Free Enticing Miss Eugenie Villaret by Ella Quinn

“Yes, I need you to find a Mr. Edgar Shipley, merchant, and discover what you can about his personal habits.”
    “He the gent that’s causin’ problems for the Wivenlys here?”
    “The very same.” Will took a sip of tea. “Do you have sufficient funds?”
    Griff patted his pocket. “Got plenty left from yesterday. Good thing this place ain’t too big.”
    “See if you can discover if he keeps regular habits and where he lives.” Tidwell had already ascertained the man was not staying at the Queen.
    “You leave it to me.” The groom tapped the side of his nose. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
    Andrew entered the parlor as Griff left. “The merchant?”
    “Yes.” Will nodded. “My groom saw a man who might be Shipley enter and leave Wivenly Imports yesterday. Griff couldn’t follow him at the time, but made inquiries about where a man might stay on a semipermanent basis. If anyone can locate the blackguard, he will.”
    When a fresh pot of tea arrived, Andrew poured a cup. “I shall do a bit of investigating myself, but in the business quarters.”
    Will swallowed his tea and frowned. “How are you going to do that? I thought you didn’t know anyone here.”
    “Ah”—Andrew gave a sly smile—“I had the forethought to bring letters of introduction from my grandfather.”
    “You’re a good friend, Andrew.” Will’s gaze was pulled to the water in the harbor as he took a bite of the buttered Dum bread stuffed with cheese.
    “I am, and you can be sure I shall not allow you to forget it.” Andrew glanced at the table and sideboard. “Any chance of getting toast?”
    “Only if you want it cold or soggy. I’ve been told the kitchen is too far away. Try this.” Will pushed the plate of bread toward his friend. “It’s not bad.”
    He went back to wondering when he’d be able to search for Mrs. Villaret.
    Andrew inspected the dishes set on the sideboard. “I’m sure it’s fine, but I’m going to eat something more than bread.”
    “I’ll join you.” Suddenly hungry again, Will rose. “Starving myself won’t help anyone.”
    Andrew pulled out his quizzing glass. “I don’t know where you put it. The way you eat you should be as fat as Prinny.”
    “Healthy appetites run in the family.” Will slapped his flat stomach. “Even my sisters have them.”
    “Harrumph.”
    He helped himself to another piece of Dum bread. Fortunately luncheon wasn’t too many hours away.
    After breakfast, he visited the tailor, then walked around town hoping to see Mrs. Villaret again. Shortly after noon, in a new coat that fitted him, and armed with a description of Mr. Shipley, Will climbed the stairs of the tavern across the street from the warehouses and docks.
    The Green Parrot was a whimsical name for the well-appointed restaurant and bar popular with the wealthy merchants. Blindingly white cloths graced each table. The roof’s slight overhang helped to ensure the midday sun didn’t broach the interior, yet even in the dim light, the flatware and crystal sparkled. Will was sure that in England it would be called the King’s Arms or something like that.
    He raised his quizzing glass as if to study the dining room, and his gaze hit the merchant, Mr. Edgar Shipley. He looked exactly as Will’s groom said he would—fat, though a kinder person would have referred to Shipley as portly. The man was also balding, and his complexion was florid. Will stopped just long enough to see Shipley glance irritably at his pocket watch. Obviously a man who valued punctuality. Hopefully he placed an equal significance on regular habits.
    “Sir, will you be dining with us to-day?”
    Will looked toward the voice and then down. A short, rather rotund, dark-skinned man, dressed in a deep blue suit, waited for his response. “Yes, I’ve heard you have the best luncheon in town.”
    The man bowed. “That we do, sir. Dinner as well, but you’ll be staying at the Queen, I imagine.”
    “Indeed.” How the