Page 78 of Marry in Secret
“No.”
“Who hates you, who have you offended?”
“Me?I’ve offended nobody—apart from you. Why would I be the target? I know practically no one in London. I’ve been at sea since I was sixteen, and missing for the last four. Hardly anybody even knows I’m alive, remember?”
Ashendon raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Apart from everyone my sister sent an invitation to. Several hundred people at least, knowing Rose.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. But I don’t know anyone in the ton.” His old friends, apart from Ollie, were all either at sea or dead.
“I can’t think of anyone who’d wish to harm me.”Uncle Walter?he thought suddenly. But he couldn’t imagine it. Failing to act to save someone on the other side of the world was a far cry from actively attempting to kill them. In any case, what would be the point?
Then he wondered about the attack by the two thugs.
Ashendon eyed him shrewdly. “Thought of something?”
“Not really.” He explained about the attack, but the more he talked the more certain he was that it was a simple robbery.
“Saw them off by yourself, did you? Unarmed?”
Thomas shrugged. He didn’t need to point out to Ashendon that he knew how to fight. The man’s face was still covered in scabs and fading bruises, courtesy of Thomas.
“No one has any reason to harm me,” he repeated.
“So you think it was aimed at my sister? Rubbish. Who would wish to harm Rose?”
He was right; nobody in their right mind would want to harm Rose. Then again... “What about the duke, the one she was going to marry? Would he be the sort of man to want revenge? Because if you wanted to harm us both, that would be a way to do it.”
“Everingham? I can’t see it, myself. He doesn’t seem the type, but it’s worth keeping in mind. Leave it with me,” Ashendon said. He refused to say more. Rose’s brother was a very irritating man.
***
The day finally arrived for Thomas and Rose to move into the new house. Everything was ready. In a rather prosaic arrangement, they’d agreed to meet at the house at two. Rose said she didn’t want any fuss, but Thomas had brought a bunch of flowers and a special bottle of champagne to celebrate—the vintage was the year they were married.
He arrived early, as was his usual habit, bringing his belongings in the portmanteau Ollie had lent him. Ollie had come too, curious to see the refurbished house—and to take his portmanteau back.
Thomas unpacked—it took ten minutes—and then the two men went downstairs. It didn’t seem right to open the champagne without Rose. He’d stocked the cellar a few days earlier—a masculine contribution to the setting up of the house—and recalled he’d bought a case of very goodbrandy. He found a bottle and poured out two glasses. Very fine glasses, too, he noted.
Nothing had escaped Rose’s attention in furnishing this house. It was complete in every detail. He felt slightly guilty that he had done so little to help but told himself that women enjoyed these things. Nesting.
His plans for the rest of the day involved a quiet drink with Ollie and then a slightly less quiet afternoon in bed with his wife. Rose and her sister-in-law, the countess, had interviewed potential servants, and a cook, two housemaids and a general manservant were due to arrive tomorrow, so Thomas was looking forward to his last day alone with Rose in the house.
His time as a domestic slave had made him realize how much servants got to know about their masters. Most people never thought about it but very little was truly private.
Rose had left the hiring of a valet to him, but he’d leave that task until afterward. Not long now...
“To the new house and a more comfortable bed than my oldchaise longue.” Ollie raised his glass and sipped. He raised his brows, sipped again, then eyed his glass with approval. “Very fine brandy this.”
“Yes, now that the war’s well behind us we’re getting good French brandy again—legally.” Thomas didn’t drink very much these days, had lost the taste for it, but a good, well-stocked cellar was a necessary part of any gentleman’s house.
“I heard you found the last seaman’s wife. Good timing that,” Ollie said. Jemmy Pendell’s wife and little daughter had been found at last.
“Yes, the confusion was because the address was Newport, and we didn’t know which Newport it was, there being several towns called Newport in the kingdom.”
“That would explain it. Wouldn’t say no to a top-up.” Ollie held out his glass.
“It was the Newport in Gloucestershire we wanted.”
“Ah. Well, now that’s done, and you’re all settled in here, you can relax and enjoy the ball.”
