Kitty wanted to ask more. Here was another difficult mother lingering in her husband’s memories in ways that might affect their future, but this wasn’t the moment.
She looked around the room for a safer line of talk. “What do you keep in the cabinet of curiosities?”
That term was usually applied to a place to keep an eccentric collection, but when he rose and opened the doors, she saw shelves holding orderly ranks of open-topped boxes.
“My predecessor didn’t believe in filing his personal papers, and, as I said, he had no secretary. He tossed them into the nearest receptacle—a box, a drawer, even sometimes a vase. We’ve been gathering them. The top shelves are unsorted boxes and the lower ones sorted.”
She saw neatly written labels—Plas Blaidd, Parliament, Town House.There were a number of boxes for correspondence, each with a subtitle, includingPersonal, Commercial, Petitions...
“Poor Worseley,” she said.
“I do my share when I have time.”
“Why bother?”
“The alternative would be to burn them all unread.”
Kitty rose and went to dip into an unsorted box and found a recipe of some sort in faded ink.
“Perfume?” she asked.
He looked over her shoulder. “Snuff, I’d think. Those are types of tobacco, with the addition of herbs for scent.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You use snuff?”
“No.”
Of course—that memory.And now he was so close, they were almost touching. Whatever this snuff had smelled of, Braydon had his own subtle smell, and itstirred her. She was tempted to turn to him, to put her hand on his chest, and invite a kiss.
But where might that lead?
Here? In his study.
With coffee ordered.
She moved away. “Why bother with such petty details?”
“Knowledge is power. Ignorance is vulnerability. I intend to know and understand all about my new responsibilities.”
She looked at him, alert. “You think there have been irregularities? Under the dowager’s rule?”
“Money is unaccounted for and aspects are murky. I suspect the oddities rise from sheer bloody-mindedness... if you don’t mind such language.”
“After so long a soldier’s wife? But you wonder if there’s been some wrongdoing.” She considered the boxes in a new light. It would almost be like a treasure hunt. “I might enjoy going through the papers.”
“Then do so, but record each item in this ledger.” He took out a large book and opened it on the desk. She saw on each line a note about a paper and where it had been put. She recognized his handwriting in some entries, but another hand in others. That must be the secretary’s.
Letter, March 15, 1813, from Lady Pierrepoint to 5th V. NOI
“NOI?” she asked.
“No obvious importance. All those go in that box.” She saw one with simply those initials. “If there might be some importance, they are stored in boxes according to subject.” He pointed to one line, which said,Letter, September 12, 1814, from W. Hughes to 5th V PB. “That deals with a small estate in Wales, so is in the box for Plas Blaidd. In time that box will be incorporated with the one in the record room.”
This meticulous organization stole some of the appeal of a hunt through the papers, but Kitty supposed she should have expected it. This was a man who turned up at ten o’clock to the very strike.
Looking down the lines of writing, she saw many NOIs. “Why not burn the unimportant ones?”
“There’s a gap between unimportant and no obvious importance, and it could be disastrous.”
