“Congratulations.” Chase raised his glass.
“It has not been settled, as I said.”
“I can’t imagine she would not agree.”
They sat in Nicholas’s library. Nicholas had claimed he needed to attend to something about the estate after dinner and left them alone.
“One never knows,” Kevin said. “Paris is one thing. London is another. As I learned this afternoon, to my endless irritation.”
“You can hardly be surprised. Agnes was willing to receive her for a family dinner so everyone could look her over. She will never accept Miss Jameson as your bride. It is not her decision, though. It is yours.”
“Nicholas thinks it is only about her inheritance. He left us alone, so he has probably expressed reservations on that. He wants you to do a discreet inquiry now, doesn’t he?”
“He had a pressing matter to attend. However, since you mentioned it—Is this about her inheriting half your enterprise?”
Was it? Mostly. But, Kevin realized, not entirely.
“If tomorrow a codicil to the will were discovered that transferred that share to you and she no longer owned it, would you still marry her?” Chase asked ever so casually, as if a challenge was not being posed.
“If there had been such a codicil, I never would have met her. If you don’t hold her birth against her, I don’t see why you would have any concerns. It isn’t as if such marriages aren’t normal. This year or next, Nicholas will make a good, practical marriage too.Yourmarriage is the one that is unusual.”
Chase smiled with some chagrin. “Forgive me. I have developed the odd notion that my good friends should know happiness too.”
Kevin watched how the lamplight played on the inky red of his port. “I think I have a fair chance at happiness. However, during the inquisition I faced this afternoon, Aunt Agnes said something that does cause me the slightest pause.”
“You were listening? I send my mind elsewhere when she goes on.”
“She said I knew nothing about her. That is not true. I know quite a bit, but—when I line up what I know, there are gaps.”
“Gaps?”
“Mmm. The whole way Uncle met her, for example. I know why she says he gave her some money. Because she nursed someone he knew, she said. But when and how? There are empty spots in her history like that.”
“Perhaps you should ask her about them.”
“I thought you might already know. You are the one who found her.”
“You found her.”
“I gave you a name and a town. You did the rest.”
“Minerva did the rest. I left it all to her.”
Chase was good at dissembling, but Kevin had known him long enough to spot when it was happening. “And your wife said not a word to you about it? I find that hard to believe.”
Chase was also good at hiding discomfort, but Kevin knew the signs of that too. So when Chase rose to fill his glass, and drank some before returning to his chair, Kevin fully expected the impassive expression turned in his direction.
“As I said, you should ask Miss Jameson.”
“I’m asking you.”
“You are indeed.” Chase showed irritation. He drank another swallow. “Damn. Fine, what gaps do you see? I’ll fill them if I can. Minerva told me much, but not everything. Which is why Miss Jameson, or Minerva herself, would be the better person to question.”
He would rather not question Rosamund, and he would never face Minerva over this. “She came up to Town when she was maybe seventeen. She was in service for a while. How long?”
“Approximately a year and a half.”
“Then she left.”
