‘Yes. It was an idiotic thing to do that caused far too much damage. I regret it and I have no intention of ever doing anything like that again.’
Her dark eyes were watching him thoughtfully and so he pressed on with his argument. ‘How about this? We both write down a list of things we would like to do over the next month and then share it. Together we will choose the things that appeal to us the most. If there is nothing on my list that you would like to do, I shall not force you. During these excursions we shall discuss what legitimate ways we have discovered to end our betrothal without one of us having to fake their own death.’
From the twitch of her shoulders, he guessed that extreme idea had already occurred to her and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. She stared at him for a long while, as if she were trying to see into his soul and discover whether he was trying to trick her or not. He wasn’t. At first, he had gone along with the betrothal because he was a gentleman and a gentleman did not humiliate a young woman in front of members of the Ton. Then, he had kept itgoing because he did not want to bring down unnecessary scandal on his family. But now, he found that he liked Sophia. If she really believed this Robert was the man for her, then he would help her entice him to her. He had to be in London anyway; he may as well enjoy the next few weeks. He liked her; he found the way she worried at her bottom lip while she was thinking adorable, and talking to her was a great deal more interesting than doing so with most of his other acquaintances, but his heart would not be broken when Robert came to claim her.
‘Very well,’ she murmured eventually, ‘I accept your proposition.’
His heart suddenly lighter, he urged his greys into moving again. ‘Excellent. You will not regret it. I promise you.’
ChapterNine
Striding into Glanmore House feeling rather pleased with himself, Christopher was met by Sutton, the duke’s butler. While not an unusual occurrence, the man’s strained expression was.
‘You are wanted in His Grace’s study,’ Sutton informed him. ‘A letter has arrived from America.’
Christopher’s heart plummeted. Last autumn, his family had hired a detective to hunt for news about Sebastian’s death. All the four remaining brothers knew was that he, along with his wife, had died in a carriage accident. For a long while, they accepted this truth at face value. While deaths in this way were not all that common, the brothers knew little about the state of the roads in the country across the Atlantic. It seemed reasonable to assume they were not as sophisticated as those in England and that this had contributed to the accident. But Edward, the brother closest to Christopher in age, had been dissatisfied with that. He’d remembered that Sebastian had been a notable whip and had wanted to know more details. Yet, the terms of Sebastian’s will made it impossible for them to travel to America themselves.
The man they had employed to investigate on their behalf, Simon Hornel, had discovered details about Sebastian’s wife’s family that had raised suspicions. Sebastian had instructed his bank not to give anymoney to his wife’s family, perhaps not strange in itself but made more interesting by the fact that his brother had amassed a fortune while abroad. Made slightly stranger when a man posing as Sebastian’s wife’s brother had tried to remove some money. It was not much to go on, but it raised more questions than it answered.
Mr Hornel had informed them that he had travelled to Boston, the town Sebastian had been living in before he died, to find out more. But his last two letters, sent six weeks apart, had not uncovered anything illuminating. This one had arrived only a fortnight after his last one, which suggested there must be some news. Although, Mr Hornel could, of course, have been replying to the news that his sister, Kate, who had been left with them while he travelled abroad, had married Edward before Mr Hornel could give his blessing to the match. If that were the case, Christopher did not want to miss it. Mr Hornel might not be pleased that his sister had married without him, and if it made Edward feel in any way uncomfortable, then that was something Christopher would enjoy.
Oh, he would defend any of his brothers to the death if the need arose, which he sincerely hoped it didn’t. He had got on reasonably well with Edward before they had returned to live at Glanmore House. With only two years between them, they had run in loosely the same circle of friends and had been known to enjoy an amiable conversation or two if circumstances threw them together. Living in the same house, bonding over the shock of having to raise a young girl and tormenting their older brother Freddie had brought them closer. Christopher was genuinely happy that Edward had married, not only to a woman he loved, but also to someone who was a great addition to the family. None of that distracted from the delightful possibility of watching his brother squirm.
So, it was with mixed feelings that he let himself into Tobias’ study, a surprisingly comfortable room with large windows that made it light and cheerful. If you only spent time with the duke out of this room, you would assume it would be dark and gloomy and stacked full of boring papers, but it was tidy, almost meticulously so, aside from some wooden blocks, which belonged to Lotte and were left there for her to play with when she was in this room.
His three remaining brothers were already waiting for him, Tobias leaning against his desk, arms folded, head tucked down as if pondering some of life’s great mysteries. Edward was smoothing his wrinkle-free trousers, a sure sign that he was worried about something but wouldn’t discuss it, and Freddie was leaning back in his chair, leg crossed over the other, outwardly showing he did not have a care in the world. In other words, they were all exceptionally tense and trying to pretend otherwise.
The unopened letter lay at the centre of the duke’s desk.
‘Nice of you to join us,’ said Edward dryly.
‘I am sorry if I have kept you waiting, but I was unaware the letter had arrived, having been out all afternoon and unable to read minds.’
‘Ah yes, you have been with your betrothed, have you not? Did you enjoy Gunter’s?’ There was an evil smile lurking in the back of Edward’s eyes and a corresponding smirk on Freddie’s lips. Christopher would not rise to whatever game they were playing. He may have given both his brothers hell about their respective relationships, but this was different. Edward and Freddie had been in love and making cakes of themselves over the whole process of becoming engaged. Christopher never intended to fall in love, not with Sophia, not with anyone. Not because he didn’t believe in it, you only had to look at his two brothers to know that it existed and could make you nauseatingly happy, but because it tied you down. His twobrothers were stuck in London now. They could not travel, could never see the world and all the exciting things it had yet to reveal. They’d traded excitement for contentment and that was fine for them; it just wasn’t for him. He wanted to see life in all its vivid colours before he died.
‘I most certainly did,’ he said, not rising to the bait. ‘The ices were delicious. I suggest we take the children there; they will enjoy themselves immensely.’
‘You have been gone a long time,’ said Edward.
‘As I said, the food was quite exceptional.’ He managed to keep his voice light and cheerful, ignoring his brothers’ increasingly wide grins. They may think they were teasing him about spending time with a beautiful, witty woman, but there was nothing for him to become riled about, so they were wasting their efforts. Besides, he was the youngest brother; he had dedicated large parts of his life to annoying his older brothers and had become skilled in it. They would not best him in this. ‘Did you get a separate letter from Simon Hornel, Edward? What did he have to say about your recent marriage to his sister?’
Satisfyingly, that wiped the smirk from Edward’s face. ‘Kate has received a separate later. No doubt its contents express his thoughts.’
‘Be sure to share his feelings.’
Edward glared at him and Christopher allowed himself a wide smile. He had won that round.
Ignoring their back and forth, Tobias plucked the other letter from his desk and held it out to Edward. Edward always read out the missives from the investigator. Partly, Christopher believed, because Edward had been the one to request Mr Hornel help them but also because Tobias appeared to hate talking, Freddie couldn’t read andChristopher as the youngest was somehow always deemed the least responsible at any task. It didn’t bother him. The less work, the better.
‘It is quite long,’ said Edward, pulling out several sheaves of paper from the envelope and skimming over the first few lines. ‘He is still not thrilled about the weather. It is cold, or at least it was six weeks ago.’
‘Has there been a single month in which he has been happy about the temperature?’ asked Christopher.
Edward smiled faintly. ‘If he has, I do not recall it. Once he finishes his rant about it, he says,
“As mentioned in a previous epistle, Boston is a thriving port town which is increasing in popularity. Your brother invested in many companies, but his major interest seems to have been in shipbuilding. So much so that he owned a company called Dashworth and Sons. This was sold a year before his death for a considerable sum.
“I have investigated as widely as possible, and I now believe that the ‘Sons’ part of the title has no basis in reality and that your niece is his only child. The company is now imaginatively called Boston Maritime Construction and Shipping. I have ascertained that he cut ties with the company once it was sold and owned no further shares in it. Ensuring that all the money from this sale went to him will be one of my next avenues of investigation.
