“Ourprofits.” They were in this together. He didn’t think he’d quite realized that till now, or how much of a relief it was to find himself “saddled” with a wife who had turned out to be so competent.
If only he could persuade her to let him show her, physically, how grateful he was, life would be nearly perfect.
“Thank you.” He leaned closer, pressing his lips to the top of her head.
She stilled, drawing air in a soft, swift gasp. “You’re welcome. You can sit back down now.”
Her apparent discomfort was heartening. He didn’t sit back down. A long silence stretched between them before she continued.
“The point is, Amberley is quite a bit more profitable than Rankill led you to believe. Run properly, with no one siphoning income, it should be self-supporting and then some. I realize you have a standard of living to maintain—”
“Wehave a standard of living.” With his free hand, he skimmed his knuckles along her cheek.
A pink flush rose where he’d touched. “Well, yes. But, thankfully, it shouldn’t be long at all until this mess is resolved and Amberley can support both you—us—and the orphanage.” She paused for a breath. “So you can stop the robberies now, except…”
“Aye?”
“There are some matters that need attending. Depending on whether you think they or the children should come first.”
“What sort of matters?”
“Repairs and the like. Rankill took money regardless of whether you could afford it. Your people are working with broken equipment, one of the barns needs roofing—”
“You have a list?” He ran a finger down her nose and stopped with it on her lips.
“Y-yes,” she whispered against his fingertip. She pulled back, her elbow knocking a quill to the carpet.
“I’ll take care of it all.” He leaned down to retrieve the feather and flicked it under her chin, grinning at her discomposure. “I think I can survive another few highwayman masquerades.”
With any luck, that would be all it would take. He’d amassed much of the king’s evidence already.
“Weighing your safety against the children’s welfare—”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” she said.
She really hoped so.
In less than two weeks of being married to the Duke of Amberley, she’d been surprised to discover she liked her life here. Although she adored Jason’s wife, she hadn’t realized the tension she’d felt at Cainewood—how difficult it had been for her to cede responsibility when Caithren had arrived. Here, the responsibility was her own. The house, the land, the people. And like the extra layer of marzipan on her bride cake, she had her orphanage, too.
“Speaking of the children…” she began.
“Aye?” At last Trick dropped the quill on the desk and went back to sit and reclaim his drink.
Watching him, she realized this was the one chamber in Amberley House where he truly seemed at ease. Comfortable rather than opulent, it was furnished with the same classic eye to design as the cottage. Polish glinted from the deep grooves in the serviceable walnut desk where she sat, and the shelves behind Trick were stocked with well-read tomes.
“What about the children?” he asked.
“You’ll remember, before you left, that I said I wanted to teach them some classical myths.” She fiddled with the quill in her hands. “They’re excellent learners, all of them.”
One sandy brow quirked. “Even Thomas?”
“Well, maybe not Thomas.” She smiled, thinking of the mischievous towhead and all the other children, all the fun she’d been having with them. “In any case, we’re almost finished with the Greek stories, and before we start in on the Romans, I was thinking I’d like to throw an Olympian party.”
Trick looked completely nonplussed. “A what?”
“An Olympian party. I know money is tight, but I’ve been pondering this, and I really don’t think it will be expensive. The children can all dress up as their favorite god or goddess—I came across plenty of unused dress lengths in storage that they can wrap toga style. And decorations needn’t be too costly. Phillips has agreed to help me make columns—”
