in front of her, at the level of her waist, and made no move to set it aside.
Restell understood why Nelson had not refused her entry, even at the inopportune timing of her arrival. She was preternaturally calm, possessed of a resigned bearing and purpose that made one suppose she would not be easily turned from it.
“Will you be seated?” asked Restell.
“I have not decided.”
“You have not decided if you will sit?”
“I have not decided if I will stay.”
Restell shrugged. “Then you will not object if I attend to my correspondence. You may stand or sit, stay or go, as the mood is upon you.” He gave her no further attention but walked to his desk and began examining the post that had arrived the previous day. He chose a letter with the recognizable seal of the Earl of Ferrin and hitched one hip on the edge of the desk as he opened it. He was peripherally aware of his visitor’s study, but he ignored it in favor of the missive from his stepbrother.
He read through the greeting and far enough beyond to be assured of the good health of everyone in Ferrin’s household before the visitor interrupted him.
“I did not think you would be so young,” she said.
“I am six and twenty. That is not the age you had in mind, I collect.”
She did not answer this directly. “You cannot have the breadth of experience I am seeking.”
“You have me at a disadvantage,” Restell said. He let Ferrin’s letter dangle between his fingers rather than set it aside. It was a subtle signal that he would remain engaged only as long as she did. “I know nothing at all about what experience you require. Perhaps if you would begin with how you came to be here.”
She hesitated, then asked, “You don’t want to know my name?”
“Would it mean anything to me?”
“No.”
“Then it’s not important. You know mine. That seems to be the salient point.”
“I learned about you from my physician.”
Restell folded Ferrin’s correspondence as he considered this information. He tapped one corner of the letter against his knee. “Might I know his name?”
“Bettany. Dr. William Bettany.”
Restell did not reveal whether or not he was acquainted with the doctor. “And what did Dr. Bettany tell you about me?”
“Precious little.” Making her decision, she backed into the chair behind her and sat down abruptly. The reticule remained clutched in her gloved hands. “That is, he was not speaking of you to me. I overheard some of what he told my…what he told someone else.”
“Might I know that name?” Her pause let him know she suspected he might have some familiarity with that person. He let it pass and went to the heart of the matter. “What manner of things did you overhear?”
“The doctor seemed to think that you had certain peculiar talents that might be helpful to someone in my situation.”
“Peculiar talents,” Restell repeated. “It’s an intriguing description. What do you suppose he meant by it?”
“He was speaking of protection. It’s a service you offer, I believe.”
“Are you quite sure that you comprehended the context. At the risk of offending you, you should know that when a gentleman places a woman under his protection it generally means—”
“He is setting up a mistress. Yes, I understand that. At the risk of offending you, that is not the sort of protection I am seeking from you. I do not believe I mistook the doctor’s meaning. He was speaking of protection from harm. That is why I have come to you.”
Restell folded his arms across his chest and regarded his visitor frankly. He did not try to penetrate her veil but took in the whole of her figure: the braced shoulders and narrow back, the quality and cut of her clothing, the stillness of her hands on the reticule. There was no glimpse of her hair and her feet were tucked modestly under the chair and hidden by her gown. She could be fair or dark or possess the olive complexion that suggested a Mediterranean heritage. She spoke in accents that were similar to his own and were influenced by years in London, attention to education, but nonetheless hinted at origins far north of the city. He could not deny that he was intrigued. He accepted that as fact. It did not necessarily follow that he was favorably disposed to taking up this matter of her protection.
“Is it shelter that you require?” he asked.
“No, not shelter. I have a home.”
“Then you are not seeking to escape it.” He saw her shoulders jerk and the brim of her bonnet lift as her chin came up. She was clearly shocked by the import of his words.
“No, of course not. I am content there.”
Restell thought it a peculiar expression of sentiment, but he did not comment on it. “You will have to tell me more. It would be a good beginning to tell me why you need protection.”
“I’m not sure that I do. That is a matter for you to determine. I thought I heard Dr. Bettany say that you make discreet inquiries. I am as interested in securing your services toward that end as I am in protection.”
Was it too early for a drink? Restell wondered. He glanced past his visitor’s shoulder to the drinks cabinet and actually considered removing the stopper from the decanter of whiskey and taking his fill. “Did you not just say you weren’t certain you needed protection?”
“I’m not certain I need it for myself,” she said. “I believe perhaps my cousin is the one who requires it.”
“Your cousin. I don’t suppose I might know her name.”
“In time, I think. You can understand that I must be certain that engaging you is the right course of action.”
One corner of Restell’s mouth lifted slightly, hinting at both mockery and amusement. “I understand you think the decision is entirely yours.”
“Isn’t it?”
Restell did not respond immediately. Unfolding his arms, he picked up the letter opener on the tray at his side and lightly tapped the end of it against the palm of his other hand.
“No, in fact it ultimately rests with me,” he said at last. It was just a fancy on his part, but he imagined that behind her veil she was frowning deeply. “I do not accept everyone who applies to me as my client. Conversely, I might choose to offer my services to someone who does not formally engage me. Once you announced your intention at the door to have this interview and stubbornly waited when I gave you sufficient time to think better of it, you surrendered your prerogative to decide the outcome. Whether you like it or not, I will determine how we go from here.”
“But you don’t even know who I am. If I do not hire you, you will never know it. You cannot offer your services to someone whose name you don’t know.”
“God’s truth, you cannot
