—John Milton Alex was checking the population figures in his report when a discreet rap on the study door made him look up. “Yes?” Oliver poked his head in. “Am I interrupting?” His eyes swept over the stacks of books and papers on Alex’s desk. “Never mind. I can see I am. I’ll come back later.” Alex tossed his pen down. “No, stay. I could stand to break off for a few minutes. The numbers are starting to swim on the page.” He sat back, frowning slightly. “I thought you were promised to Sherbourne Park for dinner.” Oliver shrugged. “I am, but I doubt I’ll be missed if I’m late.” At Alex’s quizzical look, he leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms. “How well do you know Miss Sherbourne?” “Well enough. She’s a neighbor, and Lady Ayersley’s close friend. Why, is there some problem?” “Not really a problem.
