Chapter 20

“You’re a fraud, James.”

“I. Beg. Your. Pardon?”

He cast a quick glance toward the compartment’s door, but the corridor was empty. He shifted across to sit beside me, kissed my cheek, and slid an arm across my shoulders for a bracing hug. “You try to give the impression that you’re just a…a toff.”

“I am a toff, I’ll have you know.” I straightened and peered down my nose at him. “I come from a long line of toffs.”

“Of course you do.” He kissed my cheek again, this time placing it a trifle closer to my mouth. “I’ve no pull with Father, but if I did, I’d make sure your first assignment was to California.” He tightened his grip for a moment, then released me and returned to the seat opposite.

* * * *

That evening, we dressed carefully in our smartened togs, passed Mother’s stringent inspection, then hailed a cab to Mayfair and presented ourselves at his father’s door at precisely eight P.M.

His housekeeper ushered us into the drawing room where Mr Waters awaited us.