Free Counterfeit Countess by Lynne Connolly Page B

spent lovemaking and sleeping might have better been employed creating a story that they both could answer to with confidence. The interruption and the consequent order of fresh tea gave the discussion a different turn, and John explained he’d arranged to have the books delivered to the house. An estate as large as the one he commanded would always have a legal case or two pending. “I need to review everything,” he said.
    Lady Graywood demurred, her hand delineating a graceful arc.
    “Surely not, Graywood. Roker has had the business of the estate in 60 | Lynne Connolly
    hand since the Restoration. I doubt there are any irregularities.”
    “I desire to understand the business of the earldom completely.
    When the steward has recovered from his chill, I want interviews with him as well, although I feel they might be more rigorous. And I desire my wife to meet my own man of business. I have an appointment at his offices tomorrow.”
    “Can you not summon him here? That would be more convenient, would it not?” Lady Graywood’s expression said it all.
    She strongly disapproved of the Earl of Graywood attending his lessers in that way. “Of course, in your previous life you would have need to take such tasks on yourself. I can see no such requirement now.” Lady Graywood leaned back, as much as she could in her tight stays, with a satisfied smile, as though she had successfully concluded the matter.
    “I see it,” John said. If the dowager had known him better, she’d have given in when she saw the light of battle in his eyes. Faith had seen that expression before, in different circumstances. “I control my investments myself. I intend to continue to do so.” He turned his full attention to the dowager and she met his gaze, but stiffened even more than usual. She’d needed some reserve to stand up to that regiment-commander stare. It said much for her character that she managed to do so.
    “It is, of course, not my concern,” she said, “Merely that some people will find the practice a trifle-odd.”
    “Some people may go hang,” he said bluntly, then swung his attention to Faith.
    She braced herself but she saw only kindness and polite interest.
    “Would you care to accompany me? The offices are on the docks, so a trifle inaccessible for a woman of sensibility but accompanied by your husband it would be unexceptional.”
    Why would he want her? Faith had no idea, but she liked the notion. “Yes please.”
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    He gave her a sweet smile. “I prefer my wife to know who she may call on in the event of my demise. Mr. Pickering is definitely someone you should know.”
    He kept saying that word, ‘wife.’ She felt uncomfortable when he said it, especially when he used the word with such ease. “I don’t want to think about that,” she said without considering her remark, because his use of the other word had unnerved her. It revealed too much. She’d always yearned for him, dreamed of him, but when she finally achieved her aim, it had been so much more than she’d imagined.
    The corner of his mouth moved but she did not mistake the hunger that entered his gaze. “Thank you. None of us wish to think about it, but in that eventuality, it must be considered, and it would be better if you knew the key people.”
    “I don’t think my son mentioned a Pickering.” Concerned at the quaver in her ladyship’s voice, Faith turned her attention back to her, but as usual, the lady showed no emotion.
    “Pickering is my agent,” he said. “He is a sound man. I intend to ask him to examine the shipping concerns of the earldom and compile a report for me.”
    The dowager showed no response, only a shrug. “You will, I’m sure, excuse me from such considerations.” She shot Faith a glare.
    “It’s not a woman’s affair.” She seemed most insistent on that point.
    Had her husband instilled it in her?
    “Indeed,” she said immediately, and then saw a way she could mollify the