Page 24 of Her Impeccable Scoundrel
“I suppose he had to report in.”
“Where are we going today?” Radley asked.
“We’ll visit the lending library.”
Radley raised an eyebrow. The library shelves at Chilcombe House were jammed with books. Archie had not been the sort to stock the shelves with new publications, and neither the maintenance disbursements while the will was pending, nor her personal savings, allowed for the extravagance of purchasing novels. “I’ve yet to find a copy of Mary Shelley’s latest story,” she said.
Radley’s eyes lit. “You must loan it to me after you’ve finished, my lady.”
A jiggling of the door latch brought a maid with a tray.
“Tea and some lemon cakes, my lady.” The maid settled the tray on the small table between the chairs, while Radley clipped a thread and set aside her work.
“How thoughtful, Sarah,” Blythe said. “I’m parched. I wonder… would you knock on my brother’s door and ask if him if he’d like to join me?”
“Captain Lynford is in the study with his lordship,” the maid said.
A niggle of apprehension went through her. “Oh?” What was Will up to?
* * *
Blythe hurried into a new gown and made her way to the study. Graeme was there alone, standing near the window and frowning into a snifter of brandy.
He looked up and the frown on his face softened almost imperceptibly.
Framed in the light, his hair flashed hints of gold. She could see traces of the boy he’d once been, a handsome boy, yet he’d grown into an even more attractive man, gentlemanly and more capable of charm than she’d initially thought.
They’d had that first skirmish over her desire to move to Mivart’s, but since then he’d been nothing but kind to her.
Kind without raising the suspicion he wanted more.
“Your brother has been in to give me a tongue-lashing. I have no intentions of casting you out, if you’re wondering.”
She let out a breath. “I’d hoped to catch him before he troubled you with… with my business.”
“It seems your business is my business, Blythe.”
Blythe. There it was—the use of her Christian name. She’d best leave her guard up.
“No.” She shook her head. “I hope all went well with your morning meeting.”
“The superior I was reporting to had a visitor. Lord Diddenton.”
Diddenton. A slow burn started in the pit of her stomach.
As a new bride, she had met the marquess years ago at one or two society events. Since her return to town, she’d not been included in the social events attended by the lofty members of his circle.
What had Diddenton said? What accusations had he made?
What did he know that Blythe didn’t know?
She felt certain that Diddenton hadn’t found the other signed copy of the will, else he’d have proceeded swiftly to evict all the residents of Bluebelle Lodge.
Could she trust Graeme enough to give her a true answer about what had transpired? Or ought she to shrug off the matter until the court ruled on the will? Or perhaps, push Graeme to convince the court there was no new will?
No… not yet. She didn’t know Graeme well enough yet to make that last argument.
“I fear I must visit Risley Manor sooner than expected,” he said. “I’m leaving early tomorrow. You need not come with me.”
