“Er, I don’t believe so, my lord.” Bentley stepped forward, the note outstretched. “This is from Lord Chilton. You asked that if anything arrived from him, to interrupt you with it.”
Finn was already on his feet and he took the letter with shaking hands. “Yes, thank you, Bentley. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can do, my lord?” Bentley asked.
“No. Just continue with the arrangements for tomorrow. I know Lord Ramsbury and Lady Marianne intend to join me for supper tonight, so make sure you have some of her favorite madeira available, separate from the cases for the wedding party tomorrow afternoon.”
“It is already done, my lord.”
“Excellent.” Finn managed a warm smile. “I can always depend on you, old friend. I appreciate it.”
The butler blushed a little, but then stepped out of the room and left Finn. As soon as he was alone, Finn tore the wax seal free and unfolded the letter.
Delacourt,
I realize you must be busy with final preparations for the wedding, but I’ve been thinking about our last conversation and would very much like to see you at your earliest convenience. This afternoon, if you’ve time.
Chilton
Finn’s jaw set as he read the words over and over, looking for some clue within the swirl of the man’s handwriting that would say he was a killer. In the end, he set the letter down on his desk and walked to the window.
He should reach out to Esme and let her know about this development. They had agreed he would wait to contact Chilton, himself, until after the wedding, even if the waiting made things uncomfortable for them both. But she would want to know Francis had made the first step, himself.
Of course, when he did that, she would rush to decisions. She would want to come along with him, to insert herself into the answers they sought. Endanger herself.
But if he went alone, he could handle Francis in whatever way he saw fit. She might be angry, but wasn’t an apology better than asking permission? It didn’t feel better, but that was the saying after all.
He moved to the door and rang the bell and Bentley reappeared momentarily.
“Have one of the footmen ready to deliver a return message to the marquess in a moment. And I’ll be following not far after, so my horse should be ready at one.”
“Of course, my lord,” Bentley said.
Finn returned to his desk and got out all his writing instruments, forcing his hands and mind to settle before he began to write his short return message. This was a long chess game, a marathon, not a sprint. And since he intended to play it to a win, he had to be in no hurry.
Whether Esme would agree with that decision was another story.
It had been over two years since Finn had been in the Chilton house. He’d normally met Esme’s father at Fitzhugh’s club or in his own home, but from time to time he’d call here. Now he stood looking around at what had once been a sophisticatedparlor. Once, because now it was decorated with a garish, ostentatious eye from the overly stuffed chairs to the truly ugly crystal animals along the mantelpiece.
Gone were the serene paintings of estate grounds and favorite dogs and horses, replaced with portraits of the current marquess. Francis in his finery. Francis standing with a gun and a dead stag’s gory head. Francis in military regalia, though Finn didn’t think the man had ever served.
He was still rolling his eyes when a throat cleared behind him and he turned to find the marquess, himself, had entered the room.
“Good afternoon, Chilton,” Finn said, extending a hand and swallowing back the disgust that still came any time he had to refer to this man by the title.
“Delacourt,” Francis said, and motioned to one of the chairs Finn had already found far too uncomfortable to sit in while he waited. “I’m glad we could arrange this meeting this afternoon. I know you’re busy.”
Finn sat. “I am. My sister’s wedding is just tomorrow and the gathering after the ceremony is to be held at my home here in London.”
“Well, that is the duty of the servants, I suppose. Glad I never had a sister, what a lot of wasted blunt on weddings and trousseaus and such.”
Finn tilted his head. “Yes, and with your cousin gone, I suppose you are free of all that.”
There was a slight twitch to the other man’s lips. “Well, I would have worked out a way not to pay for that hoyden even if she hadn’t run off. Why should I have to provide for such a woman?”
Finn shrugged even though he was gripping one hand against the seat arm. This man was truly a demon. “I’m pleased to provide for Marianne. I suppose it takes all kinds,” he said.
“I suppose. And she matched well enough with Ramsbury. He has a fine fortune, after all. Very well played on your part, or hers if she forced the match somehow.”
