Page 92 of The Vagabond Viscount
“What do you mean you called on him?”
“When you went missing, I made it my business to go and see your father. Victoria and I paid a number of visits to Bramshaw House. The earl and I exchanged unpleasant words.”
Flynn bit back a grin. He could just imagine Augusta taking the fight to his father and not backing down.
“But that is none the matter. I want us to visit the house. If you feel you can’t go inside, I shall understand.”
He had survived a near-death experience, been kidnapped, and taken far from home, so it sounded foolish to think he might be afraid of an old house. The earl was gone.
Could he put his fear to one side and go with Augusta to see the house?
She gave him a soft, encouraging smile in response to his “Yes,” and hand in hand they made their way out to the roadside, where Flynn hailed a hack. “Number seven, Cavendish Square, please.”
He was going back to Bramshaw House, the mansion that held so many bitter, dark memories. A place that had never been home.
ChapterFifty-Six
Augusta slipped the key in the lock and opened the front door of Bramshaw House. Earlier in the week, she’d been given the key by Christopher. Without her husband’s knowledge, Countess Bramshaw had paid the Cadnam residence a visit.
It irked her that the late earl had seen fit to bestow upon Christopher Cadnam the means to enter Bramshaw House but spitefully not his own son. She doubted she would ever stop being angry with Flynn’s father. Only time would possibly serve to lessen her boiling rage.
A scowling Flynn glanced at the key, his expression softening when she turned and handed it to him. “This is yours, Lord Bramshaw, from today until the last day that you leave this house. No one will ever make you wait outside in the street again.”
Flynn ushered Augusta inside. Silence greeted them. During her first visit to the house, Augusta had paid all the staff and given them their immediate notice, informing them that their services were no longer required. Her reasons had been two-fold. If Flynn had been found guilty of his father’s murder and they had been forced to flee the country, the house would have had to be urgently sold and the proceeds sent to them abroad.
Her second reason was now playing out. If Flynn came into the house and he didn’t have to face the servants, he might feel a little different about things.
“Where is everyone?” he asked.
“I came here a few days ago and sacked them all. Paid them a severance and told them that if they ever dared speak of what had gone on this house during your father’s lifetime, I would make certain that they never worked in a good house ever again. And then I would sue.”
Her mother had given her that idea. The duchess had many years experience of dealing with loose-lipped servants. The threat of damaged reputations and poor job prospects usually did the trick.
“And the dogs?”
Augusta nodded. “At Mowbray House for the time being. The footmen have been taking them for daily walks. But we will need to decide on what is to happen with the dogs.”
She might be able to work her magic and somehow convince Flynn to keep the house, but the greyhounds were likely a step too far. Having to see them every day would be a constant reminder of how he had been made to feel less than the late earl’s pets.
“If you would indulge me for a short time, I have a few suggestions about Bramshaw House.”
It wasn’t as fancy a residence as Mowbray House, but it had the bones of a family home. The kitchens would need updating, along with new carpets and some minor repairs. Augusta had done some sums and decided she could make it work without bankrupting them.
He bent and kissed her cheek. “I have a lifetime of indulgence planned for you, my love. Lead on.”
Over the next hour, they moved from room to room. Augusta giving Flynn her opinion as to what could be done and where. When they reached the door of his old bedroom, she stopped. “I think we could leave that room for another time.”
Her husband had been through enough over the past month. Augusta was determined that this one room wasn’t going to break the joy of today. She moved passed the door, heading toward the library at the end of the hall.
“I will catch up with you in a minute,” he said.
Augusta sucked in a deep breath as Flynn disappeared through the doorway of his old room.
* * *
Every time he had sworn to never set foot in this place again, Flynn had proven himself wrong. He was sure the last time, had been the last time.
“And yet, here I am. Standing in my old bedroom.”
