“Just a note that the tax on the foundry should actually read half of the listed sum because we supply swords to the Royal Marines...” Her voice was muffled through the wood.
Isobel looked at him, looked at the door, and then shoved up.
Jason slapped the floor with his hand in frustration.
He heard the door creak again, and then he heard Isobel say, “Hello.”
“Sorry to disturb,” apologized Ronnie, “but Mama said you were helping Jason sort out the filing?”
“I was endeavoring to do it,” Isobel said. “I... I don’t believe we’ve met. I am Miss Isobel Tinker.”
“Oh yes, I know who you are,” said Ronnie cheerfully. “Jason has told us how you saved our cousin from pirates. Well done. But I hope you’ll forgive my very obsessive need to make a few suggestions about the filing.” Ronnie drifted into the room with the cat.
“But do you have some... interest or expertise in the management of the estate, Lady Veronica?” asked Isobel. “Er, may I call you Lady Veronica?”
“Oh, please call me Ronnie,” his sister said, brushing past, making her way to the desk. “It’s just that I’ve been managing the correspondence and figuring the ledgers since our brother died, and I could share a few things with Jason—when he’s ready.”
“Is that right?” said Isobel, sounding inspired. “But do you... enjoy the work of managing the estate, Ronnie? That is, does it disrupt or postpone your other pursuits?”
“Oh no,” assured Ronnie. “I’m loath to give it over to him, honestly. And not only because he will cock it up almost immediately.”
She plopped down in Jason’s chair and spilled the cat on the desktop. “I was just beginning to have everything sorted when Jason returned home. He’s made quick work of turning everything upside down. Naturally.”
She took up where Isobel left off, stacking papers into piles.
Isobel came up behind her, her arms crossed over herchest, and watched appreciatively as Veronica sifted through his tangle of papers, setting things to rights.
“I think perhaps you’ve found an answer to your problem, Your Grace,” Isobel said. “You have a capable sister right here at Syon Hall who not only wants to do your job, she’s already been doing it.”
Jason was shaking his head. “I won’t allow the dukedom to ruin her life too. She deserves to marry, start a family.”
“Actually,” said Veronica, not looking up, “I’ve no aspiration to either of those pursuits. I’d much rather remain in my own beautiful home and play the duke instead. Given the chance.”
“Lovely,” said Isobel, beaming at him. She was so beautiful his heart ached.
“Ronnie,” he said, “why didn’t you tell me you could help? Couldn’t you see me struggling?”
His sister shrugged. “You seemed so very determined. You were behaving so strangely. I was afraid my interference would make you more hysterical, honestly.”
“Quite so,” he said, scratching his beard. “Well, the hysteria is over, you’ll be happy to know. And I would be forever grateful for any estate business that you wish to manage. I’m rubbish at it, as you’ve suggested. I’ve solicited potential stewards to interview. Outsiders who could take things in hand, but it makes far more sense for you to do it. You were always smarter than the three of us boys combined.”
She winked at him but said nothing, pointing out some tabulation on an invoice to Isobel.
Jason wondered how he’d gone from kissing his betrothed to watching her do sums with his sister.
“Ronnie?” Jason called. “Is this business of a ball still happening?”
“Yes, of course,” said Ronnie.
“When is it?”
“Tonight, Jason. We’ve said this again and again.”
“Right,” said Jason. “But has anyone thought to invite Isobel?”
The younger woman finally looked up. She spun in her seat to beam up at Isobel. “But you must come, Miss Tinker. Reggie will be there—and all of us, of course. A small crowd from London. It’s meant to be great fun, and how much more fun now that you appear to have fixed whatever was wrong with Jason.”
“Yes, Isobel,” said Jason sardonically. “You must come. Especially now that you’ve ‘fixed’ me.”
