"And then," he stated, "we'll settle the rest."
She was tempted to raise a brow; caution stepped in and prevented it. When she simply held his gaze, he nodded.
"I'll call on you tomorrow."
She'd never been afraid of Gabriel; after careful consideration, Alathea concluded she still wasn't. It wasn't fear that tightened her nerves when she caught sight of him while strolling in the park; it was anticipation, but of what she wasn't sure.
Together with Mary, Alice, Heather, and Eliza, she'd been strolling for twenty minutes. Lord Esher and his friend Mr. Carstairs, of the Finchley-Carstairs, young gentlemen of impeccable credentials, had joined the group, his lordship to chat with Mary, while Mr. Carstairs manfully engaged the others, although his gaze strayed frequently to Alice's face.
Ambling in the rear, Alathea had watched the budding romances with an approving eye, until she saw Gabriel approaching. After that, she saw nothing beyond him, severely elegant in morning coat, buckskin breeches, and Hessians, the breeze ruffling his chestnut locks. His expression easy, he greeted her sisters and his with brotherly familiarity, appraised the suddenly tense young men, and nodded his approval. Then his gaze slid to her. Deserting the younger crew, he strolled to her side.
Alathea locked both hands on her parasol handle and prayed he wouldn't commandeer one.
His eyes met hers, then his brow quirked. "I don't bite," he murmured, as he halted beside her. "At least," he amended, voice deepening, "not in public."
Awareness swept her; she felt her blush rise. He viewed the sight, his brow quirked again, then he turned and surveyed the group moving far ahead of them. "I suppose we'd better keep them in sight."
"Indeed." Alathea stepped out; he fell in beside her.
"Have you heard from Wiggs yet?"
"No-his appointment was scheduled for eleven." It was only just past noon.
"Will you be at the Clares' ball tonight?"
"Yes."
"Good-I'll meet you there."
Alathea nodded. That was one benefit of the countess's unmasking; they could now easily meet to exchange
information. "I read that explorer's book, at least the relevant parts."
As she jiggled her parasol and dug into her reticule, she felt Gabriel's gaze on her face.
"Burning the midnight oil?"
She flicked him a glance. She didn't need him to tell her she had rings under her eyes. "When else would I get time to read?"
The tartness of the reply had no discernible effect. "Running yourself ragged isn't going to help. What's this?" He took the sheet she thrust at him.
"That's the description the explorer gave of those three towns."
He perused it as they strolled; his brows gradually rose. "How very interesting. When was this explorer in these parts?"
"Only early last year. The book's just been published." Alathea leaned closer, peering at the sheet. She tapped one paragraph. "As I recall, Crowley said the company had purchased a large building in Fangak from some French government agency to house the workers involved in the construction of the company's mines. According to the explorer, Fangak is 'a collection of flimsy wooden huts far from civilization'."
"Crowley also said Lodwar was on a major road. Instead, it appears to be a tiny settlement halfway up a rugged mountainside, 'well away from the beaten track'."
Alathea glanced at his face. "It's evidence, isn't it?"
He looked at her, then nodded. Folding the note, he slipped it into his pocket. "But we'll need more." He looked at the group ahead of them. "How's that shaping?"
"Promisingly. Esher becomes more definite by the day, while Carstairs…" Tilting her head, Alathea considered the young gentleman. "I think he's trying to screw his courage to the sticking point, but is having a hard time believing that it's actually happened to him."
Gabriel snorted. "Poor bugger."
Alathea pretended not to hear.