Page 57 of The Secret Word
Chris walked him with him to the stables, where his carriage was waiting. “Thank you for coming. And thank you for agreeing to stand up for Will.”
“Has Wright mentioned the alterations he’s doing on his house?” Billy asked.
“No, he hasn’t,” Chris replied, his eyes widening, for Wright was not the sort to spend money unless he had to, and prone to boast about his plans when he did spend money. “What sort of alterations?”
“I don’t know yet,” Billy admitted. “He has builders in, and the painters are expected next week. He is redoing a room, or possibly more than one room, on the floor where he has his bedroom.”
“He has said nothing,” Chris said.
“Is that unusual for him?”
“It is.”
“Hmmm.” Billy nodded at his driver. “Straight back to London, Steve.” He then held his hand out to shake Chris’s. “Thank you for asking me, Christopher. Ask Wright about the alterations. I do not trust him.”
Neither did Chris. And he trusted Wright still less when he managed to turn the conversation around to several months ago when he and Clem were preparing the country house for them to live in.
“We’d been advised not to live in the house while the main part of the building was full of builders and painters. Even a room or two can disrupt the whole house, we were told. Have you found that, sir?”
Wright shook his head. “I haven’t had builders working in a house I was occupying. Decorators once, long ago, when I first moved to London and purchased the current townhouse.” He chuckled. “I ended up setting up a cot in my office.”
“I remember that,” Clem commented. “Our whole house smelled of paint for weeks, and my governess had to shout to be heard over the noise. We had terrible headaches.” Which meant Wright had expected his daughter and servants to continue living in the mess and disruption.
No mention of the current work. Either Billy was wrong, or Wright was hiding things. Or, Chris supposed, Billy was lying to cause trouble between Wright and Chris.
“Michael,” Chris asked, when he and his cousin had a moment to talk in relative privacy, “may I ask a favor? Would you call on my father-in-law and try to find out what building work he is having done?”
*
By early afternoon,the neighbors had all gone home, and some of the cousins had also departed. But Lord Crosby and Lord Halton remained. “Might I have a look at the school before I leave for London?” Lord Crosby asked, and Lord Halton nodded. “I would like that, too.”
Chris sent a footman to ask Partridge if it would be convenient. Clem begged off, saying that she would be going upstairs to feed the children, but the remaining relatives and Wright all joined the tour.
It was the first time that Wright had shown an interest—Chris hoped he might be impressed, but if so, he did not show it. The earls both asked interested questions about the curriculum while their wives seemed impressed by the bedchambers and classrooms. All four commented on the excellent manners and neat appearance of the boys.
Harry, Michael, and some of the other cousins joined in a game of cricket that one of the teachers had organized on the back lawn, while the other gentlemen questioned Partridge about his educational methods and the ladies talked to Mrs. Westbridge about the challenges of housing, feeding, and raising fifteen boys.
On the whole, Chris was pleased. But the best part of the day was when they had all gone home, and he went up to his bedchamber to see what was keeping his wife. She had probably fallen asleep, and so he had told their guests.
Sure enough, there she was, in their bed. He would have loved to have crawled into bed beside her and woken her in the most delightful of ways. But Mrs. Greene had warned him not to press his attentions on her until she had finished healing, and besides, she needed her sleep.
His desire for her, which had only grown over time, would have to wait until she was ready. Until then, he was happy to spend his nights with the comfort of her beside him.
Then she stirred in the bed, opened her eyes, and smiled when she saw him. “How are our guests?” she asked, sleepily.
“All gone home,” he said.
“Good,” she said, sitting up in bed and letting the sheet fall away. She was wearing nothing at all. “Now come here, Chris. For I am well and I have missed you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Michael wrotea few days later, he said that Wright had seen him in a downstairs reception room. Wright told Michael the distant hammering they could hear was from the house next door. “It wasn’t true, though, Chris,” Michael wrote. “I sat over a beer in the tavern on the corner of the mews, and saw the builders leaving by the back door. He has builders in, and he is not talking about why.”
It was weird and disturbing. Still, Chris couldn’t see how what Wright did with his townhouse could affect Chris, Clem and the twins three hours ride away in the country.
It was all a storm in a teacup, as Chris discovered during his next trip to London. He tried to invite himself to dinner, but Wright told him that there had been a leak in the roof, which had been mended, and now the painters were in. “The place smells, Satterthwaite,” he said. “I’m staying at an inn, and would be glad to have dinner with you there, and hear more about my grandson.”
Once Chris got home, he wrote to both Michael and Billy O’Hara to let them know that the builders were there to do repairs, and he told Clem. He’d kept it from her before, not wanting to worry her while she was still recovering.
