Free BRIGHTON BEAUTY by Marilyn Clay Page B

nonetheless she managed to gather enough courage to breeze past him. "I am telling you everything, sir. I have told you I have no intention of removing to Honduras and how I propose to live. What more could there be?" she tossed off airily. But, stepping into the corridor, she cringed when she caught sight of a sly smile softening the stern lines of his mouth.
    "I haven't a clue, Alayna. But I will tell you this much, I shall not rest until I have uncovered the whole truth. Whatever that may be."
    * * * *
    S omething was vastly awry, Lord Rathbone told himself as he headed for the library. Alayna was resisting him, but not for the reasons she'd given. A moment ago, he'd nearly laughed aloud when she said she meant to live "freely," to fall in and out of love with whomever she pleased. Not that she was not attractive enough to do precisely that, but any fool could see that to live in such a fashion was not in Alayna's character. Why, she sounded like a silly schoolgirl with a head full of romantical ideas. Alayna could never live such a life!
    In the library, he drew out several large account books from the top drawer of a centuries old desk where he had often watched his father sit and work. Opening the first dusty volume, he had to turn only a few yellowed pages to see that the ledgers had not been dealt with in years.
    Reaching for a teetering pile of receipts, he began the daunting task of bringing the account books up to date. But, for some reason, he experienced difficulty concentrating. Lifting his head, he tapped the end of his pencil to his chin.
    Alayna looked especially pretty today in a becoming peach-coloured morning gown, her golden hair tied back from her face with a blue ribbon. He inhaled a sharp breath. His cousin had, indeed, become a beautiful young lady. And considering her sheltered upbringing . . . he lips pressed tightly together . . . one could only wonder how her head got filled with the fanciful notions she'd outlined to him earlier. The idea was preposterous! Did not bear thinking upon. He set again to work.
    Only to pause once more. Truth to tell, if he had received the portrait Alayna had sent to him upon the announcement of their betrothal, he'd have been tempted to sail for England straightaway in order to be here for their wedding. And, for the honeymoon. Feeling an uncomfortable tightening sensation in his loins, he frowned.
    Ridiculous! He could not be falling in love with his cousin. Love only complicated matters and he'd not allow it. He'd have no part of Alayna's caperwitted scheme about living apart from one another either!
    With decision, he turned again to his work.
    * * * *
    A fter supper that evening, the three of them, Chelsea, Lady Rathbone and Rutherford settled themselves in a cozy sitting room to partake of a second cup of tea.
    Lord Rathbone had spent nearly the whole of dinner relaying his findings in the account books to his mother.
    Handing a fresh cup of tea to her now, he said, "It is imperative that we hire a trustworthy bailiff, Mother. I am amazed that things have not fallen to complete rack and ruin with only the housekeeper, Mrs. Phipps at the helm. That is not to imply that she is incompetent, but she is a woman, and women know very little of business matters."
    Without thinking, Chelsea took umbrage at that. "Some women know a great deal about business!" she snapped.
    Both Lord and Lady Rathbone fixed startled gazes on her. Surprised by her own outburst, Chelsea squirmed. "Er, what I mean to say is that . . . not all women are unschooled in such matters."
    Lord Rathbone's lips began to twitch. "I see. And I take it you count yourself among the enlightened few?"
    Chelsea sniffed . . . and realized she had no idea how to respond. Alayna knew absolutely nothing about estate affairs, and truth to tell, Chelsea knew little enough herself. But she'd had some experience with household records during her time with Lady Hennessey, and Mr. Merribone had put her in charge of