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A woman neared and placed a cup of tea with cream in front of him, then quickly walked away. “I’d hoped to order toast,” Alexander said, peering down at his tea. “I’m hungry.”

“We should go home, then,” William said. “I am sure there is plenty of food left from the tea Mother and Clara hosted earlier this afternoon.”

They made their way from the coffee shop toward the townhouse. The carriage was forced to a slow pace by the many people out and about.

With all the entertaining, servants were dispatched to every corner of London to find specific items for the evening soirees. From geese to crystal, every item imaginable had to be acquired for London’s elite to impress each other.

“I hope we do not have any social events pressing,” Alex said to William. “If so, I will not attend.”

William laughed. “Unfortunately, it will be impossible for you to be absent.”

Straightening, he frowned at his friend. “Why?”

“Because Mother and Clara are entertaining at the townhouse tonight. Not only the Humphries family, but also the Barrows.”

“The Barrows?” Alexander had met Lord and Lady Barrow on several occasions. They were an agreeable pair. So much so that their social status had not even been affected by their son’s unfortunate fall from grace.

“Any word on their son?”

William shrugged. “It has been almost five years since he left for India. I suspect he will return soon.”

“Society has a good memory when it comes to scandal. Even if he waits ten years, Gideon Barrow will always be considered dishonorable.” Alex chuckled. “Which is why I like him.”

“I do as well,” his friend agreed.

“Let me out,” Alex said upon spotting something interesting through a bakery window. “I will be along soon.” Before William could ask, not that his friend seemed inclined to, Alex exited the coach.

“...and two of those please.” The woman leaned over the display case, a basket firmly in her hand. “Add the third one so it won’t remain alone.”

The singsong voice made the corners of his lips inch up.

“Miss Humphries.”

Vivian Humphries started, her wide eyes turning to him. “Mr. Yarnsby, you startled me half to death.”

“I apologize.” He gave a slight bow.

Her gaze moved from him to the doorway. It was then he noted she was alone. Not acceptable for a woman of her social stature.

“Why are you here?” she asked, a challenge in her voice. “This is not near the Torrington townhouse.”

“Nor is it near your home,” he replied, then regretted the childish retort.

“My cousin Glenda lives around the corner. I am on my way to visit.” Once again, she looked to the doorway. “Are you alone?”

Alex nodded. “Indeed, I am. To answer your question, I am here because I am very hungry.”

“I see,” she replied, accepting the wrapped pastries from the woman behind the counter.

When he did not move or reply, her cheeks pinkened.

“Good day, Mr. Yarnsby.” She rounded him and walked out.

“Sir?” the woman behind the counter asked.

Torn between his stomach’s growl and curiosity, Alex decided to follow Vivian. It was most uncommon for a woman to be out alone without escort. A part of him couldn’t help but wonder if she was out to meet with the blob of man she’d invited to dinner the night before.

The wind seemed colder as he turned the corner in the direction Vivian had gone. Sure enough, she was alone.