LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘You might have guessed them.’ More likely, it was just as he said. He had been sent to help. But for some reason, his good looks and perfect manners annoyed her. It gave her a dark and unladylike pleasure to see him struggle.

      His composure slipped for only a moment. Then he dug a hand into his coat pocket and came out with a paper. He held it out to her. ‘If it is not as I say, how do you suppose I came by this?’

      It was a letter of credit, signed by Mr Leggett, promising to honour any and all bills without question. The sight of it left her light-headed. He could not know what he was promising. Since Faith and her husband had already left for their honeymoon, it was too late to tell him.

      He mistook the reason for her silence and said, ‘If it helps, think of me as a servant who will be accompanying you as you set matters right. I will be there to assure your safety, handle the transactions and carry the packages.’

      It did not help at all. The idea of him walking a pace behind her like some liveried footman was an abomination. He was too well spoken for a servant and not stern enough for a schoolmaster. If she stretched her imagination to the breaking point, she could see him as a solicitor, but there was a sparkle in his eye better suited to a criminal than a man of law. And no vicar would have that knowing smile.

      He was simply too handsome to be going about town with. Should she be seen with him there would be gossip that had nothing to do with the Stricklands’ financial troubles. And while it was quite all right for the new Earl to see her as sought after, she could not have him thinking that she was being actively courted by Gregory Drake.

      ‘If you fear for your reputation, remember that it will be equally damaged if news of the missing items becomes public.’

      ‘Unless the new Earl can be persuaded to compassionate silence,’ she said, wishing she could go back to her practising and pretend this meeting had never occurred.

      Mr Drake tucked his letter back into his coat, along with her incomplete list. ‘What do you know of your grandfather’s heir, thus far?’

      It was an annoying question, since the answer was obvious. They’d had no contact with the man, other than the request for an audit of the entail to be completed before his arrival, and that had come through a solicitor. It did not bode well. But she put on a false smile to appease her interrogator. ‘I know that he is family and familial bonds are strong. I am sure Mr Strickland will understand the difficulties faced by women who are forced to fend for themselves.’

      ‘We must hope so, for I doubt he has any special affection for this country,’ Mr Drake said, pulling another piece of paper from his opposite pocket. ‘Mr Leggett has also hired me to find what I could about the gentleman you are expecting.’ He scanned his notes. ‘It appears that his grandfather fought bravely in their revolution against this country. More recently, Mr Strickland’s elder brother, Edward, was impressed into the British Navy. Miles Strickland became heir upon Edward’s untimely death in battle.’

      This was what came of optimism. Hope had allowed herself to believe, just once, that with a little effort on her part, things might turn out for the best. And this was how the Lord rewarded her. She swallowed her nerves. ‘If our country has treated him so unfairly, perhaps he will refuse the title and remain in America.’

      ‘It is too late to hope for that, I think,’ Mr Drake announced. ‘Even now, the schooner Mary Beth is on its way from Philadelphia to Bristol. If he booked passage on it, as he planned, he may arrive at any time.’

      ‘We are not at fault for a war on the other side of the world, or the doings of the Royal Navy,’ Hope said, feeling her vision of the future crumbling like a sandcastle at high tide.

      ‘But there is still the matter of the missing entail,’ Mr Drake replied, speaking slowly, as if to a child. ‘It is best that we make sure he has no other reasons to be unhappy with you. Give me a day to examine your list in detail. If it is convenient, I will call for you tomorrow at ten and we will begin the process of making things right.’

      She wanted to argue that it was not convenient at all. He could take the list and go to perdition for all she cared. They were doomed. All doomed. What good would it do her to start a search that she was sure they could never finish?

      But Mr Leggett must have chosen this fellow for his skills in retrieval. Perhaps he could find a way to make things marginally better. If he needed her help, then surely her help was required. The sooner it was begun, the sooner it would be over. And she could not depend on rough winter crossings to delay the Earl indefinitely. The house needed to be in something approaching order when he arrived at it. She forced another smile for Mr Drake. ‘If this is to be settled, I do not see that I have any choice in the matter. I will accompany you as long as certain conditions are met.’

      ‘And they are?’ he said, with an expectant tip of his head.

      ‘For the sake of modesty, I will remain veiled in your presence. We will speak no more than is necessary and under no circumstances will you call me by name while in the presence of others.’

      If he was insulted there was no sign of it. His smile was as distant and unwavering as ever. ‘Of course, Miss Strickland.’

      ‘Then I will expect you at ten o’clock tomorrow.’

      ‘Until then.’ He offered a bow worthy of a true gentleman, then spoiled it by turning towards the back of the house.

      She sighed. ‘You are standing next to a door, Mr Drake. Please, use it.’

      ‘As you wish, Miss Strickland. He turned and let himself out of the front door and into the street.

      Hope moved to the window and watched him walk down Harley Street, sure she could not truly breathe until he was out of sight. Mr Leggett meant well, as did Mr Drake. Even if it did not make things better, their interference could not possibly make things worse. But had it been necessary to tell her about the Earl of Comstock’s antipathy for England? It was almost as if Mr Drake took as much pleasure in seeing her disappointment as she had in his.

      ‘My, what a charming fellow.’ Grandmother stood behind her, looking out the window at their departing visitor.

      ‘He was not charming,’ Hope said, wondering if her grandmother had formed her opinion based on the way the man’s coat hugged his shoulders as he walked. ‘And how would you know, either way? You did not speak to him, did you?’

      Grandmother peered past her at the retreating figure. ‘Only briefly, when he arrived. He is the fellow James hired to help us with the entail.’

      ‘You knew.’ Hope could not help her shrill tone at the discovery that, once again, she had been denied important information and left in an awkward situation to fend for herself.

      ‘Did I forget to mention it?’ She looked at Hope with the widened eyes of one who thought that age and good intentions made up for outright lies. ‘I did not want to trouble you. But when he arrived looking so young and handsome, I assumed the two of you would not want an old chaperon spoiling a perfectly lovely chat.’

      Just as she had suspected. ‘You sent a strange man to speak to me without as much as a footman to explain.’ She probably assumed that if she threw the two of them together they would stick like lodestones, just as Faith and James had. ‘I cannot solve our problems by marrying the first person who walks through the door, you know.’

      Her normally cheerful grandmother arched a sceptical eyebrow. ‘You are a fine one to say such a thing. That is your plan, is it not? To marry the new Earl?’

      ‘That is entirely different,’ Hope replied. At least she knew the Earl’s family. Lord only knew what sort of dubious pedigree Mr Drake might have.

      ‘It is not the worst idea,’ the Dowager admitted. ‘But as I tried to explain to your sister Faith, choosing a husband for financial expediency is never as satisfying as a union based on mutual affection.’ She stared down the street in the direction Mr Drake had disappeared. ‘Or, at least, temporary passion. That fellow

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