Free Paid Companion by Amanda Quick Page A

no employer to be kept satisfied in the bedchamber, but St. Merryn had not even bothered to put in an appearance.
    Until now Ibbitts had been free to do as he liked in the big house. He had used the opportunity to set about making arrangements for an early and comfortable retirement.
    Things had been going well until St. Merryn had arrived a few days before, unannounced, expecting the household to be prepared for him. Ibbitts had been terrified for the first twenty-four hours after the earl had taken up residence. Emboldened by the long absence of his employer, he had made several modifications in the staff. The result was that the mansion was not in the best order.
    He had made the changes for an excellent reason: economy. There had been no point retaining the cook or the housekeeper or the second chambermaid or the gardeners when the mansion’s owner was not around to make use of their services.
    He could only hope that St. Merryn would not stay long, Ibbitts thought. In the meantime, he would learn as much as possible about the earl’s private affairs.
    Over the course of his career, he had discovered that there was often a very good market for information about his employers’ secrets.
    8
    Bennett lowered himself into the chair across from Arthur and glanced back once more toward the lean, angry young man who was just leaving the club. “I see Burnley is here this afternoon.”
    “Yes.” Arthur did not look up from his newspaper.
    “I saw him watching you a few minutes ago. I swear, if looks could kill, you would have cocked up your toes by now.”
    Arthur turned the page. “Fortunately, looks do not have that effect upon me. At least, Burnley’s do not.”
    “I believe that he has conceived a deep hatred of you,” Bennett warned quietly.
    “I cannot comprehend why. He is the one who got the lady, not me.”
    Bennett sighed and sank deeper into his chair. It worried him that Arthur refused to show any signs of concern about Roland Burnley’s clear and unwavering dislike of him. But, then, at the moment his friend was focusing all of his attentions on his scheme to catch his great-uncle’s murderer. And when Arthur concentrated on a venture, it consumed him until it was completed.
    Such intense single-mindedness could be a decidedly irksome trait at times, Bennett thought. But he was forced to admit that it was likely the reason why Arthur had, in the matter of only a few years, managed to rebuild the once-depleted St. Merryn fortunes to their current very high level.
    Although he knew that Arthur was not interested in hearing any warnings about Roland Burnley, Bennett felt obliged to deliver another one.
    “Rumor has it that Burnley’s financial situation has deteriorated to a very low point,” he said, trying to ease into the subject from another angle. “He is trying to recoup his gaming losses in the hells.”
    “If he has resorted to gambling to provide an income, his financial status will only decline further.”
    “No doubt.” Bennett leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I do not like what I see in his face when the two of you are in the same room.”
    “Then do not look at his expression.”
    Bennett sighed. “Very well, but I advise you to guard your back.”
    “Thank you for the advice.”
    Bennett shook his head. “I do not know why I bother.”
    “I apologize if I do not seem to be suitably grateful. The thing is, I have other matters on my mind at the moment. I am about to proceed to the next step of my plan.”
    Once Arthur set one of his convoluted schemes in motion, there was no known force that could halt it, Bennett reminded himself. Usually his friend’s elaborate machinations concerned financial investments. But occasionally he applied his talents toward other types of strategies, invariably with the same degree of success. A smart man did not get between Arthur and his goal, whatever it happened to be.
    “The word has gone out that your mysterious new