“About Walcott,” Aragon said. “He’s always been very pleasant to me.” He paused. “Seemed to think we were kindred spirits or something.”
“He assumes you were as put out about me inheriting a fortune as he was.”
“Why would I be?” Aragon looked genuinely surprised. “I was delighted. When Mother complained, I told her I wouldn’t have to continue your allowance or take care of you in your dotage.”
“How astute of you.”
“And you’re my brother,” Aragon continued. “And I always want the best for you.” He paused. “I’ve always thought it unfair that the oldest son gets the lot, you know.”
“Have you?” It was Julian’s turn to be surprised.
“Good Lord, yes. Now, back to Walcott. I could talk to him for you.” Aragon looked inquiringly at his brother. “Ask him what’s going on and whatnot.”
“I think you’d have to be less … direct than that.”
“How so?”
“In order to gain his trust, I suspect he’d have to believe you agreed with him about me—and that any schemes he was running to discredit me would have your backing.”
Aragon frowned and went quiet, his gaze falling to his boots. “You mean I’d have to deceive him as to my true intent?”
“Yes.”
When Aragon didn’t speak, Julian hastened to continue. The thought of his brother inadvertently blundering into the potential scandal of Carenza’s advertisement was horrifying.
“It’s all right. I don’t expect you to—”
“Like a spy?”
“I suppose so.” Julian regarded his brother somewhat dubiously. “It is of no matter, brother.”
“If I pretended to agree with Walcott, he might boast about his plans for you,” Aragon said. “And then I could tell you, and we could face him together and force him to desist or lose his own reputation.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’ll do it!” Aragon slapped his thigh. “Can’t have that weasel undermining my brother’s reputation.” They were rapidly approaching Landon House. Aragon put on his hat as the carriage slowed and made ready to leave. “Don’t worry, Julian. I’ll report back as soon as I’ve spoken to him.”
“Aragon, please don’t. …” Julian spoke to empty air as his brother leapt out of the carriage and slammed the door behind him.
Julian sat back, his mind in a whirl. He’d never expected Aragon to initiate a conversation about Walcott. Had Lady Allegra put him up to it, or had it sprung from his genuine concern for his little brother? Julian had the unnerving sensation that things were spiraling out of his control again, and he didn’t like it one bit.
CHAPTER16
“Stop fussing, Carenza.” Allegra pulled on her gloves and turned to her sister. “The carriage will be here in a moment, and we’ll be on our way.”
Even as she spoke, the front door opened and the coachman, who had known them since they were little girls, came in. “Good morning, ladies. All the luggage is stowed and your maid has gone ahead in the gig, so she’ll be there to greet you when you arrive.”
“Thank you, Owens.” Carenza turned to the butler. “We’ll see you in a week.”
He bowed. “Wishing you both a safe journey, my lady.”
They went out to the carriage. It was a fine, sunny morning, which boded well for their travel plans to Epping Forest, where Julian had his country property. As he wasn’t the heir, he’d had the luxury of choosing a country house that he liked rather than one he had to put up with. Carenza hadn’t visited yet and was keen to see what he’d done to the place.
The journey should take around three hours, and they had already decided not to stop on the way, unless Owens needed to change his horses. Allegra settled herself opposite Carenza. Allegra had brought her sewing basket, an improving novel of sermons, and her Pomeranian, Jester, who now resided on her lap, panting happily.
Carenza, who could neither read nor sew when the carriage was in motion, resigned herself to being lectured by her sister, who always enjoyed having a captive audience.
“I hope you’ve brought something interesting to read,” Carenza remarked as they pulled away.
