Page 3 of The Mysterious Miss Lydia
It came out as a whisper, though. And either he didn’t hear or he ignored it.
“There’s no need to be alarmed this evening, my dear,” he said with a more jovial tone. “He just wishes to rekindle your old friendship, that’s all.” He patted her knee and gave her a wink. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask, do you?”
She shook her head to make him smile. And because she supposed it was true. It wasn’t too much to ask.
Or it wouldn’t be...if there’d ever been a friendship to rekindle.
Luke’s neckstrained at an odd angle as he tried to read the small print of the newspaper that hovered at the edge of his father’s desk.
“Luke, are you listening to me?” His father’s voice cracked like a whip.
Luke’s head snapped up, and some part of him that he supposed would never grow up so long as he was around his parents, flinched at the reprimand.
A grown man with years of military service and espionage work under his belt and he flinched like a child at his father’s stern tone.
He shook his head with a rueful laugh.
“You think this is amusing?” his father demanded.
“Now, now, George.” Luke’s mother strode into the room, commanding both of their attention as they got to their feet. “I hope you’re not tiring him out too much, George,” she continuedas she went up on tiptoe to kiss Luke’s cheek. She followed that with a pat that made him feel approximately six years old.
“He needs to know the state of things,” his father started.
“And he’ll learn.” She arched her brows at Luke. “Won’t you?”
Luke smiled. “Of course.”
Did he have any other choice? He knew better than to ask. And his mother had only recently begun to seem more like her old self these days. For several long months she’d been too mired in grief over the unexpected death of her eldest son that she’d barely left her rooms.
The least Luke could do now was promise to do what was expected of him.
“As viscount and heir, your brother was intimately acquainted with the finances and workings of each and every one of our estates,” his father continued.
It was difficult not to tune him out seeing as how Luke had heard this same lecture too many times to count. Even more difficult when that newspaper was lying so close, he could almost…
“Don’t you agree?” his father said.
“Er...” Luke looked to the imposing earl before him. Was this how his brother had felt all these years when he was summoned to this study and lectured ad infinitum?
Poor bloke. No wonder he was such a stuffed shirt bore.
No offense intended, he offered up silently just in case his brother could hear him in heaven.
His father arched his brows, looking every bit the great and powerful Earl of Langley. He was still waiting for an answer.
Did Luke agree?
“Yes,” he said simply.
His mother beamed at him as his father nodded with a huff.
“I knew you’d come around,” his mother said. “Didn’t I tell you, George?”
His father grumbled something incoherent, and Luke took the opportunity to edge closer to the newspaper. It was about the man Luke had helped to out as the provocateur who’d been planning a riot. They’d caught him before he and his allies could cause too much damage, but what was more alarming—and what reporters hadn’t gotten wind of—was the documents they’d found in his rooms when they’d arrested him.
It was information about spies who worked for the Home Office, and it was the sort of information that could get a man killed if it fell into the wrong hands.
A familiar unease niggled at him. He hadn’t been able to find out how the man had gotten the information, and worse they didn’t know for whom it was ultimately intended.
