“Your father is targeting St Katharine’s,” he told her. “I know that you’re familiar with the area and thought you might be able to provide insight.”
“I do know this neighborhood,” she confirmed, with a pleased smile. She tapped her finger against the map. “There’s the hospital and church, the brewery, the school,” she murmured, her eyes shining. “My mother was born and raised here, you know.”
“I didn’t know,” he said quietly, his stare transfixed on her delicate profile. Fate must be laughing at him to make his rival so alluring.
She nodded. “Her father was a ship’s captain who sailed for my grandfather. That’s how she and Papa met. Mama said it was love at first sight, although Papa was twenty at the time and she only thirteen. But five years later, they were married, right there in St Katharine’s by the Tower.”
He watched the emotions flit across her face, struck by each captivating one. She’d shared practically nothing about herself with him until today, as if unwilling to reveal a soft underbelly to her enemy. But now, her openness surprised the devil out of him. Because it was a whole new side to the Hellion that he never would have suspected.
“The company’s important to you because of your parents,” he murmured thoughtfully.
She drew her finger lovingly over the familiar streets on the map. “Yes, it is. And so is the school.”
“More important than Winslow Shipping?” he asked casually, but he held his breath, waiting for her answer.
A smile teased at her lips. “That’s like asking a mother to choose between her children.”
He supposed it was. But the answer was important. Watching her closely, he asked as hypothetically as possible, “What would you do if you had to relocate the school?”
She paused her finger on the map and looked up at him quizzically. “Why would I have to do that?”
He shrugged, to hide both the importance of his question and the niggling prick of remorse in his gut over keeping the truth from her. “Because London is changing, and St Katharine’s can’t remain as it is forever.”
“There’s a medieval church next door to the school.” She gave him a knowing smile, one that warmed through him but did little to quell his guilt. “Nothing changes quickly in St Katharine’s.”
He smiled faintly in response. Perhaps she was right. It might be years before the docks were built. By then, she’d most likely be married and have children of her own, and she’d be thrilled to know the company was thriving and profiting, securing the future for her own sons and daughters.
He was worrying over a future flood when it hadn’t yet begun to rain.
He leaned back against the desk, facing her as she studied the map. Her pretty little brow creased intriguingly, and he had a glimpse of what she must have been like as a pupil, poring over her books.
“Is it really true,” he wondered softly, “all that knowledge you told my mother you possess?”
“Yes,” she replied, her concentration not straying from the map.
“Fluency in Spanish and French?”
“The wars were ending, and I knew my father would want to recapture lost trade with France and perhaps expand further into the Americas.”
Amused admiration sparked inside him. Only Mariah would become fluent in two languages in order to increase trade opportunities. “And the rest?”
“Bookkeeping because one should never completely trust accountants, law and politics because of contracts and negotiations, philosophy and the natural sciences in order to study human nature and the world…” She sent him a chagrined glance. “Although I must admit that my knowledge of naval warfare comes secondhand from eavesdropping on sailors.”
“Of course,” he muttered, struggling to keep from smiling.
She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head suspiciously. A lock of ebony hair had loosened from its pin and dangled against the side of her neck, and he itched to touch it, even knowing the slap that might very well result. “Why do I think you’re not really interested in learning about my school days, Carlisle?”
“But I am.” Know thy enemy. And at that moment, he wanted to know everything about her.
“Then you should know that everything I have ever studied was to make myself more valuable to this company,” she declared with a quiet intensity, her eyes flashing with fire and determination. “I have dreamt of working beside my father since I was a little girl. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and I won’t surrender that dream.”
Then they were in trouble. Because no matter how much he was coming to understand now why the company meant so much to her, Robert had no intention of surrendering it himself.
“It must have been difficult for you,” he said sympathetically, keeping the conversation focused on her instead of putting them at odds again. Because when she wasn’t fighting him, she was quite enjoyable. “Losing your mother at such a tender age.”
Grief flashed across her face, but it was gone in an instant, leaving only a lingering sadness behind. She shrugged a shoulder and looked away. “I suppose it’s difficult to lose one’s parent no matter how old you are.”
His chest tightened, and he admitted quietly, “It is.”
“Mama was a wonderful woman,” she continued, reaching for her muff to keep her fingers busy by pulling idly at the fur. “I cannot imagine how different my life might have been had she not caught that fever—” Her voice broke, and she froze, her fingers stilling. Then she drew a deep breath and divulged softly, “It was harder for Evelyn. She was younger, and at first, she couldn’t understand what happened, why Mama had gone away.”
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Robert’s heart went out to her. He’d witnessed firsthand the grief that his own sister had suffered upon his father’s death. He would have done anything to bring her solace, just as he was certain Mariah would have done for Evelyn. In that, at least, they agreed.
“I’m worried about her,” she confessed in a whisper. “She seems so…lost these days.” She looked up at him hopefully, a thought striking her. “Would your mother mind if Evie benefits from my season, too? The distraction might do her good. Perhaps she could come to the soirees and events that I’m forced to attend.”
Forced to attend. He fought back a smile at her defiance. Even in the midst of concern over her sister, she’d bared her claws.
“Two young ladies to fuss over?” he teased. “My mother would adore it.”
“Good. Evie needs guidance, and—”
She turned toward him, stopping in mid-sentence with a soft hitch of her breath at finding him so close. Her green eyes dropped to stare at his mouth, and she swallowed hard, as if remembering the taste of him and longing to experience it again. God certainly knew he wanted to.
“You were saying?” he prompted when she continued to stare at him, as if trying to fathom him and yesterday’s embrace.
Then her gaze darted over his shoulder toward the outer office, checking up on the dandy out there. And gauging the privacy between them in here.
“Tell me, Carlisle…why do you want this partnership so much?” she whispered, her gaze intense. “Why would it matter to someone like you?”
“Someone like me?” A touch of pique sparked inside him.
“The brother of a duke, wealthy, educated, refined—when he wants to be,” she added quickly in afterthought, which drew a crooked grin of amusement from him, despite himself. “Why would you want to work with a shipping company?”
“Why not?” he evaded with a small shrug. The last thing he would do was share his need to prove himself. They were beginning to trust each other, albeit tentatively, but he would never share that.
Her eyes narrowed. She was too sharp to fall for prevarication. She opened her mouth to press—
“Mariah?” Whitby stuck his ginger-haired head into the inner office. “Are you going to be much longer? We really should get on to Mayfair.”