She moved the talk to household matters, including food and the servants’ ball, and only slowly realized they’d rediscovered their ease. He still knew things about her she’d rather he not know, and she’d revealed her warrior side, but they had both put all that aside. They’d workedtogether smoothly in dealing with Isabella. This marriage could work, as long as she was careful.
As they finished the meal, Braydon asked if she’d object to his riding out on estate business.Is he not as comfortable with our situation as I thought?She pushed that worry down and gave him permission. They both rose. Then, instead of leaving, he tilted her chin and kissed her in that soft, warm, promising way.
This time she responded, as she should, but also as she wanted to. Whatever their problems, the desire was honest. She put her arms around him and kissed him back, unabashedly suggesting that he escape his burdens in another way. She thought she’d won, but then he gently put her away.
“I truly do have business to attend to, my dear. Until later.”
It was an excuse, but also a promise, one that left Kitty unable to settle to household duties. She collected Sillikin and went to Braydon’s office, simply because it was so very much his, with his essence all around. She opened a book on the desk. It was all to do with yields of different crops. Riffling through the neat piles of papers seemed intrusive, so she decided to work on the loose papers in the cabinet as an excuse to stay there. She took down a box.
She found the simple task soothing. Take a paper from the box, read it, write the brief description and decide where to put it. She could easily denote some as ONI—of no interest—but as that wasn’t an option, they went under NOI.
Scribbled names of horses, perhaps from a race meeting.
Bills for all kinds of small items—a cravat pin; garters; soap, in this case almond and rose. Rose soap wasn’t usually a gentleman’s choice.For the dowager or Isabella?
Trite letters from acquaintances acknowledging a favor or offering one, or informing him of a meeting in Town. He seemed to be a member of a number of worthy organizations, but that was probably a requirement of the peerage. She came across nothing to suggest active involvement.
There was a bill for the repair of the leading on a window. It should go in the box for the appropriate property, but there was nothing to indicate which house. The tradesman’s address was in Edgware, so it must be connected to the document she’d found before. Where had that letter been filed?
She made the note in the ledger, then put the bill on top of one of Braydon’s piles of paper to catch his attention. It seemed the viscountcy owned some property in Edgware. It might be a similar case to the Beecham Dab almshouses, in danger of neglect.
Then she came across a letter from the dowager to her son, dated three years earlier. Kitty smoothed it, surprised that it had been carelessly stuffed somewhere.
The handwriting was ornate. The dowager wrote of estate matters and urged her son to return to the Abbey soon to deal with a rental issue. It was hard to detect any emotion. She mentioned the good health and educational progress of his two children, but without any sense of doting. She probably would think doting for her dotage.
Kitty went into the secretary’s room. “Is there a special place for family correspondence, Worseley?”
“Yes, my lady. In the cabinet.” He went with her and took out a box from the bottom shelf. “This is for recent correspondence. Older letters are stored in the muniment room.”
“How long a period does this box cover?”
“Three years, ma’am.”
He returned to his office. Kitty considered the scantcontents of the box, sorely tempted to read the letters. That would be rudely intrusive, however, so she put the letter with the rest and noted the location in the ledger.
She put some more wood on the fire and returned to the muddle of paper, enjoying the simple room and the placid routine of the task. The bits and pieces built up a picture. The fifth viscount had been fussy about his boots and shoes but haphazard about his clothing. He’d certainly been no dandy. In fact, his concern over his footwear was all for comfort. Had he had bad feet?
Chapter 24
“There’s no need for you to be doing that.”
Sillikin leapt up and went over to Braydon, tail wagging. That was a great improvement, and Braydon hunkered down to stroke her, but he had a small wooden chest under one arm. More papers?
He had that glow that comes from fresh air and exercise, and she wanted to eat him.
“I needed a routine task,” she said as he rose, smoothly and easily. “Just as you, I suspect, needed exercise and open air.”
“Astute as always. Have you found hidden treasure?”
“Not unless you count the fifth viscount being very concerned about his feet and his thinning hair. I’ve come across bills for three different hair tonics.”
“I seem to remember others. I, on the other hand, have found treasure for you.” He put the chest on the desk. “I decided the dowager must still have the family jewels, so I faced the dragon and wrested them from her.”
“And lived to tell the tale!”
“She has an impressive safe and suggested she was the best custodian. There’s a safe here as well, however. Remind me to show it to you.” He unlocked the chest and opened it. “I can’t be sure this is all of it.”
Kitty didn’t try to hide her excitement. She took out boxes and pouches and began to open them, findingjewelry of all sorts in all stones, and a beautiful necklace of large pearls. She cradled it in her hands, but when she looked up she saw amusement.
