Her father finally straightened. “On what?” he demanded. “The good doctor here treats people who cannot afford to pay him.”
“That is not true,” Orlando argued.
“Very well, half of his patients cannot afford him.”
Though he liked to argue, Arscott spoke the truth.
“And you still spend three nights a week at a salon.”
“However, if I was at a ball instead, that would be permissible?” Blythe countered.
Orlando crossed his arms over his chest and waited for a response because he knew that Arscott had no answer.
“Blythe, Orlando, this house is being given to you. The documents have been signed and you have little choice. You have been living here anyway.”
That was true, but he thought it was because Seth allowed it, not his father-in-law.
Blast, if it was Arscott’s house than the servants were his too.
Arscott grinned at him. “You are just realizing that you have been living off of my generosity from the person who makes your bed to the one who cooks your meals.”
“Bloody hell,” he murmured.
Now he would need to find the funds to pay servants. They likely did not need all of them. After Arscott was gone he would sit down with Blythe to determine exactly who was necessary for the household.
Orlando had been adamant from the beginning that he would not accept anything from His Grace and Blythe had agreed and between his medical practice and her working at Athena’s Salon, they did well enough.
Or so he thought until he just realized it had all been a lie.
As much as he wanted to move, he also wasn’t so foolish to give up a house in Mayfair. He would have before, but now that they had Adeline, he was careful in what he rejected.
“Ring for tea, Blythe, there is something that I need to tell the both of you.”
“What is it?” she asked in alarm.
“I am not going to die if that is what you are worried about.”
His wife walked to the wall and tugged on the bellpull. His Grace lifted Adeline from her bassinet and carried her to a chair where he settled then held her on his lap.
A footman entered only a few moments later and placed the tray in the center.
“Close the door as you leave,” Arscott instructed.
Orlando and Blythe shared a look of concern.
“Orlando, how much has my daughter told you about our affairs in Devon?”
Did he admit that she had told him of their smuggling enterprise?”
“He knows about your other interests outside of being a duke and what goes on beneath the cliffs.”
“Good!” he nodded. “That is why I am here.”
“Has something happened?”
“No.”
“Now that the war on the Continent is over, are there fewer boats?” Blythe asked with concern.
