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property holdings Jasper had requested when her man of affairs was announced. She looked up at the somberly dressed but friendly-faced man in her study doorway, and gestured for him to take a seat before her desk. “Good morning, Mr. Reynolds.”
    “An excellent morning, Miss Martin.” Terrance Reynolds sat and placed his satchel at his feet.
    She shook her head at the butler, who’d been waiting to relay a tea service request to the housekeeper. While she knew she should offer the courtesy, she truly didn’t have much to say, and she dreaded the awkwardness that would arise when she couldn’t fill the additional time with conversation. Some women possessed a talent for charming but meaningless discourse. Sadly, she was not one of them.
    “You will be happy to hear,” Reynolds began, “that I’ve found a shopkeeper for the vacant space on Peony Way. A purveyor of soaps, candles, and such.”
    “Excellent. You are most efficient, Mr. Reynolds.”
    “Thank you.”
    She set her quill aside, noting how much more comfortable she was talking to Reynolds than she was to Mr. Bond . . . Jasper. Yet that wasn’t to say she preferred the comfort of one over the excitement of the other, which made no sense, considering she’d never been one to enjoy excitation overmuch. Her mother’s life had forever been a series of crises and bursts of happiness interspersed with heated arguments and the depths of despair. Eliza had grown so weary of Georgina Tremaine Martin Chilcott’s incessant drama that she’d taken great pains to moderate her own life. She preferred private dinners to lavish balls, and the comfort of laying on her boudoir chaise with a book over literary luncheons. There was nothing at all soothing about Jasper Bond, and she was intrigued by the fact that she missed the heightened awareness she felt in his presence.
    Eliza returned her attention to the man sitting across from her. “You mentioned last week that your brother’s employer had passed on. Is he still in search of employment?”
    The males in the Reynolds family were all in trade as men of affairs and bookkeepers. She’d been briefly introduced to another of the siblings, Tobias Reynolds, who was possessed of the same golden locks and green-as-glass eyes as Terrance. She had henceforth inquired about Tobias on occasion—part of a well-meant but surprisingly arduous attempt to be more personable—and she’d learned of his misfortune in the course of those inquiries.
    “He’s been assisting our father and other brother,” Reynolds replied, “but yes, Tobias is without a permanent post at the moment.”
    “I should like to engage him, if he’s so inclined. He will have to travel and leave quickly, but the recompense should be sufficient to mitigate such inconveniences.”
    Reynolds frowned. “Where would you like him to go?”
    “County Wexford. There is a person of interest there I would like to know better. Family, circumstances, community stature. Things of that nature.” Eliza ignored the hint of unease that briefly plagued her. Yes, Jasper asserted that his past was irrelevant, and he was not a man one wished to cross. However, she had a right to know if she would be lying on his behalf, or if there was indeed more to her thief-taker than met the eye. “As always, discretion is the rule, but more so in this instance. I don’t want Lord Gresham to be aware of my interest. And timeliness will be rewarded.
    “Would you prefer me to see to it personally?” he offered.
    “No. I need you here. We’ll be advancing the monthly tour of my properties to the day after tomorrow.”
    “As you wish, Miss Martin. I will speak with my brother as soon as I depart.”
    “If you could also ascertain the extent of the allowance he feels will be sufficient to support the endeavor, I will ensure I have the amount available before he departs.”
    “Certainly.” He didn’t query her about the nature of her interest, which was why they worked well