‘Mr Hurst and I have a suggestion,’ Maude said, blithely ignoring Eden narrowing his eyes at her. ‘Mr Hurst is very kindly prepared to allow us to use the Unicorn for a gala evening with music and refreshments. The special attraction is that the entertainment will be provided by the guests themselves.’
She explained in detail, conscious of Eden sitting silent, occasionally jotting down a note as she expanded the idea far beyond the bare details she had sketched out for him. Was she going too far? she wondered, braced for him to protest.
But he made no complaint, sitting calmly while the others exclaimed and praised, enthusiastically joining in to identify those leaders of society who must be persuaded to take part in this novel entertainment in order to ensure that everyone would be clamouring for an invitation. It seemed the novelty of the scheme was enough to overcome their reservations about Eden, at least for the moment.
When they finally finished the meeting and tea was served, Gareth made his way over to where Maude was talking to Eden.
‘We have some skilled carpenters amongst the men—I have several employed renovating some houses I own,’ he remarked. Maude held her breath, hoping this was an olive branch. ‘I can bring them over, Hurst, give your men a hand. I’ll supervise, if that will free you up for anything more technical.’
‘Thank you.’ Eden’s voice was cool. ‘I would be grateful for the men, but I, and I alone, supervise anything that happens in my theatre.’
‘I wonder, then,’ Gareth remarked, his eyes flickering to Maude, ‘that you tolerate Lady Maude’s interference.’
‘I do not have to.’ Eden sounded, to Maude’s anxious ear, faintly amused. ‘Firstly, Lady Maude does not interfere, she makes interesting and constructive suggestions. Secondly, we have established very firm boundaries for our partnership.’
‘Amazing,’ Gareth drawled, helping himself to a macaroon. ‘You must be the first man, including her father, to impose any boundaries whatsoever on Maude.’ He sauntered off and began to talk to Lady Wallace.
Maude could feel the tension coming off Eden like the heat from a fire. ‘He presumes a lot on old acquaintance, does he not?’ he enquired, his dark eyes following Gareth’s progress.
‘No, not at all, he is simply teasing me.’ Maude blinked—a low sound, not unlike a growl, was surely emanating from Eden’s throat. It could hardly, since there was no large dog in the room, be coming from anywhere else. ‘I told you, we have known each other since childhood,’ she added hastily. ‘I tease him just as much.’ It was not jealousy, that was too much to hope for, but the very fact that he wanted to defend her filled Maude with a warm glow.
‘Would you drive me home?’
‘Unchaperoned?’
‘I happen to know you drove yourself in an open carriage,’ she said. ‘A curricle, perhaps?’
‘And how did you know that?’
‘You were cold when you came in. Colder than would be accounted for by being in a closed carriage—I was standing close to you in the hall, if you recall. And you were wearing a caped driving coat, which seemed a little excessive for a passenger.’
‘Admirable deduction. I was driving my new phaeton.’
‘Then, may I drive with you? It is quite unexceptional to be alone with you in an open vehicle, after all.’
‘You will be cold.’ But he was smiling, just a little.
‘I will borrow Jessica’s furs. Wait for me.’
‘What is it, Maude?’ She looked down at him in surprise from the carriage seat into which he had just helped her. She was not quite certain, for his eyes were shaded by the brim of his hat, but Eden was amused.
‘What?’
‘Whatever it is you want to quiz me about in private.’ Eden went round and climbed into the phaeton, took the reins from the waiting footman and gave the pair the office to start. ‘I can’t believe that you have just had a sudden fancy to drive through London in the chill of a February afternoon to take the air.’
‘I wanted to ask y
ou something highly personal,’ she confessed, watching the street unfold between the pricked ears of the bay leader.
‘Ask then.’ He glanced sideways. ‘I won’t promise to answer.’
‘Do you know your mother’s real name?’ There was no point in beating around the bush, and sooner or later, they would have to confront the issue of his family.
‘Yes.’ The leader shied at a yapping mongrel on the pavement and Eden collected him with his voice and a touch of the whip. ‘I suppose you are wondering if I know that I have just been sitting down with two of my cousins? Are they aware of who I am?’
‘No, only Jessica. She was with me this afternoon when I saw a portrait of her father-in-law and realised why you so often seemed familiar. I looked in the Peerage and found your mother,’ she added.
‘Will you tell them?’ Eden sounded merely interested, as though they were speaking of someone else.