“Aye.”
Lord Dawson released Kitty’s hand almost immediately.
“But I, I thought…” Lord Dawson glanced between Kitty and Louisa before turning back to Rhys. “I thought you promised her a dowry?”
“Oh, I did,” he said taking a sip of wine. “And once Fenwick Park is a proper working farm, she shall have it. Of course, the estate is still about a year away from earning income. Until then, well, there just isn’t any money.”
“No money?” Lord Dawson repeated, his complexion suddenly pale and strained.
“I’m afraid not.”
“But weren’t you awarded ten thousand pounds? From the prince of Sweden?”
“Christopher,” Kitty hissed.
Although it had been widely reported in the papers that every member of the British army who had served as the personal guard for the prince of Sweden had been awarded ten thousand pounds, it was hardly polite to discuss in mixed company. To have such a discussion, at a dining room table with ladies present no less, was considered grossly impolite. Yet Lord Dawson was completely focused on Rhys.
“I was.”
“Then where is it?”
“You’re sitting in it,” Rhys said, looking around. “Fenwick Park was not inexpensive to renovate. Not to mention the furnishings, the livestock we’ve had to buy, the spring oats and winter wheat, the farming equipment, the food at this very table that was needed to be purchased elsewhere and will continue to be purchased else way until at least next summer.” He paused, noting the tension in the room, but decided to relax back in his chair. “But that’s of no issue to you, is it?”
“It isn’t?” the man asked, almost dazed.
“No, not at all. You are an earl’s son. I’m sure the family coffers have enough to tide you over until Miss Babcock’s dowry comes in.”
“I… I didn’t realize there wasn’t any money.”
“Not currently, but eventually.” Rhys glanced at Louisa, who was staring at him, mouth agape. “But considering the long voyage you have in front of you tomorrow, I think we should retire early.”
“Yes,” Dawson said in a haze as they all stood up.
Mr. Trench, who appeared to have a bounce in his step, bowed and was out the front door before the others had evenreached the staircase. Lord Dawson returned to his room in the west wing while Kitty had been given a room in the east wing.
By the time Rhys and Louisa reached their rooms, he was sure his wife would have something to say about what was said at dinner, but she remained quiet as she went about her nightly routine.
Rhys watched her as she sat before her vanity table and slowly began to unpin her hair. It was frustrating, waiting for her to speak. Didn’t she have an opinion about what he had said? Surely, she suspected Lord Dawson of having ill intentions too. But why hadn’t she expressed them?
Unable to wait any longer, he spoke.
“Louisa.”
“Yes?”
He frowned.
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
“About what?”
He stalked toward her until he was standing in front of her.
“About what? About dinner, about what I said about Kitty’s pin money.”
She looked up at him, and he had to beat down the desire to touch her face.
“What opinion should I have about that? If you say there isn’t any money for a dowry at the moment, I don’t see how having an opinion could change that.”
