Page 28 of Season of the Scoundrel
“Perhaps I shouldn’t ask,” Ross said as they sat side by side in a hansom cab, “but where did you get a full suit of men’s clothing that fits you perfectly?”
“I purchased the overcoat and boots out of a bit of money I was given as a birthday gift a while back, but the rest all belonged to my brother. My sister Daphne altered them to fit me.”
“Why?”
Ivy considered what to confess, yet they were already partners in the mad plan to pretend they were to marry each other. Agreeing to that scheme had required her to put her trust in him. Why hide things about herself now?
“Before I decided to pursue journalism as a profession,” she said, glancing up at him in the tight space of the hansom, “I planned to be a private investigator.”
Ivy felt him shift beside her so that he could look over at her. Then she heard him chuckle.
“Are you laughing at me, Your Grace?” It bothered her more than it should. She refused to feel shame about her interests or avid curiosity.
“Not at all. I could see you succeeding in such a role. It doesn’t surprise me that it interests you.”
There was a sincerity in his tone that made Ivy feel warm somewhere deep inside her chest.
“I may still pursue that goal one day.” She smiled up at him. “But I won’t confess as much to anyone while I’m pretending to be a future duchess. It wouldn’t be proper for a duchess, would it?”
His smile faded and he turned to face fully forward again as their carriage approached the docks of Wapping. He said nothing more as they rolled toward Penrose’s warehouse.
“We should tell his foreman you’re there by Penrose’s request,” Ivy said as they drew into an area clogged with warehouses. “He did invite you the other night, you said.”
“I thought as much too. We’ll see how far it gets us.”
Ross turned to help her from the carriage, but Ivy arched a brow and he lowered his hand. If anyone was to believe she was a gentleman, all the niceties shown to a young lady wouldn’t do.
Ivy stepped down and they started off toward the Southwell Shipping company’s warehouse. As she’d hoped, there were still a contingent of Penrose’s employees busy at work.
One tall, thin man in a suit stood in the entryway, directing two other men in shirtsleeves and trousers.
“Perhaps the foreman,” Ivy whispered.
“We’ll soon see,” Ross said. “I’d ask that you stay behind me, but I doubt you’d agree.” He shot her an amused smile.
“In this case, I’m content to let you do all the talking.”
“Pardon me,” he said in a deep, commanding tone to the tall man in the entryway.
The man turned and took Ross in—his fine clothes, the silver-topped walking stick he’d brought along, Ivy guessed to add a bit more of a noble air.
“May I help you, my lord?”
“I’m the Duke of Blackbourne. Who are you?” Ross produced a card. The man took it and his eyes widened.
“Your Grace,” he corrected. “I am Walter Harvey. I’m chief foreman at Southwell Shipping. How may I assist you?”
“Lord Penrose has invited me to invest in Southwell Shipping and to have a look at the enterprise. I and my associate, Mr. Smith, would like a tour. Might you accommodate us?”
Ivy watched as the debate played out over Mr. Harvey’s features, but he looked too impressed to be faced with a duke of the realm to refuse Ross.
“Of course, Your Grace,” he finally said, his tone laced with just a bit of wariness. “Work is winding down for the day, but I can give you a brief look at the operation.”
Ivy followed behind Ross as he’d suggested, and she was thrilled when he began to slow Harvey’s quick gait by plying him with a slew of questions about the shipping enterprise.
When Harvey stopped to explain a steam-powered hoist and winch system they used for moving cargo, Ivy slipped away to examine a few of the crates. The company’s name had been stamped on each one, and a few were shedding straw, but she couldn’t determine what was inside the crates.
Ivy glanced over to where Ross still had Mr. Harvey occupied, then ducked down, crouching as she made her way between some of the stacked crates. She looked around for any kind of implement she could use to pull the top off of one, but found nothing.
