Waldorf. In fact, Iâm not sure you can afford to stay here, either. Perhaps you should go to the Windermeresâ after all? It would be less expensive.â
âOnly in some ways, Sylvia. As for what we can afford, weâre so far in debt, a few weeks at the Waldorf wonât make a damned bit of difference. Shall we go down, or have our meal sent up? They can do that hereâroom service, they call it.â
Before she could answer, there was a knock on the door.
âGood Lord,â Christian muttered. âMy rooms are as lively today as the Doncaster Races. If thatâs room service, I shall have to compliment the management on their perspicacity.â
McIntyre entered from the bedroom. âAre ye in, sir?â he asked, pausing beside Christian.
He glanced at his sister. âIf itâs any young American woman with a mother tagging along, then no, I am not in.â
McIntyre, a long-faced Scot with no sense of humor, simply bowed. âVerra good, sir.â
Christian and Sylvia waited in the sitting room, which was obscured from the door by a painted Oriental screen, as McIntyre answered the knock. There was a low murmur of voices, then the door closed and McIntyre reappeared, a card in his hand.
âA Mr. Ransom to see you, Your Grace. He requests a few moments, if you are free?â
âRansom?â he echoed in surprise. âArthur Ransom? Show him in,â he added as his valet nodded confirmation.
âArthur Ransom is Annabel Wheatonâs uncle,â Sylvia murmured as McIntyre started back toward the door. âThe girl we talked about, the heiress Rumsford is marrying. Why does her uncle want to see you?â
âI have no idea,â he answered, and stepped forward to greet the lawyer as he was shown in. âMr. Ransom, this is a welcome surprise.â He gestured to Sylvia, who had moved to stand beside him. âAre you acquainted with my sister, Lady Sylvia Shaw?â
âI havenât yet had the pleasure.â Mr. Ransom smiled, then he took up Sylviaâs hand and kissed it, making no effort to conceal his admiration. âPleased to make your acquaintance.â
âAnd I yours, Mr. Ransom,â she answered. âYour niece is to marry Lord Rumsford, I understand, and the earl was kind enough to include me among the invitedââ
She stopped, for there was no mistaking Ransomâs grimace at the mention of his nieceâs upcoming wedding. Always sensitive to such nuances, Sylvia changed the subject at once. âWould you care for tea?â she asked, gesturing to the tray on the table.
âThank you, maâam, but teaâs something Iâve never been able to cotton much to. Besides, this isnât really a social call, Iâm afraid. Iâve come to see your brother on matter of business. That is,â he added, turning to Christian, âif youâre interested, Your Grace?â
âOf course,â he answered, slanting a glance at his sister.
Sylvia took her cue.
âI shall leave the two of you to your discussions,â she said, reaching for her handbag, âand I shall toddle off to pack. I look forward to seeing you aboard ship, Mr. Ransom. Christian, Iâll send my maid to tell you when Iâm ready to depart?â
He nodded, and with that, Sylvia left the suite, allowing him to give the American his full attention. âShall we sit down?â he asked, and gestured Ransom toward Sylviaâs vacated settee. Once the other man was seated, he started back over to the liquor cabinet. âWould you care for a drink? Thereâs quite a fine Scotch whiskey here, a tolerable Irishââ
âIf thereâs bourbon, count me in.â
âBourbon?â He rummaged a bit amid the glass decanters. âHmm, I donâtââ
âAllow me, sir,â McIntyre interjected, stepping from behind the screen where he had just closed the door after Sylvia.
Learning to Kill: Stories