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they were perceptible to his discerning eye nonetheless.
    So how had Eliza and her sisters managed?
    He leaned against the counter and waited for Eliza to fetch her cloak. He was tempted to stroll to the back room. He could learn much more about the business from the back. But it was his first time here and he didn’t want to press his advantage just yet.
    Eliza was going to introduce him to Mr. Cain, and he wanted to question the man.
    The curtain to the workroom parted, and Eliza came forward. She was dressed entirely in gray, complete with a plain gray bonnet. The fabric was cheap, coarse wool and the dress had a high collar. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun that was more suitable for an aging governess than for the striking widow he’d first seen at the Tutton auction. Donning a wool cloak the exact unappealing shade as her gown and tying the strings of a bonnet under her chin, she appeared covered from head to toe.
    For some reason, he wanted to tear the coarse wool from her shoulders, toss the bonnet aside, and loosen her ebony hair. Jonathan Miller had been knighted before his disgrace, and his daughters should have dressed in fine silks and satins.
    “My carriage is ready out front, Mrs. Somerton,” he said, motioning to the door.
    She hesitated and met his eyes. “I beg you to reconsider. I do think it’s best if I go alone.”
    There was no way he was letting her question Mr. Cain without him, but his curiosity was piqued. There was an air of apprehension about her that was oddly disconcerting. “Why?”
    She shrugged her shoulders. “Mr. Cain’s warehouse is near the docks, hardly a location for a lofty lord.”
    He arched a dark brow. “Should I take offense? I’ve never been called lofty before. And what about you? Is this warehouse a proper location for a lady?”
    “I’m a shopkeeper, not a lady. I am accustomed to Mr. Cain and I frequent his warehouse to buy most of my supplies.”
    “Is there something I should know about this Mr. Cain?”
    “He’s particular about whom he sells to, my lord. His prices fluctuate depending on who his customers are. As soon as he learns an earl has frequented his warehouse, his greed will show through.”
    “I understand your concern, but we are not intending to purchase today.”
    Her green eyes widened. “Oh, but we must. Mr. Cain is pleasant only when he makes a sale. I thought to purchase some supplies first and then question him.”
    “All right. If my presence results in an inflated price today, then I shall account for the difference. Does that put your mind at ease?”
    She bit her full bottom lip. “I suppose so.”
    His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he had a maddening urge to kiss her, to lick her delectable bottom lip.
    Damnation. Now was not the time. He needed a clear head and all his wits for their trip to the warehouse.
    He assisted her into his carriage and told his coachman the address. A cold rain had started and pattered against the roof of the coach. Eliza sat stiffly across from him, her hands folded in her lap while she looked out the window. She was silent and made no effort to strike up a conversation. Just like at the Tutton auction, he found her easy dismissal of him disturbing. His fingers itched to touch her, to thaw the icy exterior and unleash her passionate nature that he suspected she kept well hidden.
    Soon the stench of the London docks permeated the coach, and the masts of tall ships loomed in the distance. The carriage swayed on the cobbled street until the view of the river was blocked by immense warehouses situated close together.
    Just then, there was a jingle of harness and the carriage jerked to an abrupt stop. Shouts sounded ahead.
    “What in the world?” Eliza said.
    “Stay here.” Grayson opened the door and hopped out.
    A brewer’s cart had overturned in the road. Barrels of beer scattered across the cobbled road, blocking the path.
    Grayson opened the carriage door and spoke to Eliza. “We have to