“Might not have been the best time.” Seth didn’t look at Tom’s face. At least Mina wasn’t with him.
“Tried to tell you,” Tom said.
“I know it.” Seth shrugged, but it didn’t lessen his embarrassment. Bloody Company men. They never gave him the time in London, and they were the same in India. Not even when he’d made them tens of thousands of pounds. And not even now, when a woman’s life was concerned.
And he’d started the night excited—happier than he’d been in months—over all the help he thought he’d get. Damn stupid of him.
“These men care for nothing tonight except the Fishing Fleet,” Tom said.
“The what?”
Tom pointed with his chin into the conservatory. “A ship full of ladies, fishing for husbands. You’ve not heard that expression?”
Seth shook his head, frowning. “No. Doesn’t sound fitting, anyway. Or nice.” He folded his papers into his pocket. “We can start in the morning, I suppose. I hope you know a man or two that might be more cooperative.”
“One or two, but they’ll make it understood that I’m overstepping. Bombay may as well be London for men like us.”
“Like me, you mean.”
“Like us, Mayhew.”
Tom’s words were so bitter, Seth paused in his turn for the door.
Tom raised a brow. “Why do you think I’m out in the Punjab?”
“The plantation—”
“I started in Calcutta, at the gardens. The Punjab isn’t Calcutta. It’s not Delhi or Bombay or Madras. It’s the mofussils. Three years out there because I dared to question my superior.” Tom looked dispassionate as he surveyed the room, but when he spoke, his words were hard as steel. “Society is twice as rigid here, Mayhew. But damned if they’ll turn us out with your sister missing. They may treat us as expendable, but they’ll learn we’re not.”
Despite Tom’s troubles, warm relief smothered Seth’s anger. Tom was going to help him—and not just because of the money. He patted his new ally on the back. “That’s damn right. You might deserve a wife after all. Maybe not Miss Mina, but a wife.”
Tom shook his head, but a grin tugged at his lips. “Now that you mention her, do you have to flirt with my intended?”
Seth’s heart plummeted—and it surprised the hell out of him. “Your intended now, is she?” His words came out too loud, so he grinned and blustered through. “She’s accepted your offer then?”
Tom’s mulish pout was answer enough.
Seth grinned in earnest, but his relief was damn stupid. Soon enough, Mina would have any man of her choosing. And that man wouldn’t be some wandering explorer without a spare shilling to his name.
Tom scanned the room. “I wonder where she’s gone to?”
If Mina were mine, I wouldn’t be all that likely to misplace her. Seth pointed to where she stood with a group of ladies beside a potted sago palm. “There. In that pink frock, she looks like a fancy teacake.” And with that milky skin, he had a strong urge to lick her. “She’s a beauty, that one.”
“You’ve made clear you noticed, you realize?”
Confused, he dragged his gaze back to Tom.
“Yes, she’s lovely to look on.” Tom studied him. “Listen, Mayhew—”
“Call me Seth.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but Miss Adams is here to meet a husband. And that will likely be me.”
Seth laughed but it came out weak. “I know it. Hell, every lady in here knows I can’t offer them anything by way of a future.”
“Certainly you can. I just meant—”
“I tease too much, maybe, but I never led a woman to believe I could take on a wife and family. Besides, Miss Mina is too fine for the likes of me.” Seth crossed his arms and feigned interest in the crowded conservatory.
With the ladies so fresh and pretty, every man in here had his head on a swivel. Yet nothing in their faces showed how the men had got here. They were comfortable, proud, believed they were entitled to a wife and children. Believed they could support them.
Nothing showed, but Seth always recognized the certainty—because he never recognized it in himself.
A throbbing started in his head and the candlelight stabbed his eyes. Not enough food—that’s why he was getting muddled. Men and their suitoring were none of his business. His business was finding Georgie, and that wasn’t looking too easy a task with the Company men ignoring him.
And he was suddenly damn tired.
“I suppose it was a waste of my time coming here,” he said.
Tom’s silence confirmed that and Seth swallowed another dose of shame. “Will you say good night to Miss Mina for me?”
“Certainly. We’ll start early tomorrow.”
Seth buttoned his coat and from the corner of his eye, saw Mina hurry toward them. It was too late to avoid her. Had she seen how the Company men had treated him?
“Mr. Mayhew?” Her voice was a little breathless. “You are not leaving?”
Would he see her again? He’d have no cause to. The thought made him feel…not lonely. Just alone.
But because he didn’t know of anything he could do about it, he did what he always did. He took up her gloved hand and smiled down at her. And her eyes were sherry lit by candlelight, and the blush on her cheeks as wondrous as a peach sunrise over the Atlantic, and the beauty of her face was the surest proof of a God and his angels that Seth would ever, ever need.
And there wasn’t a thing the Worst Flirt in the Midlands could say but “Good-bye, Miss Mina.”
Her lips parted, but she seemed to change her mind and only smiled a little. “Good-bye, Mr. Mayhew. You and your sister will be in my prayers.”
She pulled her hand away and the loss left him cold and swaying on his feet. Yes, he must be damn tired.
“I’ll see you out,” Tom said, then turned to Mina. “Will you excuse me, Mina?”
She might have nodded but Seth didn’t look again. He busied himself with his gloves and headed to the door with Tom.
“There’s a man here tonight who might be willing to help,” Tom said.
Seth blew out a breath. “Might, huh?”
“Fallon’s his name, a clerk I’ve had dealings with. He’s been given permission to wed recently, so he’s likely about. I’ll say hello, but it won’t do to bring up all the particulars tonight. If we go through the correct channels—be proper, patient, even strategic—we might get the information we need.”
Seth’s doubt sank deeper. Proper, patient, strategic. Wasn’t his nature at all.
Tom asked the doorman to call a victoria for him, and they waited in the entry. A gentleman and his richly dressed wife passed by without acknowledging either of them.
When they were past hearing, Seth grumbled, “I spoke to that gent earlier. Said he’d do what he could. Wished me luck, even. Must’ve forgot me in the last quarter hour.”
“Frightfully short memory.”
“Bloody Company men,” Seth muttered, then remembered Tom. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
Out of the corner of his vision, a lady’s head bobbed out from the door of the conservatory to peek at him. It was just a flash of a little face and bouncing ringlets, and when he looked, she was gone.
Two other faces appeared from around the door to gawp and disappeared just as fast.
Seth blinked. No, those women wouldn’t have anything to do with him. But Tom was looking in the same direction. Suddenly, a half dozen ladies popped from around the door to look at him and stood whispering behind their hands.
And right in the middle of them was Mina.
She broke away from her friends and hurried toward him. And a lightning bolt of energy coursed through his body. Seth propped his hands on his hips and grinned as she approached. “There’s nothing better than the sight of a pretty lady coming to—”
“Would you give me one of your posters, Mr. Mayhew?”
“Uh…all right.” Seth fumbled with his roll of papers. It wasn’t the best compliment he’d ever given but—
“Did anyone offer to help you?” she asked. “Did you make any connections?”
He tensed with embarrassment. “Me and Tom are getting us a strategy. Proper channels and all that.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and Seth could have sworn she grew an inch with the straightening of her spine. Mina took the poster and hurried back to her friends.
She didn’t say good-bye this time. And she didn’t turn around.
He shuffled back to the door. “You’ll speak to Fallon then, Tom? That clerk?”
But Tom wasn’t with him. He stood watching the women with a bemused look on his face. “Huh.”
“What?” Seth followed Tom’s stare. The ladies were craning their necks to look at Georgie’s poster.
Tom smiled slowly. “I think Mina just found you a way into the East India Company.”
The ladies took out dainty pencils and notebooks to copy from his poster. And then it all became clear.
It became damn perfect.
The Fishing Fleet. His Fishing Fleet. Forty-four friends of Mina’s. Forty-four potential wives of Company men.
Men who’d do anything to prove themselves worthy of marriage. Like help find a wee orphan and a lost Englishwoman.
Seth laughed in surprise. “Damn me. I think I love that woman.” Seth patted Tom on the back. “I’m back to thinking you don’t deserve her anymore.”
But Tom laughed with him.
“Got myself a fleet of ladies now, Tom.” Seth rubbed his hands together. “Better go meet the reinforcements.”
“Wait, Mayhew.”
Seth pulled up. “Now what am I doing wrong?”
“You can’t approach those women without an introduction.”
“Miss Mina will—”
“A formal introduction. It’s not Mina’s place, and her friends won’t like it. These women have to appear all that’s proper. These early days are crucial for the unwed ladies.”
Damn. Why didn’t he know any of these rules?
Three more women joined Mina. Forty-four allies…if he used Mina. If he admitted he needed her help. Well…hell. He didn’t have time for stupid pride.
Besides, she knew what he was. And what he wasn’t.
“Going to have a quick word with Miss Mina, Tom.” Seth held up a staying hand. “I’ll be back directly.”
To his surprise, Tom didn’t follow or try to stop him. It was the alarm in Mina’s big, brown eyes that slowed his step. She handed Georgie’s poster to a lady next to her and hurried to him.
No, there was nothing better than the sight of a pretty girl coming to talk to you. Especially if that girl was composed, capable, and orderly-like—and blushed whenever you looked at her. Which he enjoyed doing more than he should.
“Did you wish to see me, Mr. Mayhew?”
“Every waking moment, Miss Mina.” He grinned. “Wanted to make the acquaintance of your friends—I know that can’t happen—but I appreciate your telling them about Georgie, which is the best notion and one I never would’ve thought of.
“Involving the wives might’ve been a bit of Lysistrata-without-the-war, but the venture girls are better. Tom’s Mr. Fallon was all the plan we had. Do you think we might give the ladies a few more of my posters?”
Mina squinted at him. Damn, he was talking all over the place. Like that frog she spoke of.
“Is Mr. Fallon the only connection Thomas has?” she asked.
Clever Mina. He nodded.
Her squint relaxed, but he could almost see her brain flipping through all his words. “You know Lysistrata, Mr. Mayhew?”
He shrugged. “We’ve a theater where I grew up. A good one.”
She smiled a little, so he moved closer. Having a fine lady to himself was nice. Tom Grant would be collecting her any minute.
“I saw lots of theatricals,” he said. “Shakespeare and that Aristophanes gent and Scribe. And melodramas, too, all the bloody ones like the Red Barn Murder. But I liked the old plays best. The players were good, too. People said they weren’t good enough for London, but they were. And real fine for Matlock.”
She stared at him, her pretty mouth dropped open with what looked like surprise. A very pretty mouth. And the most kissable—
“You’re from Matlock? I’m from Chesterfield.”
“You’re not! My mates live there—the Douglas boys. And me and Freddy Kent went to the public school together.”
“Fred’s sister was my friend.” She shook her head, her eyes widening. “I thought there was something familiar—it wasn’t your voice; it was your speech at times. East Midlands.”
He winced a little. “I med a right codge of it then, m’lover, if’n you know’d ’ow I spake.”
She giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, enough, Mr. Mayhew. You mustn’t give us away.”
He smiled because he’d finally made the little officer laugh, but she didn’t know how hard it had been to correct the way he talked. One schoolmaster had corrected it with a switch of rowan tree, when he bothered trying to teach him at all.
His father’s speech was worse—pure Black Country. As a boy, Seth hadn’t understood him. And the man hadn’t stayed long enough for him to learn.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mayhew,” she said, still smiling. “It’s actually rather wonderful to hear again.”
He’d never known brown eyes could shine with all that gold in them. They might have been reflecting the glow of a fire. “Is that so?” he murmured.
And though he’d not told anyone, he wanted to tell her. Wasn’t anyone to tell, really—no one that wouldn’t laugh at him.
He dipped his head closer to speak just for her hearing, and her eyes were still glowing. “I, uh…I bought myself a bit of land just west of there. That orchid I found, that Wilhelmina orchid, sold for a good amount, and I bought as much land as I could. Near a thousand acres. Not all of it worth farming—some oats maybe, but I’m thinking sheep, an orchard, a kitchen garden, too.”
“You have land in Derbyshire?”
Her eyes grew huge and he felt damn near ten feet tall. So he wouldn’t tell her the bit about how Old Man Hartwig had said the hedgerows were dead and the cottage roof would fall in so it was good Seth had a head like a rock. But Hartwig was just a cranky, old pinch-fart.
And he wouldn’t tell her the rest of it. How even though he’d sold the prize orchid for all that acreage, he couldn’t afford to make the repairs to all the buildings that stood on that land.
But Seth wouldn’t call that a curse. Because if he did, that meant he was doomed to fail in this expedition, too.
And that meant he wouldn’t find Georgie alive.
He shook his mind free of that hellish thought. “And it’s, uh…it’s got a handsome stone cottage, too. It needs mending, though, and a hedgerow that’s not been trimmed since the Romans, but I’ll be fixing it up. Eventually—soon. Real soon.”
She nodded quickly. “A home needs all sorts of maintenance. I tended my family’s garden. I would so enjoy that employment again.”
He grinned and waited for her to continue. But she wasn’t saying anything. He shifted his weight. And shifted back. And her smile was…encouraging?
Did she want him to talk more?
Well.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve a plan on that cottage, of course. My Wilhelmina orchid was described and sold, straightaway, but I found lots more prizes than that. Had them in seed, though. Some of the prettiest flowers you’ll ever see, and lots of practical plants, too. My best mates have those in England; they’re looking after them for me. They’re plantsmen, cultivators.
“I had over a dozen orchids that I shipped, too, but I’m not sure if they’re new discoveries. But if they are, and they sell for a good amount, I’ll have the money to fix up all my outbuildings, the stable and washhouse and granary.”
He paused, checking her eyes for glazing or puzzlement. He grinned when he saw neither. “And if those seeds are viable, I’ll be able to marry, too. And keep a family.”
“That sounds really perfect, Mr. Mayhew.”
And the way she said it, he believed she meant it. Would Mina have herself a little garden here? “It does, doesn’t it?” he murmured.
“And your land? What is it like?”
He smiled, seeing that landscape in his head. “There’s a stream that flows right through this flat valley and into a grove of birch that might be out of a painting. And the grass all around it—green and soft and cool, like it was begging you to take off your boots and sit down for a picnic.”
“Is there a footbridge? My favorite walk was across the Hipper River and there was a bridge of stepping stones across the water.”
“Stepping stones, eh?” For the first time in his knowing her, Mina’s face went all soft and wistful and he wasn’t about to disappoint her. “I’ll build one just because you said it.”
She blushed deep. Maybe Miss Mina liked his compliments, after all.
And didn’t he like looking at that face? Maybe because she seemed to like what she was seeing, too. Even if he wasn’t a gentleman. He could almost pretend there was something there that wouldn’t mind kissing him.
Damn…
“Why is it we never rubbed shoulders till we found ourselves here?” he said.
“Fate, I suppose,” she said softly.
Fate. He never had any use for it.
Georgie’s face looked at him from her missing poster. “I had a thought to go over and introduce myself to your friends.”
That worried look sprang to Mina’s face again.
“But Tom tells me it’s not done,” he said.
“You mustn’t think they don’t want to help. It is just that they’re aware a man like you will distract them.”
“I didn’t plan on any distracting.” Mina’s face was getting that peach blush again, which was distracting enough.
“No, of course you don’t. But they are here to meet potential husbands.”
“I know it.” A bit of lace peeked from her sleeve and he tapped it. “What’s this, Miss Mina?”
She pulled it out and gave it to him. “A handkerchief. It is only that—”
“Did you stitch these little flowers?”
“I did, yes. But the women—”
“Bluebells, right?”
“Yes. Only that you could sway the ladies from their purpose if—oh, thank you”—she took back her handkerchief—“well, I think you understand what I’m trying to say.”
She’d stopped talking, and when he looked up, her brown eyes were scanning his.
“Mr. Mayhew?”
So damn pretty. He grinned. “I’m listening, Miss Mina.”
She squared herself in front of him as if she wanted to wrangle his full attention. She had it, but he didn’t mind her placing herself just so.
“It is just that you mustn’t distract them with your masculine wiles.”
The hell? He roared with laughter—something he’d not done in longer than he could remember. “My wiles, is it? No one’s accused me of such before. I thank you. What wiles might those be? My frog brain?”
“Your brain is fine.”
She sounded almost angry, and it made him like her all the more.
“You possess many attractions,” she said.
“Attractions?” He rubbed his jaw, damn curious what Mina would say. “What might those be?”
“Well…” Her gaze drifted to his…chest? Belt? Shoes?
“You possess a very handsome form,” she said so low he had to bend his head to hear.
Handsome? He looked down at himself. And it was a long way down. Hulking, maybe. “You don’t mean my constitution? Or something in the way of stamina?”
A question flickered in her eyes before she blinked it away. “I…I don’t wish to speak of stamina, Mr. Mayhew.”
Now she wasn’t looking at him at all. “Why don’t you call me Seth?”
That worked. She looked at him over her burning cheeks. “I don’t think—”
“And I’ll call you Minnie.”
She blinked. “My friends call me Mina.”
“Am I your friend?”
“I don’t know. Aren’t you?”
“Not sure,” he said. “Who calls you Minnie, then?”
“No one.”
He grinned. “Good.”
She started to speak, then looked to be weighing his request—just like a lady would, just to be nice and polite.
“Minnie makes me sound small,” she said.
“I know it. But I could carry you around in my pocket, couldn’t I?” He crossed his arms and winked.
“Stop that, Mr. Mayhew. That is seven times now.”
He didn’t know what she was saying there. He shook his head, chuckling. “I don’t know about wiles, Minnie—”
“Mina. Or Wilhelmina, or—”
“I don’t know any other way to talk to women except with a little teasing. It might do me a harm to try. Georgie always said I was the Worst Flirt in the Midlands.”
Whatever he said seemed to sober her, and she dropped her gaze. “Yes.” She threaded her hand around his arm. “Shall we return to Thomas?”
Disappointment swept over him, but he stood straighter anyway. It was a rare thing to escort a lady anyplace. Even if it was only across a room. “So, Miss Mina, as I’m not proper, will you speak for me?”
“You’re not improper, just distracting.” She shook her head a little. “I’ve offended your feelings—I’m sorry. You and your wiles are blameless, so you mustn’t be uncomfortable if the ladies imagine you an object of attraction.”
An object of attraction…? He considered that. “No. I’ve no objection to that.”
She shot him a confused look, and his heart softened seeing the peach tips of her ears. The woman could blush there, too. But she’d not answered his question. “So would you? Speak for me?”
She raised her chin and looked him straight in the eye. His little officer again. “I will do everything I can to help you.”
Ah…damn. He was a little in love with her.
Someday, he might meet another lady as fine as her who wouldn’t mind marrying him. A lady who’d be such a credit to him that people would think twice about seeing him as just a laboring man. And they’d live in a house with a library full of books she’d probably already read, and a pianoforte their children knew how to play. Someday. If he wasn’t cursed.
She shied from his gaze and looked into the conservatory. At Tom.
She pulled her hand from his arm. “I understand you and Thomas were invited to the picnic and snipe hunt tomorrow at Vehar Lake.”
“I heard that, but it’s not likely we’ll attend with all there is to do.”
“Could you both come along after your work is done? I had hoped to see Thomas.”
He huffed a surprised laugh. “You do speak plain, Minnie.” And damn if it didn’t hurt his feelings. “Tom and me, we have telegrams to send, and plans to make, and that Mr. Fallon to meet.”
“The carriages do not leave until eleven.” She planted herself square in front of him again, her head tilted back to look straight at him, and he was caught by those big, brown eyes. “Please, Mr. Mayhew?”
Well…hell.
“The hunt would not be a bad use of your time,” she said. “If you spend the forenoon on your planning and letters, the rest of the day could be employed reminding others of your search.”
Seth bit back a sigh. Mina was making sense. It wasn’t as if he could go haring off to all the corners of Asia without information. Patient, polite, proper channels, and all that.
“That sounds real fine, Minnie.” And it would be fine. It was going to have to be.
“And you’ll bring Thomas?” she asked.
“I’m thinking Tom will want to be anywhere you’re at.”
“Do you think so?”
Her eyes were shiny with hope and he raked a hand through his hair. Damn awkward. She needed Tom for marrying and Seth needed him to find Georgie—anywhere that might be. Once time came to travel, nothing would stop him from taking Tom with him. Away from Mina.
There wasn’t but one solution he could think of: Tom had to wed her.
So he’d better do it damn soon.