Page 88 of The Mistletoe Countess
“What happens to the money, you mean?”
“Right.” Frederick’s jaw tensed as his musing took on voice. “After securing my sister’s allowance and a few stipends to certain staff, according to Edward’s most recent will, if the estate is sold, the remaining funds are divided among the three widows.”
“Three?”
“Yes.” Frederick shot Elliott a knowing look. “Mother, Lady Astley, and—”
Elliott’s gaze locked with Frederick’s. “Lady Celia.”
“Exactly.”
“I think you ought to have a new will written straightaway, sir.” Elliott drew in a deep breath. “Not that I expect your death, but I wouldn’t want Celia Blackmore taking anything more from Havensbrooke than she already has.”
The day ended much better than it had begun. Frederick located Jack Miracle, the young and astute private detective he had read about in the papers. Miracle took detailed notes on Frederick’s knowledge and conjectures, as well as interviewed Elliott. Something about knowing a detective was keeping watch put a little more confidence in Frederick’s steps.
Andrew Piper was in the process of leaving his office for the day when Frederick and Elliott caught him. He welcomed Frederick like the lost prodigal, and after hearing an accounting of all the facts thus far, Piper readily took back his position as solicitor for Havensbrooke. He even made plans to meet with Detective Miracle before traveling to Havensbrooke within the week to divulge any inconsistencies he uncovered in the information Frederick left with him.
As Elliott and Frederick settled back at the town house for the night, the weight Frederick had carried since leaving Havensbrooke felt a little lighter. Blake. Piper. Elliott. Miracle. He had four allies in the messy affair now—his grin spread as he removed his coat—and Grace, of course. Who knew what she’d been up to during his absence? Knowing she’d met Eleanor and had Aunt Lavenia as an acquaintance made the idea of leaving her alone with Mother a bit easier, especially since Mother had refused to leave her rooms since Frederick had told her he was searching for a dower house for her.
The same longing he’d experienced throughout the day branched through his chest. He missed Grace.
As Frederick turned toward the desk to read through some of the documents he’d collected from the former solicitor, another envelope, like the one from the night before, caught his eye. Frederick picked up the card and pointed it toward the valet. “Did she plan this with you?”
Elliott’s brows rose in faux surprise. “I assure you, sir, I only followed Lady Astley’s instructions.”
“Which, I suspect, were quite detailed.” Frederick imagined his wife with her bright eyes regaling the valet with her secret designs.
“And given with great excitement, sir.”
Frederick’s smile unfurled. “No doubt.”
“If I might say so, she does bring a certain light with her. It doesn’t go unnoticed in the house or”—Elliott turned to place Frederick’s jacket in the wardrobe—“in you, sir.”
Frederick slid down into the desk chair. “Why, Elliott, you sound almost poetic.”
“I shall try to refrain from future exposition, my lord.”
Frederick chuckled at the man’s droll reply, but the observation clung around his heart with welcome truth. “You’re right, though. She does bring light with her.”
“If you were hoping to add the right people to your good intentions, a higher hand chose better for you than you chose for yourself.”
Frederick lowered his face with a nod, slowly peeling open the note. “It’s a pity it’s taken me such hardship to prefer His choices to mine.”
“As my mother would say, sir, that is the beginning of wisdom.”
Frederick cast him a knowing grin, embracing the awareness of God’s fingerprints all over the debacle with Lillias. No, he wouldn’t have chosen as well for himself. He’d have chosen out of duty and necessity, but God chose for his heart.
Once Elliott left the room, Frederick opened his note.
Oh, hero of mine, I’m determined to keep myself fresh in your thoughts.
He could practically see her sitting at her desk, pen in hand, mischievous smile tipping her tantalizing lips into a grin.
And if you were to miss me in the slightest, I thought these notes would help me feel closer to you. I’m a sentimental girl, but I hope you don’t mind it too awfully. I can assure you, it will only prove to be for your benefit, especially once you return and I can sequester you away all to myself.
The slow rising heat associated with her innuendo scorched the inside of his throat with a rush of longing. It had taken him much too long to go to sleep last night as she visited his thoughts. The endearing minx. She would most certainly accompany him on any trip from this point forward.
Of course I wish for your journey to be successful, but I do hope you miss me a little bit. I’m certain I shall miss you. If you’re to become my dearest friend—and we’ve gotten off to a very friendly start—then I shall have to find things to do to distract myself from searching the drive for your return.
