Page 17 of An Icy Christmas Engagement
“Let’s play forts!”
Without waiting for a response, Joshua and a few of the other children ran off to the window where there were a few empty trunks and blankets.
“Well, I suppose I have no choice, do I?” Louisa chuckled before making her way over to them.
Caroline was about to follow suit but a tiny hand caught hers. She looked down to see Hannah peering up with her with round, brown eyes.
“Will you read to us?” Hannah asked nicely. “Please?”
There was no denying her. Hannah could have asked for every pence in Caroline’s name and she would have given it, even though she’d already donated as much as she could to the orphanage.
“Of course,” she told her. “Is there anything in particular you would like to hear?”
“Read us the nursery rhymes!” a little boy squealed excitedly.
“No, I want to hear Romeo and Juliet!” Hannah protested, shooting a scathing glare at the boy.
“Romeo and Juliet?” Caroline echoed with a laugh. “Is that your favourite story?”
Hannah beamed. “Yes, yes, yes! Will you read it?”
Caroline came to a stop at the bookshelves, studying the disappointing selection. The book of a few of Shakespeare’s stories was the only thing of value. She would have to look about donating a few books as well.
“How about I read the nursery rhymes first?” Caroline suggested. “And then we end with Romeo and Juliet?”
Hannah pouted, crossing her arms. Caroline lowered to a squat and whispered conspiratorially in her ear, “We have to save the best for last, don’t we? It will be our little secret.”
For a moment, she thought Hannah wouldn’t budge. But then a smile stretched across her face and she nodded before putting a finger to her lips. Caroline mimicked her with a wink.
She settled into the closest chair while the children gathered around her and began to read. By the time she made it to the next page, she couldn’t at all remember what she had been trying to forget.
Chapter Seven
Operating his business on Bond Street had its downsides.
Cedric remembered a time when he’d longed to visit the office, knowing that he could learn a little bit about how his father managed the business. His father had been his idol, after all. His inspiration. Cedric had aspired to be exactly like him.
So when he inherited the business—and by extension the office—he’d decided to do everything in his power to maintain it, to keep the memory of that perfect, seamless business that was operated by a no-nonsense kind of man. It was one of the ways he wished to preserve his father’s memory, since he’d been snatched away from Cedric at such a young age.
Cedric didn’t like to think about his parents’ death. The suddenness of it, the unfairness. It brought nothing but anger and resentment.
Today, however, it brought shame.
He turned away from the window—and the busy street he had been staring at for the past ten minutes—to look back at his desk. Fifteen minutes ago, his secretary came in with a report of a missing shipment. A shipment that had contained hundreds of pounds worth of spices and silk from the Far East. Gone, without a trace.
Not only was he going to lose money but his suppliers were not going to be happy. This would never have happened to the late earl.
But then, Cedric doubted his father had ever been under attack like this before.
His door opened but Cedric hardly spared it a glance. Only one person would dare to enter his office without knocking.
Harrison approached the desk, spying the report sitting on top, and sighed. “This is getting from bad to worse,” he complained.
Cedric turned back to the window but saw nothing. “I take it Linton has briefed you on what has happened then.”
“He told me that he passed on a report of a missing shipment to you, yes.” Harrison was silent for a moment. Cedric didn’t turn. He could only assume that he was reading the report.
“Good God, this will cost us a fortune,” he griped. Cedric heard the telltale sound of paper hitting a flat surface. “Not to mention how many other people will be affected by this.”
