“I didn’t realize you were unhappy here,” Jack struggled to keep the disappointment he felt in check.
“It ain’t the same for me. This is your home, ’an I get why you love it, but it ain’t mine. Besides, someone’s got to watch over our investments in America, don’t they?”
Jack swallowed. “When do you plan on leaving?”
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere until you settle your hash with your uncle. I made you a promise, and I intend to stick with it. But I would rest easier if I knew you were happy—if you had someone here to care for you.”
“I am not a child. I can take care of myself.”
“I know that, but I also know you care more for that little lady than you’re willing to admit. We’ve been talking for ten minutes, and you ain’t even asked me about the house. That tells me something.”
Jack turned to the window. A pair of gray doves perched on the gas lamp below cooed and nuzzled. Jack closed his eyes. Brandt was right. He’d become distracted again, and he hadn’t even given the house a second thought. He turned from the window. “Well,” he said, “did we get it?”
“We got it.” Brandt drained his glass and pushed himself out of his chair.
“My uncle grabbed the ten percent offer, then. I knew he would, greedy wretch.”
“I didn’t offer him ten over. You were too dang mad to think clearly when you came up with that sum. I told Percival to offer five percent over asking, and your uncle accepted.”
“That’s for the house as it stands?” Jack asked. “Nothing will be removed?”
“Yeah, whatever’s there now, is all yours.” Brandt approached Jack’s desk. “Like Percival said, your uncle took the paintings and other valuables out when his wife died. But the furniture ought to be worth a lot. Hell, even his wife’s clothes are still there.”
“I don’t care about the valuables. I wanted the house unmolested because it struck me that my uncle may have been too preoccupied to sort through his personal effects after my aunt died. There’s a chance he was careless enough to leave something behind.”
“What are you hoping to find?”
Jack shrugged. “Correspondence? Something that confirms his scheme to ship me off to America? Perhaps, he confided in my aunt, and she kept a diary. I don’t know.”
“You might be onto something. It’s worth a try. But first, you gotta sign.” Brandt tapped a paper laying on Jack’s desk. “The doc is right here waitin’ on your John Hancock.”
Jack leaned the palms of his hands on his desk and scanned the document. Then he reached for his ink pen and scripted his name at the bottom of the page.
Brandt slapped Jack on the back. “Now, let’s hightail this over to Fleet Street and collect them keys. The sooner we start tearing that fine townhouse apart, the better.”
Chapter Fifteen
The flower that smilestoday
To-morrow dies
All that we wish tostay
Tempts and thenflies.
—Percy Bysshe Shelley,“Mutability”
Along soakin a warm tub never grew tiresome. Ottilie sank deeper into the soapy water and closed her eyes. She’d been in dire need of a bath, but she was sorry to wash Jack’s scent from her body. The taste of his honeyed tongue in her mouth still sent a shiver of pleasure through her. How had she stayed ignorant of such feelings until now? She’d witnessed her best friend’s exhilaration and somewhat foolish behavior when she’d fallen in love, but she had not understood it. Was this love? Did she love Jack?
The thought terrified her. How would she cope when the summer came to an end? More to the point, what would Jack do? He’d promised to come to Canterbury for the lecture, but would he stay for an extended time? He had the reputation of a rake—a reputation he did not deny—would he return to his old ways? Her mama had no doubt found herself faced with this same predicament six-and-twenty years ago, and the outcome had not been a happy one for her. Ottilie knew she should save herself and return to Canterbury immediately. Yet, the thought of never kissing Jack again seemed unbearable.
“Excuse me, Miss.” Eliza entered the room, carrying a fluffy, white towel. “I’ve come to see if you’re about ready to get out. You’ve been soaking for a while, and you’ll need to get dressed soon. His Lordship is on his way home.”
“What?” Ottilie sat up, causing water to slosh onto the floor. “My cousin is coming home? How do you know?”
“I believe he sent a note this morning. Cook received instructions to prepare his favorite dish.”
“I’d better make haste, then.” Ottilie pushed herself up and elevated her arms while Eliza secured the large towel around her body. She gave Eliza her hand and let the maid assist her as she stepped out of the tub.
