Braydon would shake his head at that, but the way the book had been placed on the shelf was suggestive.
She flipped through a few more pages, hoping for secrets, but all she found were entries for maintenance of the property and furnishings. There was nothing to do with food or drink, so he’d been maintaining it but not living in it. She’d thought before that the Edgware property could be something like the Beecham Dab almshouses—a forgotten charity. But why would that be secret? Had the dowager been so domineering that the poor man had even hidden his benevolence?
When she looked at the last entry, she saw it had been made only a few weeks before his death, perhaps just before he’d returned to the Abbey for the last time.
For the new rosebush by the back door.
Would he care about such a thing for almshouses?
Kitty returned to the front. The first entry had been in 1814, years after Diane had fled, but there could have been previous books.
In a novel she’d find Diane at this house in Edgware, run mad and being cared for under her husband’s loving supervision. That would explain why he’d never sought to divorce her. Braydon would scoff at the very idea, but there was a mystery here and it needed to be solved. She’d find time to go to Edgware. It wasn’t many miles from Mayfair.
The book was too large for her pocket so she put it inher muff. She didn’t have time for a longer search of the library, so she joined Henry and Mrs. Grant in the housekeeper’s parlor.
There Kitty carefully posed one question. “There must have been an inventory when the fifth viscount died, Mrs. Grant.”
“Oh yes, milady. And very thorough. Down to the last spoon.”
“Where would that be?”
“I think Mr. Palfrey has it, ma’am. His lordship’s solicitor. I hope you don’t think anything’s gone missing, ma’am.”
Kitty made haste to reassure her. “I’m simply curious. I’ll obtain a copy and read it in due course. I disarranged some of the covers in order to get a better feel for the house. It’s pleasant, isn’t it?”
“I think so, ma’am. Nothing fancy and a bit faded, but well-done.”
“I’ll make arrangement for someone to come about the Rumford stove and the boiler. There will be some disorder as it’s fitted, and I may require some repainting as well. If you wish to move out for a little while, you must do so.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I’ll stay to make sure it’s all done right.”
Kitty took tea, hoping for some scrap of gossip, but all she achieved was confirmation that the fifth viscount had spent little time in this house.
Mrs. Grant turned sad. “When I think, milady, that he spent only two nights here before traveling to the Abbey, and was dead a week later. We never know, do we, when God will call us?”
“No,” Kitty said. “We don’t.”
She was weary of thoughts of death and turned her mind to the spring, when this house would come to lifeand she and Braydon would be here for months. They would entertain, and perhaps she would be able to hold a weekly Kit Kat Club. Isabella would still be in mourning, but she could enjoy the quieter delights of Town.
It was beginning to grow dark when Kitty left the house, and she was glad of Edward. He got them a hackney, but as there was time, Kitty had it take them to a gaslit street where she could browse the brightly lit windows. She saw ideas for her rooms at the Abbey, and some for the town house, but her main target was Hatchard’s Book Shop. She must fulfill Isabella’s request.
Henry had never shopped after dark, and was as delighted as Kitty by the show. After buying a number of novels of the less-dramatic sort, they spent a pleasant hour wandering back past enticing shops and sometimes entering to make purchases. Kitty chose some items to be sent directly to the Abbey, but carried most of her purchases with her. Or, rather, with Edward, who was disappearing under a pile of packages. He got some relief when some of Kit Kat’s admirers took their share, but they were becoming a group likely to block the way.
“Gentlemen! I must hurry home, for I’m to attend the theater tonight. Please, someone find me a hackney.”
Major Porteous obliged, but by the time Kitty, Henry, Edward, and the packages were inside, they’d teased out of her what theater she was to attend. It had been impossible to refuse, but she hoped they wouldn’t be tiresome.
Chapter 39
Kitty found that her refurbished gown had arrived and was delighted by Janet’s work. The blue gown had been transformed by the gauze overlay and Vandyke lace. The black gauze should have made it dismal, but there was a silvery sheen to it that caught the candlelight. Janet had made a bandeau to match, and when Henry had arranged Kitty’s hair in a confection of rolls and curls, she put it in place. With the jet, Kitty knew she looked in the height of style.
She was still keen to get Braydon’s opinion, but she saw it instantly in his eyes. He kissed her hand. “In that frame, you glow like a candle.”
She admired him, too, in his formal evening wear. “I’ve never seen you in all black before.”
“You approve?”
“You shine like gold and ivory,” she said, “and I’ve always appreciated a well-dressed gentleman. It’s probably why I liked uniforms so much.”
