The bell above the door tinkled. Lucas straightened in his chair, breathing a sigh of relief. The first man had come.
“Come in,” he called, already pulling up several files of job possibilities before the man had even entered the room. Looking at the many pages delineating employment options made Lucas’s chest swell with pride. Not pride for himself, exactly. Pride for his sister. She would have loved the work he was doing. She was why he’d begun it in the first place, though somewhere along the line, his own desires to help had matched his desire to atone for taking the life of someone whose entire existence had centered around helping others.
A man appeared in the doorway, nearly Lucas’s height, but wiry as a fire poker. His hat brim was folded over in his hands, but he met Lucas’s gaze squarely. “Lord Berkeley?”
Lucas nodded.
“I thanks ye for seeing me, my lord.”
“Of course. Please, sit, and we can discuss your options.”
The man hesitated, not moving for the open chair Lucas had indicated. Lucas came to his feet as well, his brow raised not more than a millimeter.
Bredford worried his hat brim even more. “I ain’t here for charity.”
Lucas nodded.
“I wouldna come if it weren’t for the kids.”
Lucas nodded again.
“And me wife. She don’ deserve the life I’ve given ’er.”
Lucas watched the man, taking his measure. Bredford was one of the good ones; Lucas would have been able to tell as much even if Colin hadn’t sent the man. He didn’t deserve the hand he’d been dealt. “Sit down, Mr. Bredford,” he said again, infusing his words with weight. “We’ll get you sorted out.”
The man ground his bottom set of teeth forward, watching Lucas with just as heavy a look. Then he nodded. “Thank you, my lord.”
Lucas wasted no more time. “Tell me your skills, and we’ll find a place for you.”
***
Little brothers were annoying.
Charlie lay across a couch, tossing a book in the air and catching it over and over, the rhythmic whoosh and thump as much a distraction as Charlie’s interrupting questions and random anecdotes. He spoke infrequently enough that Lucas was able to get back into his work for a minute or two before being derailed by another comment.
“Would you say Miss Faraday’s eyes are just blue, or do they have a hint of green to them?” Charlie asked.
Lucas did not feel the need to answer. Though the answer was that they were a deep blue, with a hint of black, if anything. Where Charlie had gotten green from was beyond him. He made a note on the report he was reading and skimmed a few more paragraphs.
“Gentleman Jackson says I am improving a fair amount in my boxing.”
Lucas made a noncommittal noise, writing down a few lines at the end of the report, then setting it aside to finish a letter he’d started that morning. Tom Bredford, the man he’d been helping the night before, had been digging canals for the past six months. The pay was low and the work, grueling. But he did enjoy working with his hands, so Lucas was writing to a couple of estate owners to see if they were in need of a new tenant. Tom would do well as a farmer, and his children would love the fresher air—especially the youngest, who seemed to be dealing with an ailment of the lungs.
“You should give boxing a go sometime. With your size, you’d not need much skill to overpower an opponent.”
Lucas flicked his brother a glance. “It takes more than size to win a fight.”
Charlie tossed the book into the air again. Whoosh, thump. Whoosh, thump.
Lucas looked back at his letter, noting a drop of ink. He scowled.
“We shall have to see about that. I imagine I could take you.” Once again, Charlie had waited just long enough to be bothersome before responding.
Lucas shook his head but kept writing. The desk in the library was smaller than the one in the study, and his still-sore shoulder protested the need to hold his arm up more.
“Miss Faraday greatly enjoyed Green Park, you know. She seemed particularly interested in some of the flora. Apparently lavender has medicinal purposes—did you know?”
Lucas pressed his eyes shut, trying not to envision Miss Faraday walking away from him on his brother’s arm and the twist it had brought to his gut.
