Sharon Sobel by The Eyes of Lady Claire (v5.0) (epub) Read Free Book Online Page B

a small table near the window, beckoning Claire to follow. “I have never heard of a lady solicitor, but I believe one would do very well. Most females manage to get precisely what they desire.”
    Camille sighed, while Claire looked in wonderment from one to the other. Dear God, she was indeed acting as chaperone today. Did Mrs. Brooks know of this friendship? Was it sanctioned by Lord Wentworth? Was such a visit possible only because Camille’s protective brother was far from Middlebury, Yorkshire, and England?
    All these things were thoughts for serious contemplation, though not more so than Claire feeling very mature and matronly at all of twenty-eight years of age.
    They sat companionably at the little table, with Camille facing the window and its light. Mr. Cosgrove took her hand and stripped off her glove before placing her fingers around the fork in front of her. She explored the implement before setting it down and finding her spoon.
    “Do you usually conduct business in a posting house, Mr. Cosgrove?” Claire asked, managing to find her fork on her own.
    “I do, when circumstances allow. Most often, I call upon my clients at their own home.”
    “As you were doing just the other day, when I arrived at Brookside Cottage?” Claire countered, trying to make it very clear she did not miss a thing. It would be very easy to fall into a trusting relationship with this man, but she would not be caught until she understood the whole of the situation.
    “Mr. Cosgrove was paying a social call then, Lady Claire,” Camille said. “We are old friends, you know.”
    “No, I did not know. I only assumed Mr. Cosgrove came on business because you have a letter to deliver to him today. Is that not why we have come?”
    “Of course,” Camille said, and pulled a sealed paper from her straw basket. She held it aloft until Mr. Cosgrove retrieved it from her hand. He looked at it with such interest, Claire thought he could see through the paper, but he tucked it into his jacket without opening it. Claire caught a faint whiff of lavender and did not think it was coming from his neatly starched shirt.
    “Will you remain in Middlebury until our next Assembly Ball, my lady?” Mr. Cosgrove asked Claire. “Country dances are nothing to London balls, but perhaps that is why they are more enjoyable.”
    “And have you attended many balls in London, Mr. Cosgrove?” Claire asked pointedly.
    “I have, Lady Claire,” he said tersely, and turned his attention back to Camille. “Have you heard from your brother, Lady Camille?”
    “I received only one brief note from Maxwell, and he said very little. I suppose he does not want me to know where he is and what danger he might be facing.”
    James Cosgrove nodded thoughtfully. “He ought remember you are a grown lady and understand something of his business abroad. Some knowledge is a good thing.”
    “Are you friends with Lord Wentworth as well, Mr. Cosgrove?”
    Camille laughed nervously. “Of course, Lady Claire. How could it be otherwise? Jamie has known us all our lives and is a frequent guest at Brookside Cottage.”
    And yet both her companions were somewhat on edge, Claire thought. And the use of Mr. Cosgrove’s first name was somewhat unusual in business dealings.
    “I think I should enjoy a country ball, Mr. Cosgrove,” Claire said. “Lady Camille is accustomed to managing without my help but in this case I shall require hers. I only hope I manage to find a partner or two. Dare I request a set of you, Mr. Cosgrove? As a mature widow, I am allowed to be forward in this regard.”
    “Of course I will introduce you to all the guests, Lady Claire,” said Camille. “And Jamie would take great pleasure in dancing with you.”
    Lady Camille spoke as one who was confident that what she asked of a man would not be refused.
    ***
    The daylight was waning when Claire stepped out, by herself, from Brookside Cottage, desiring some air and time for reflection. When she arrived