They left the Mountjoy house and returned to the carriage. Aragon looked over at Julian and grinned. “I’d never have thought you’d have such a rum lot of acquaintances, brother. I’m having a wonderful time. I can’t wait to tell Mother.”
“Aragon … may I offer you some advice?” Julian asked.
“Usually you just tell me things without asking permission, so this must be important. Fire away.”
“I think you should take control of the estate.”
“Why? When Mother does it so much better?”
“Because it’s yours.” Julian leaned forward. “If you truly wish to marry a woman who suits you and not Mother, then it’s imperative that you control your own life and inheritance.”
“Oh, you’re back to that, are you.” Aragon considered him. “I suppose you have a point. I should look at the books more often.”
“I’d highly recommend it.”
“You don’t think Mother is fleecing me, do you?”
“Not at all, but you might wish to attend the next meeting with your land agent.” Aragon looked doubtful and Julian continued. “Just as an observer until you understand what is going on. You could ask for a private meeting with the man. I’d also think about finding your own secretary.”
“That’s rather a lot of thinking all at once for me,” Aragon said. “Where are we going next?”
“The newspaper office. I doubt they’ll tell me who wrote that damned article, but you never know who might be willing to let something slip if I offer a good enough bribe.”
Carenza returned to the drawing room after a visit to her milliner to find Allegra seated at the desk, her back to the door.
“Would you like tea?” Carenza inquired.
Allegra jumped and turned to look at her sister, one hand pressed to her bosom. “You startled me!”
“So I see.” Carenza walked to the desk and peered over her sister’s shoulder. “What were you so engrossed in?” She sighed. “Don’t tell me you’ve been reading those terrible letters, too.”
“I was merely attempting to sort them into some kind of order, Carenza.” Allegra tried to look virtuous and failed miserably. “But I must confess that I did become diverted by some of the contents.”
“You’re as bad as Olivia.”
“I am not. I’m the one who told you not to place the advertisement in the first place!” Allegra took off her spectacles. “I did, however, establish that some of the correspondence comes from Norfolk, which means Father might have read about you in his morning newspaper.”
“Unless someone specifically mentions me by name, I doubt he’ll make the connection,” Carenza said. “And, even if he did, he might think it highly amusing.”
“He might, but Dorian won’t.”
“Dorian’s opinion doesn’t matter. He’s our brother, not our father,” Carenza countered. “He might be the most straitlaced man in Norfolk, but I still think he’d support me.”
“In public, maybe, but in private?” Allegra shuddered. “He’d be mortified. You know how hard he tries to pretend that he’s nothing like our parents. Perhaps it would be better to write and tell them what you did, so that there will be no surprises.”
“And invite trouble on my head?” Carenza went to ring the bell. “I’m sure that if we leave well alone, nothing will come of it.”
“I wish I shared your confidence, sister.” Allegra joined her beside the fire.
“You are not to write to them and drop unhelpful hints,” Carenza said. “I know what you are like.”
“I just hate keeping things from anybody. It doesn’t sit well with my conscience.”
“Do you want to go back to Norfolk and sit in the parlor with Dorian reading improving Bible verses to you while Father snores in his chair?” Carenza asked. “Because if you don’t have me to chaperone you in London, that’s where you’ll end up.”
“Then I will stay quiet.” Allegra adopted a martyred air.
“I promise that if anything bad does happen, I will publicly proclaim your innocence to the entire world,” Carenza said.
