Regency Improprieties: Innocence and Impropriety / The Vanishing Viscountess. Diane Gaston

sidled up to the desk and leaned over Flynn to look at the numbers on the page. ‘I trust nothing is amiss?’

      Flynn could feel Tanner breathing down his neck. ‘All is as it should be—but I have not tabulated the whole list.’

      ‘I despise sums.’ Tanner lumbered away, pulling books off the bookshelves, opening them, then slamming them shut again, and shoving them back into place.

      Flynn closed his eyes and waited for the wave of hammering in his head to subside.

      ‘So!’ said Tanner, so loud Flynn thought his head would blow apart. ‘What is next in this game of ours? I say, this is more like a chess game every day, except not so ghastly tedious.’

      A chess game, indeed, thought Flynn. The Queen was the prize. And after his behaviour the previous night, Flynn was a rook. ‘It is time to deal with the father. Make the offer.’

      Tanner stood before him, hands on his hips, head cocked. ‘I had surmised more pursuit was in order. The girl hardly seems willing.’ He looked pensive. ‘I knew she’d be a challenge. She should come around after Ayrton puts her in the opera. How long do you think that will be?’