“Oh, of course,” he agreed. “She is the leader of us all. Shall we march in a line, then?”
“A line!” Anna called. “I want to march in a line!”
“Then fetch your bonnets, darlings,” Caroline said. The girls ran from the room, the patter of their small feet echoing through the corridor and up the stairs. Once they were gone, Caroline faced her husband. “A line? You are absurd.”
He shrugged.
She let out a sigh. “What do you think this meeting could be about?”
Some of the levity fell from his face. “I haven’t the faintest notion. It has been a few hard years in Manchester, and I fear he is going to tell us the investment is finally done in.”
“You’ve seen some money from it,” she reminded him.
“Yes, but not much. Certainly not what we hoped for.”
Caroline worried her lip. “It’s no matter. We get on just fine as we are. Perhaps we ought to extend our summer visits to Surrey. Close up this house for another month every year.”
“It’s an option.” He tucked the wayward lock of hair behind her ear again. “We needn’t worry now. Not until we learn what Harry needs to say to us. In the meantime…”
He moved to kiss her again when Anna and Charlotte squealed from the doorway. “We have our bonnets!”
Tristan chuckled, the low sound vibrating his chest. Caroline smiled up at him. “To the park we shall march.”
“Indeed, my love.”
Tristan climbedinto James’s carriage and tapped the ceiling, informing the driver they were ready to leave.
“Did Harry give you any indication why he’s asked for this meeting?” James asked. He wore a heavy black coat over his clothes, his white cravat gathered at his throat. His blond curls had darkened over the last few years, now that he did not spend his time outside or on a ship, and his skin had paled to its average color. He resembled his sister far more now than he had when he returned from Antigua, though they had different coloring.
Tristan shook his head. “All I received was a short note requesting I come in today. Surely it is not good news, or he would have written about it. He has written about good news in the past.”
James flattened his lips. “I had a similar thought.”
They pulled in front of the imposing building on Threadneedle Street and filed out of the carriage. Cool spring air nipped against his neck as they made their way into Harry’s office. The secretary seated at the desk stood upon their entrance.
“We’ve an appointment with Harry Plumstead,” Tristan said.
“If you’ll wait a moment.” The secretary yanked down his brown waistcoat as he circled the desk toward Harry’s office. He returned soon after. “He will see you now.”
James shot Tristan a raised eyebrow look, then preceded him into the office.
Harry looked well, his dark hair was trimmed short and side whiskers beginning to show signs of gray. He reached forward to shake their hands. “It is always good to see you both. Please, be seated.”
Tristan took one of the ladder-back chairs and considered Harry’s demeanor. He certainly did not look as though he was preparing to deliver bad news. Though that was part of his job, so he was certainly practiced at it.
The secretary closed the door as he left.
Harry folded his hands on the desk. “I’ve had word from the overseer, and it would appear you are both set to make a tidy profit this year.”
Tristan relaxed into his chair. He was not hurting for money, of course. But it was beginning to be obvious that his parents were in very good health—a thing he was ever grateful for—and it was possible they would continue in good health all throughout his daughters’ lives, even into their Seasons, and the cost of a presentation dress alone would do him in.
“In fact,” Harry said, setting a piece of paper on the desk and turning it to face them. “It is doingquitewell.”
The men leaned forward together and absorbed the figures mentioned on the page.
“We must split that number?” James asked. They had split the investment, so it was only logical.
Harry’s smile grew. “No. That is the number you shall each receive…thisquarter.”
