Heiress in Red Silk, Hunter, Madeline [good beach reads TXT] 📗

and began sawing and chopping wood. Two men sitting on either side of a table appeared to be playing a game of cards.

A large swan in particular fascinated her. At least four feet high and made out of hundreds of pieces of shiny, painted metal, it crooked its neck, turned it, and preened at feathers that rose up and down. Then it turned back, dipped its head, and lifted it with a tiny metal fish in its bill.

“I have the finest collection in England. The biggest too. Quite likely the largest in the world, but I dare not make that claim lest there is some secret hoard of which I am unaware. This one here is from Bavaria. That one came from Naples.”

“What are they for?”

“For? Why, they give delight. They amuse. They show the ingenuity and art of their creators.” He glanced askance at her. “Ah. You mean how are they useful. I see you have found a kindred mind in your partner, Kevin. Someone else who believes something has no value if it is not producing something or making someone money.”

“She did not say they did not have value, nor that they did not make anyone money. After all, you paid handsomely for them. And should you ever sell them, their value, which is considerable, will be apparent.”

That received a deep frown. “Parsing through my words, as is typical of you.”

“Have you seen your full, Miss Jameson? I believe the cook will be sending up a luncheon soon.”

“I be both done and dazzled. Thank you for sharing your rare collection, sir.”

Kevin escorted her out. His father, to her dismay, came right along with them.

The luncheon was delicious but a trial. She tried mightily to use the right implements for each dish, and to speak properly. It progressed fairly well, with the senior Mr. Radnor filling the time with one-sided speeches about how the rabble were making Town unlivable, what with their demonstrations and complaints. The meal was punctuated by sharp, brief arguments when father and son disagreed.

The inevitable question came, just as the footman brought in a cake.

“I am curious, Miss Jameson. How were you acquainted with my brother, Hollinburgh?”

She chose her words carefully. “We had a mutual friend. When she became ill, I cared for her.”

“And for that he left you a fortune?”

She shrugged. “I cannot know what his thoughts were. Because he was your brother, perhaps you can.”

He speared her with a long gaze, then smiled and chortled. “Explain his mind or intentions? As if anyone could. Besides, I barely saw him the last ten years and not at all the last five.”

“Yet you lived so close by. Surely you would have seen each other in the park, if nowhere else?”

“My father has not left this house in five years,” Kevin said in a matter-of-fact manner.

His father noticed her surprise. “Too crowded in Town now. Too dirty. My friends visit me here. My family has chosen not to.”

“Your sisters think you should call on them,” Kevin said.

“Spoiled girls, the lot of them. Now, Miss Jameson, you have a fortune and half of my son’s enterprise. Pity you aren’t married. Dare I trust you will be soon?”

“Your isolation has made you forget the most common courtesies, Father. One does not ask women that.”

“I’m sure Miss Jameson doesn’t mind.”

“Actually, sir, I do.”

He startled at that response. “Well, then, I must apologize. However, let me tell you why I asked. You see, if you were married, you might have a husband with a good knowledge of trade or mechanics, who could take this invention my son has and actually do something with it, thus relieving him of the obligation to spend all his time on such ignoble matters.”

Kevin’s jaw hardened.

His father looked back, stone-faced and equally belligerent.

Rosamund looked from one to the other. The air fairly crackling with the impending storm.

It was Kevin who chose to stand down. “The meal is done,” he said to her. “Let us take our leave and find a place where we can speak of déclassé things out of my father’s hearing. It has stopped raining, so the garden is available.”

She rose quickly and made a clumsy curtsy in her host’s direction. Kevin escorted her out of the chamber.

“I apologize for my father’s atrocious behavior,” he said as soon as they were alone.

“It went better than I expected. I thought he would insult me directly. I never expected him to save that for you.”

“He loves nothing better than to instigate a row. I’m sure he’s keenly disappointed that I refused to rise to the bait.”

“That must be tiresome on a daily basis.”

“I assure you that I manage not to see him very often.”

“Why still live here if he enjoys baiting you?”

He brought her to the morning room and opened the door to the garden. “The family never visits him and friends ceased doing so years ago. If I did not live here, he would be completely alone.”

* * *

It had been a short rainfall and already the breeze dried the grass and paths as he strolled beside Miss Jameson.

He stole a glance in her direction. Although she looked at the new growth showing on the plants, her expression showed her preoccupation about something. Also perhaps a little fear, as if she hesitated now.

“You said you wanted to talk about something.”

“Two somethings. The first one be awkward.... When we were in the park, Mrs. Radnor said something to me about the late duke’s death being a bit mysterious. She said . . . it was perhaps not an accident.”

Felicity was an interfering little fool. “No one really knows what happened.”

“She said—she said the family thinks he may have been done in.”

“The Home Office looked into it and determined it was an accident.”

“Do you think it was?”

Damnation. “I leave it to others who are wiser about such things. Chase made inquiries, I know, and he has not declared it other than an accident, so it appears it was just that. And the other matter you wanted