‘To the victor go the spoils,’ Greythorne said, making a salute before strolling off.
‘Trite bastard,’ Tanner muttered to himself.
Pomroy twisted around. ‘Did you say something?’
Tanner did not reply, because he saw someone else in the crowd. He propelled himself out of his chair, sending it clattering to the ground, and vaulted over the supper-box wall.
‘Flynn!’ he called, pushing through the people to catch up. He grabbed Flynn’s arm and pulled him to the side. ‘When do you meet with her, Flynn?’
His secretary regarded him in his usual unflappable manner, not even showing surprise at his presence. ‘I have done so already,’ Flynn answered.
‘To what result?’ Tanner asked eagerly.
Flynn paused, only briefly, but enough to try Tanner’s patience. ‘I was able to give her the ring,’ Flynn finally said.
‘Excellent!’ Tanner’s eyes lit up. ‘Did she like it?’
‘She said it was more than a trifling gift.’
That was all? ‘Well, I suppose that is something.’ Tanner grasped Flynn’s arm. ‘We need more progress, man. That snake Greythorne is slithering around. He just spoke to me.’ Tanner gave a mock-shiver. ‘I’d hoped for a meeting tonight.’
‘I did not expect you tonight, my lord,’ Flynn said in a bland voice.
Tanner grinned. ‘That is so. I escaped some ghastly musicale with some equally ghastly soprano to come here. I could not resist. I tell you, Miss O’Keefe’s sweet voice was balm in comparison.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘This business is taking an intolerably long time.’
‘Patience is required.’
‘Well, we both know how little of that commodity I possess.’ Tanner clapped him on the arm. ‘That is why I depend upon you, Flynn. If it were up to me, I’d go there now and demand she see me, but I suspect you would advise against it.’
‘I would indeed.’
Tanner blew out a frustrated breath. ‘I wonder what Greythorne will do. I trust him about as far as I can throw him.’ He thought about this. ‘Make that as far as he could throw me.’
‘I can assure you she shows no partiality toward him,’ Flynn said.
Tanner grinned. ‘That is good news. What is next for us then?’
‘I shall dine with her tomorrow.’
Tanner gaped at him. ‘Dine with her? Well done. Very well done, indeed.’ His secretary was clocking impressive amounts of time with her. Things were looking up.
Flynn gave him a wan smile.
‘Tanner!’ Pomroy was standing in the supper box, waving him over.
Tanner glanced at him. ‘Pomroy beckons. I suppose I must go. He’s managed some entertaining company, no one to remark upon, but anything is better than that ghastly musicale.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Enjoy yourself, Flynn. Might as well see what pleasures the garden can offer, eh?’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Flynn replied.
Tanner headed back to the supper box, not noticing his secretary did not heed his advice. Flynn turned towards the Ken-nington Lane gate where he could catch a hackney carriage back to Audley Street.
The next evening Rose said goodbye to her father and Letty, watching from the window until they were out of sight. Waiting a few minutes longer to be sure they had time to get in a hack, she donned her hat and gloves, picked up a basket, and hurried outside. She walked the short distance to the Covent Garden market past youngbloods who whistled and made lewd remarks. The theatres had not yet opened their doors, but the street was teeming with well-dressed gentlemen casting appraising glances at gaudily dressed women who only pretended to have some destination in mind.
Rose listened for the pie man’s call and made her way to him to purchase two meat pies. She also bought strawberries, a jug of cream, and a bottle of Madeira wine. It would be simple fare, but the best she could manage without the means to cook and without her father and Letty suspecting. She returned home, setting the pies near the small fire in the parlour fireplace. She moved the table they used for eating and found a cloth to cover it. She set two plates, two glasses, and cutlery and stood back to survey her work.
It was not elegant, nothing, to be sure, like a marquess’s table set with porcelain china and silver, but it was the best she could do.
All the day she’d felt out of breath, not from nerves at hiding this from her father, but anticipation of seeing Flynn.
She’d been so disappointed at Lord Tannerton’s appearance the night before, forcing her to forgo Flynn’s company. She’d had girlish fantasies of walking with Flynn down the Dark Walk, where lovers could be private, where lovers could kiss. Tannerton had spoiled it.
She was determined Tannerton would not spoil this evening, even if Rose must talk about him with Flynn. She intended to spend some part of the evening merely enjoying being alone with him. In school she’d learned it was not proper to entertain a man alone in one’s lodgings, but here in Covent Garden no one expected proper behaviour. She planned to take advantage of that fact.
While she checked the kettle to see if there was water enough to heat for tea, the knock sounded at the door. Rose wheeled around, pressing her hand against her abdomen to quiet the flutters. She hurried to the door and opened it.
Flynn stood with a small package in his hand. ‘For you, Miss O’Keefe.’
She hesitated. Another present from Tannerton. Letty had already discovered the ring and was at this moment wearing it on her finger. Rose took the package into her hand and stepped aside so Flynn could enter.
Flynn placed his hat and gloves on the table near the door and turned to her, pointing to the package. ‘It is a token,’ he said. ‘From me.’
From Flynn? That made her happy. She eagerly untied the string and opened the box. Inside was an assortment of sweetmeats, all prettily arranged. She thought she had never seen anything so lovely, nor received such a wonderful gift.
She smiled at him. ‘Thank you. I will serve them with our tea.’ Or leave them untouched to treasure for ever. ‘Please come to the table.’
She poured him a glass of Madeira. ‘I know it is customary to have conversation before dinner is served, but I thought it best for us to eat right away.’
‘Whatever you desire, Rose,’ he said, still standing.
He waited until she had fetched the meat pies from in front of the fire and placed them on the plates, then held her chair for her. She smiled up at him.
‘Our meal is rather plain,’ she apologised.
‘I do not mind.’ He settled in his seat and took a forkful. ‘I do not know when I last ate meat pie.’
She felt her cheeks warming. ‘I am sorry to serve you such poor fare.’
‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘I meant it is a rare treat.’
She gave him a disbelieving glance. ‘There goes your silver tongue again.’
‘Truly, Rose.’ He looked so sincere she was tempted to believe him.
She glanced back down at her plate. ‘You know, in my grandparents’ house this would have been a luxury. There’s more meat in my pie here than they ate in a week sometimes.’
A faint wrinkle creased his brow. ‘Their lives must be difficult.’
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘they died a long time ago, soon after my mother. After that my father put me in school in Killyleagh.’
He glanced up again. ‘You had other family,