"I have called a meeting with the other lords," he said after he had washed the scone down with hot tea that he had added three lumps of sugar to. "We will meet this afternoon and discuss this matter before anyone leaves London."
"Are you all lords?"
"All nobility, yes."
Poppy had a horrible feeling she would start drooling soon if she did not eat. Peeling off her gloves, she took a scone. Her stomach rumbled as she bit into the doughy delight. Closing her eyes, she remembered her grandmother's scones. They had tasted like this. A wave of homesickness washed over her.
"Miss March, are you all right?"
She nodded, and took another bite.
"My grandmother's friend Lady Carver, who is friendly with Lady Revel, is still in London-"
"Oh yes, she is a wonderful lady."
"She is, and I will send word to her and see when last she spoke with her friend."
"My fear is that he is starving her. Nigel, the footman you saw this morning, told me he had tried Lady Revel's door again last night, and still it was locked. When he knocked, she did not answer. Plus, he, that heinous man, has someone sitting beside Lady Revel's door to ensure no one enters."
"We will get to the bottom of this, Miss March."
Poppy took a cake this time. It was delicious, and as she had not eaten anything yet today, her stomach was happy. She would eat until she was full, and then not need to eat again until the morning.
"I tried to climb up to her window the other day but-"
"Isn't her room on the third floor?"
Poppy nodded, and swallowed the last bite. She shot him a look; had she just eaten that cake too quickly? Glancing right and left, she wondered if anyone had noticed.
"How did you think you could reach her room?"
"There is a ladder, I had thought to use that, but then I did not want to frighten Lady Revel by appearing suddenly, so I decided not to."
"We can be thankful for that small mercy at least then."
"I was worried," Poppy said.
"Well, now you have someone to share your worry, therefore you need take no more risks."
Dare she take another scone? There were three left on the plate, which would leave him two.
"May I also suggest you have a care, as whoever tried to dispose of you will still be out there somewhere."
And just like that her appetite fled.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jacob had never met a woman like Miss March before. She was a complex mix of people. The prim vicar's daughter, the fiery, independent woman, and the girl who was hungry and struggling to survive in this city that could be a cruel place to those without money and support.
"More tea?"
"I can pour." She reached for the pot, but as he had it in his hand, he lifted it out of her reach.
"As can I."
She allowed him to fill her cup, but he could see that she was not comfortable with him serving her. She added sugar, and lifted the cup and sipped. She seemed to savor every mouthful she took, of either the tea or the food. Jacob did not like to think of this woman going hungry, and he was not entirely sure why, as he had seen many people who did, and other than a flash of sympathy, he did not suffer unduly. Did that make him cold? Possibly, but after the things he had seen, that was the only way he could cope.
He was still reeling from the fact that she had thanked him for fighting for his country. No one had ever done that before. Most people avoided the subject and refused to acknowledge the men who walked among them with blank stares and missing limbs, as Miss March had said.
Jacob rarely acknowledged, even to himself, that he still suffered from his days spent fighting for his country.
"Would you care for another scone?"
She shook her head after looking longingly at the plate he tapped.
"Why will you not eat it when you obviously want it?" She frustrated him because she continually challenged his word. The woman was without funds or a positon, in fact she was more than likely struggling for survival, and yet she refused to acknowledge that or take the help he offered. Jacob had to admire her spirit, no matter how misguided it was.
"I am quite full, thank you."
"Patience?"
She shook her head.
"Penelope?"
"No, now please excuse me, my lord, I have somewhere to be."
"Where?" Jacob liked to watch her, as she seemed to constantly be moving. Her eyes, hands, lips, which were surprisingly full and pink. He wondered what they'd taste like.
"I hardly think that concerns you, my lord."