Broderick laughed as he left the office. Malcolm hoped his humor would cover the panic over the past few minutes.
“Worthington? I see your leg is healing nicely.”
Malcolm glanced at Brandon. “Yes, thanks to my wife’s loving care.”
The other man chuckled as he picked up some contracts and shuffled through them. “I never thought I would hear you say that about Kat.”
“I would have to agree with you.”
Brandon threw him a look over his shoulder. “I suppose you have forgiven her for her unfaithfulness since you exchanged vows?”
Malcolm clenched his jaw and fought the urge to use his fists to vent his frustration. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Brandon, indeed. This is no kind of talk for two gentlemen.”
Brandon shrugged. “I thought to make conversation.”
“And I’m uncomfortable speaking about this, if you don’t mind.”
“I fully understand.” Brandon’s grin turned mocking. “I, too, would be quite embarrassed if I had a wife like yours.”
Exhaling deeply, Malcolm turned away from Brandon and looked at the papers scattered on his desk. Several drawings needed to be finished by the end of the week, and he really didn’t have the patience to talk nonsense with his partner. He’d rather punch the man in the nose and cause him excruciating pain.
“But I have to add how impressed I am that Kat changed her ways,” Brandon added.
Malcolm tightened his grip on his drawing pen. The quill snapped in two. “Would you cease this ridiculous discussion?”
“I’m only trying to point out—”
“Enough!” Malcolm pushed away from the desk, knocking over his chair in the process. He glared at Brandon. “If you’ll excuse me, I have errands to run.”
He stuffed his drawings in a satchel before throwing his long, dark brown cape over his shoulders. He hobbled out of the office, not going fast enough. The wind hit his face, and he squinted through the flying debris of dirt and leaves as he crossed the street. A crowd of soldiers gathered outside the nearest tavern, raising their cups in a toast. Their boisterous laughter gnawed on Malcolm’s nerves.
Down the street toward one of the several inns in town, a familiar figure caught his eye. Blinking against the blasting wind, he noticed a woman walk in front of Captain Wilkes as they entered the building. The back of her green cloak looked familiar, and he rubbed his eyes to focus better. By the time he looked up again, the couple had disappeared.
His heart hammered against his ribs and the palms of his hands sweated. The woman with Captain Wilkes wasn’t whom he had thought. Camilla wasn’t like Kat. Although he still didn’t know for certain who she really was, the woman he lovedwouldn’t dally with other men. Camilla loved him as much as he loved her.
Didn’t she?
Hurrying into the bank, he calmed his fears, telling himself he hadn’t seen Camilla with Captain Wilkes. That must be his insecurities playing games with his mind, and he blamed Kennedy for making him doubt himself.
He turned, greeted the bank clerk, and requested a large sum of money to be withdrawn from his account. It was time he purchased arealwedding ring for his wife—the woman he never thought he could love so much. He wouldn’t put off giving her this gift any longer.
He signed his name, and with the money in an envelope safely tucked into his vest pocket, he turned to leave. Before he reached the door, it opened, and an older man wearing a top hat and dark brown cape entered.Lord Arlington?Malcolm’s breath caught in his throat due to the surprise. He hadn’t heard the lord would be in town this soon.
Doubts quickly filled his head. Did Kennedy know, and would he try to persuade Lord Arlington to sign a contract with him and Crawley? Malcolm must stop it.
Lord Arlington brushed the leaves from his overcoat and looked up at Malcolm. His eyes widened and his grayish-brown eyebrows lifted.
“Good day, my lord.” Malcolm smiled. “’Tis a pleasure to see you on this foul morning.”
“The weather doesn’t cater to our needs, that’s for certain.”
Malcolm took a step closer to the other man. “I’m surprised to see you in Dorchester. Have your plans changed since we last spoke?”
“Only a little.” Lord Arlington rested on his walking stick.
“If you don’t mind”—Malcolm lowered his voice, praying that those who worked in the bank wouldn’t run to Kennedy with theinformation they would overhear now—“we could meet sooner to discuss the plans for your manor.”
Lord Arlington nodded. “I’m actually free this evening.”
