No, it would be his inability to constantly remember that they were never alone and always being observed.
It was a pity he hadn’t remembered that a half hour earlier.
CHAPTER 11
And so that, dear family, is what I have discovered so far.
Rosalind wrote at the bottom of her long, somewhat rambling letter.
I now have an idea about Miranda’s life here at the Sloane estate, and I am acquainted with most of the servants with whom she worked. I also know when she disappeared. But I have no idea why she did so. That is the most disturbing aspect of my efforts. Sometimes I am so close to making progress, but then the reality of how much I do not yet know threatens to overwhelm me and I begin to doubt myself and
“Oh, I believe you do,” Eric said in a light, joking way. “Was I mistaken, or were you sitting on this bench a few minutes ago?” He held up a hand, laughing off any reply Reid might have attempted. “Don’t answer that. We both know you were. Actually, it looked like you were having quite a fine time flirting with her. Who is she? Amaid in one of the houses nearby? I looked away and didn’t see where she went to.”
Reid could have cursed his naïveté. Had he really imagined their conversation wouldn’t be noticed? “I was speaking with a lady—”
“No offense, but she was no lady, Armstrong.” Eric’s gaze hardened. “Don’t even try to deny it. Her gown was only something one of the lower classes would wear. And there is only one reason a woman of her class would be in this part of Chicago. No one with eyes would mistake her to be anything else.”
While Reid stood stoically, Eric chuckled to himself. “She’s a pretty thing, I’ll give her that. How is she under the sheets?”
This was beyond any sort of decency. Straightening to his entire six-foot-two height, Reid looked down his nose at Eric. “I beg your pardon. Sir.”
Eric laughed. “Sorry, chap. I should have remembered that you still possess far too many of those bourgeois, middle-class sensibilities. You don’t date and talk, do you? Of course, it wouldn’t be an actual date, and you very well might not have been talking about anything at all . . .”
Reid knew Eric was baiting him. He also knew enough to realize that any protestations he made would be duly noted. His words would be used as gossip and as fodder for bored conversations in the best drawing rooms. Next thing he knew, his imagined transgressions would be exaggerated and shared and joked about. And eventually, regarded as the truth.
Before long, it would reach the ears of one of the Sloanes. And then Rosalind would be fired.
And that was the best scenario. Eric could also use his protesting as a way to subtly blackmail him at a future time or merely use it as a source of amusement among their circle of friends. The result ofthat, of course, would tarnish Rosalind’s reputation, and perhaps even cause her to be the recipient of several lurid offers.
And since he was now very aware of how much she needed the job, he merely smiled. “Enjoy your afternoon, Newhouse,” he said with the slightest of bows before turning the opposite way on the street.
Eric paused as a new thread of respect flew into his words. “It seems you’ve become a bit shrewder over the years, Armstrong. I must admit that I’m surprised. And impressed.”
Reid kept walking, but that brief exchange had served him well. He’d just been reminded that cruel gossip could be born and spread at the drop of a hat . . . and that it could spread twice as quickly as gossip some might deem “innocent.”
He wasn’t going to be able to meet with Rosalind anywhere publicly again. Of course, meeting in private had its own set of cruel consequences. If he wasn’t careful, it wasn’t going to be ribald rumors or gauche innuendo that ruined her reputation. No, it would be his inability to constantly remember that they were never alone and always being observed.
It was a pity he hadn’t remembered that a half hour earlier.
CHAPTER 11
And so that, dear family, is what I have discovered so far.
Rosalind wrote at the bottom of her long, somewhat rambling letter.
I now have an idea about Miranda’s life here at the Sloane estate, and I am acquainted with most of the servants with whom she worked. I also know when she disappeared. But I have no idea why she did so. That is the most disturbing aspect of my efforts. Sometimes I am so close to making progress, but then the reality of how much I do not yet know threatens to overwhelm me and I begin to doubt myself and
Similar Books
