Enter she did. She paused inside the door, her gaze taking in the shop, moving from the bonnets to the shelves and counter, and finally resting on Rosamund. She looked Rosamund up and down, then stepped closer. “Are you Rosamund Jameson? Did you of late live on Warwick Street in London?”
“Yes. That be me.”
The lady fished a card out of her reticule. “My name is Minerva Radnor. I have been looking for you.”
Rosamund read the card. Hepplewhite’s Office of Discreet Inquiries. “It says here your name is Minerva Hepplewhite.”
“I married, but the office remains in my given name.”
“I think you did not come here because you want a new hat.”
Mrs. Radnor smiled. Her dark eyes brightened. “No, although yours look to be very nice. I have been trying for many months to find you and tell you about a legacy you have received. A substantial legacy.”
* * *
“You do not need to close your shop,” Mrs. Radnor said. “I will wait if someone enters and needs attention.”
“As if I could talk to a patron now.” Rosamund drew the curtains over the window and locked the door. “I can barely breathe.”
“Perhaps some medicinal spirits . . . ?”
Rosamund looked over her shoulder at her guest. “I don’t be needing spirits. Just an explanation . . .”
“Of course.” Mrs. Radnor moved a second chair to the table with the looking glass, so that they could both sit.
“Who would leave me this . . . legacy?”
“The Duke of Hollinburgh.” Mrs. Radnor looked intently at Rosamund. “Did you know him?”
Rosamund took a moment to absorb this astonishing news while she collected her wits. “I was acquainted with him. We had but one conversation.” She realized why Mrs. Radnor was looking at her so closely. “We were not lovers. It was nothing like that, if you be thinking that way.”
“I am not thinking any way. You see, he also left me a legacy. We were not lovers either. In fact, we had never met. I am fascinated that you and he spoke at least once.”
“It wasn’t a long talk, but he learned something about me.” She had confided too much, perhaps, but that conversation had occurred when she was weary and only because he had shown kindness to a friend of hers that he hardly knew. Rosamund had known who he was, and was surprised how easy it was to chat with him. “He was so very kind. He gave me a purse that held ten guineas. That was how I was able to open this shop.”
Mrs. Radnor looked around the shop again. “When did this happen? The only address given in the will was the street in London, but no one there knew of you.”
“I lived there for a mite bit over a year. I took it over from a woman I knew, and I confess we did not inform the owner because he might have increased the rent if we did. I kept to myself as a result. I lived there while I worked at a millinery shop in the City, learning what I could about accounts and finding sources for fabrics, notions, and such. It takes more than a dream to make a go of something like this.”
“And you figured out what it took and set about obtaining it.”
“Something like that. Then I moved here, because letting a place in Richmond would be much less, and there weren’t so much competition.”
“Where were you when you met the duke?”
Rosamund’s back stiffened. “Is it a requirement of receiving the legacy for me to give my whole history?” She regretted how snappish she sounded.
Mrs. Radnor seemed not to notice. “Goodness no. I, for one, was most grateful for that. I did not mean to pry.” She removed two more cards from her reticule. “Here is the solicitor you must see to obtain the inheritance. This is my personal card. We are sisters of a sort, aren’t we, as two women to whom the late duke gave unexpected gifts? When you come up to Town, please call on me if I can aid you in any way. In fact, if you write to me when you are coming, I will invite you to stay with me.”
Rosamund took the cards with unsteady fingers.
“Are you in such shock that you are not even curious about the amount of the legacy?” her guest asked gently.
“Whatever it be will be more than I’ve got now.” Maybe it would be enough to open that London shop she dreamed of, though. Or even to help with her sister’s future. Those ideas gave her thinking firmer legs. “It would be nice to know if it comes close to a hundred. That would go far with some plans I have.”
“It is a good deal more than that, Miss Jameson. You have inherited many thousands of pounds.”
Thousands of pounds. Rosamund had to concentrate on breathing in order to get any air inside her body.
“Furthermore, there is a business in which the duke was a half owner. He left his half to you.”
“The duke . . . had a millinery shop?”
Mrs. Radnor reached over with a smile and laid her hand on Rosamund’s. “Not a millinery business. Quite different. Please arrange to come up to London as soon as possible. I will help you settle all of this in a timely way.”
Rosamund let out a laugh, and then had the horrible suspicion that she was about to burst into tears. Instead she grasped Rosamund’s hand with both of hers and said, “I will leave for London as soon as I can stand without fainting.”
Chapter Two
Two weeks later, Kevin Radnor again rode his horse through Mayfair to his cousin Chase’s house. Despite his agitation, which more than equaled that on his last visit, his progress was slow. Society had begun arriving in Town for the Season and roads that had been blissfully peaceful for months were now clogged with wagons and carriages.
He jumped off his horse upon arrival, threw the reins to a groom, and showed no more ceremony than the last time in entering. The butler merely pointed him toward the morning room.
Chase and Minerva had only moved here recently, so he strode through chambers sparsely furnished until he arrived at the light and airy morning room that overlooked the garden.
“Where is she?” he asked by way of announcing his abrupt arrival.
His cousin Chase glanced at him, then finished drinking the coffee in the cup at his mouth.
“How good to see you, Kevin. And so early too.” Minerva made a display of turning to look at a clock on a small corner table. “Why, it isn’t even ten o’clock.”
He was in no mood for Minerva’s sarcasm. “Chase wrote that Miss Jameson was coming up to Town yesterday, and that you had offered her hospitality, so I know the woman is in this house.”
“She is at that,” Minerva said. “Only she came two days ago and yesterday visited the solicitor. Right now she is in her chamber, probably sleeping.”
He pivoted toward the door.
“Stop.” Chase’s command caught him in mid stride.
Chase’s blue eyes glared when Kevin looked back at him.
“Sit. You cannot go up there, throw open a door, and have the conversation you want,” Chase said. “I understand your impatience, but you will have to wait a little longer.”
“I have waited a year, damn it. And I found her.” He had. Not Chase, the investigator charged with finding these mystery women their uncle had bequeathed fortunes to. Not Chase, whose profession was to conduct inquiries. Not Minerva either, who also had that profession, peculiar as that was.