Page 77 of The Mistletoe Countess
“And undeniably smarter, from a clever response like that.”
He chuckled and took her hand, leading her down the hallway. “If there’s to be any information left behind, it would be in Edward’s or Celia’s rooms.”
“If your grandfather made improvements to the east wing before he died, were they extensive enough to deplete the estate’s funds to such an extent you were forced to marry to save it?”
Frederick paused his hand on Edward’s study door. “I wasn’t privy to the finances before Edward died, and I’m just now attempting to sort through them, but I never heard of financial trials while Grandfather held charge. What I uncovered when I inherited the title was a shock. It seemed impossible my brother had allowed matters to become so dire.”
Frederick pushed open the door, the unexpected scent of cigar smoke hitting him with the force of a fist. His breath lodged in his lungs.
“Oh, would you mind if I confiscated your grandparents’ letters?” Grace’s voice pushed him back in motion. She took a small box from Edward’s desk and presented it for his examination. “After all the wonderful things you’ve said about them, I’m terribly curious to learn of their romance.”
Frederick touched the edges of the first letter, his grandfather’s handwriting pricking a renewed sense of grief. “I’d like that.”
“Perhaps I could read them aloud to you.” She leaned nearer, her eyes twinkling. “Wouldn’t that be romantic?”
A few more shadows dispersed in the wake of her smile.
They rummaged through the desk and cupboards, collecting ledgers and papers, Grace making comments here and there about the furnishings or comparing the situation to a novel or suggesting how one room or other could look different with this or that.
The longer he stayed among the halls, the warmth of the morning knocking the chill off the place, the more Frederick felt ready to make this part of the house his own.
He glanced at Grace.Theirown.
Grace’s exuberance about the turret windows in his sister-in-law’s old rooms brought a grin as he stacked the letters from her desk to carry away. This room was meant for Grace—the morning light, the delicate moldings, the turrets on either side, and only a walk through an excellently windowed parlor to the room he’d make his.
A knock to the door brought his head up. Brandon entered, gaze taking in the space before approaching Frederick. “Sir, a telegram arrived for you.”
“How are you this morning, Brandon?” Grace’s voice lilted from the bookshelf near the window.
“Very good, miss.”
Frederick stifled his smile as he looked at the butler who, if Frederick wasn’t mistaken, had taken quite a fancy to the new lady of Havensbrooke. Not only had the man resurrected a sudden interest in the weather to prepare for any upcoming storms, but strawberries appeared in great abundance this year. At almost every meal.
“Dear Brandon,” Grace fidgeted with the sleeve of her gown as she crossed the room. Frederick grinned at the habit of her busy finger to match her busy mind. “I’m sorry to bring up such a sad memory, but during the last week of Edward’s life, were there any unexpected visitors?”
Frederick’s attention shot to Grace, then to the butler, who shifted his attention to Frederick as if to ask for permission to answer.
Frederick gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Lady Celia had a gentleman visit. A Mr. Turner, her cousin, if I recall.”
“You didn’t like this Mr. Turner?” Frederick had known Brandon a long time, long enough to read the man.
Brandon lowered his gaze, as if thinking. “He wasn’t a pleasant sort, sir. He had a look about him.”
“Did he have a protruding nose like a pirate’s hook?” Grace shuffled a few steps closer, “Or a black, shaggy set of eyebrows perched above two beady eyes?”
Frederick squinted at his wife, trying to sort out her train of thought.
Brandon’s brows raised northward at Grace’s very specific question. “As a matter of fact, my lady, he did.”
Grace sent Frederick a wide-eyed look but quickly diverted her focus back to Brandon. “And he was the only visitor?”
“Mr. Parks came to see the late Lord Astley earlier in the week.”
Brandon shifted his attention to Frederick. “May I ask why the sudden curiosity regarding your brother, sir?”
“We discovered information in my brother’s papers that led to some unanswered questions.”
