Page 96 of Foes, Friends and Lovers
“I would strongly advise that you insist they bring their books to you at the bindery and fetch them once they’re re-bound.” Across the desk, Caitlin met Gregory’s eyes. “We can’t accept responsibility for carting books of such value across the country, even if it’s not that far.”
Everyone agreed, and they worked out a pricing structure based on the samples they would take.
“That should cover it.” Gregory eyed the stack of selected books. “From memory, most of the books in a college library would be similar in size and style to one of these.”
“We’ll take a big enough range of leather samples to cover anything they’re likely to have in their collections.” Isabelle’s confidence had grown wings. She smiled at her daughter. “We’ll manage.”
With all decided and a trip to Oxford planned for the following week, Gregory and Caitlin walked mother and daughter down the front steps and waved them on their way.
Once again basking in the pleasurable glow of having steered one of the Hall’s businesses to the next level of success, Gregory turned toward the steps.
Having halted one step up, Caitlin met his eyes, then leaned close and kissed him.
A soft, simple, yet alluring kiss. When she drew back, his lips still curved, he arched his brows. “What was that for?”
She laughed, turned, and linked her arm in his. “That,” she said, as they climbed the steps, “was a thank-you for being you.”
The following day brought several replies to his appeals for information about Ecton.
Immediately after luncheon, Gregory closeted himself in the library and delved into the small pile.
The first letter proved to be from Martin—a scrawled note informing Gregory that his younger brother was pursuing the matter of why Ecton wanted to purchase the Hall and would write when he had any insight to share.
Gregory grunted. Reading between Martin’s scrappy lines, it sounded as if he thought he might find the answer. Eventually.
Gregory grimaced. “I can but hope.”
He laid that missive aside and opened the next, which proved to be from Devlin and Therese. His brother-in-law wrote that he hadn’t been able to unearth any hint of Ecton being involved in any legitimate investment scheme or fund. Nor had he found anyone who could tell him anything about the Ecton Hall property as it currently was, which led Devlin to conclude that the land encompassed by Ecton’s estate had never featured on anyone’s list as holding any significant value. As to why Ecton might want to buy the Hall estate, Devlin was as mystified as Gregory.
Given that, with Therese, Devlin had visited the Hall on several occasions when Timms was alive, Gregory trusted Devlin’s assessment, which essentially mirrored his own. The value in the Hall’s lands lay in the businesses those lands supported, and Ecton had no interest in such enterprises.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Gregory murmured. If Devlin knew of no investment interest in either the Ecton Hall or Bellamy Hall estates…
Gregory shook his head and read on.
Therese had, of course, added a postscript—a lengthy one—in which she informed Gregory in no uncertain terms that Ecton waspersona non gratain ton circles. To her knowledge, his lordship had been banned from most of the houses of her acquaintance after a deeply regrettable incident that had occurred in the gardens of Devonshire House, in which instance Ecton had been found to be inebriated beyond recall and subsequently had behaved with such outlandish licentiousness that he’d been jettisoned from the house and effectively banished. And not just from the upper echelons of society.
His sister wrote that the general consensus was that Ecton’s pockets were to let and his estate was far too small and encumbered to counteract such a failing. Despite his rank, he was, therefore, not considered worth a glance from even the most desperate of matchmakers. Indeed, Therese wrote, on all fronts, Ecton was considered to be a complete waste of time.
Gregory smiled at his sister’s forthright phrasing, but given her position as Devlin’s countess and her deep connections throughout all levels of society, Gregory knew he could rely on the veracity of every word she wrote. She might not be giving him chapter and verse, but if she said Ecton was next to penniless, he was.
“So how the devil does he think he’ll put together twenty thousand pounds to buy the Hall?” The more Gregory mulled that question, the more he suspected the answer lay along the lines of Ecton never quite coming up with the money.
Frowning, he shook his head. “He must think me a dolt.” Certainly one easy to dupe.
The third letter came from Drake and Louisa, although Drake had penned the entire missive, for which small mercy Gregory was grateful. If Louisa had written, there would have been as many pointed questions as pieces of information imparted. And Louisa never forgot unanswered questions.
Deeming himself to have escaped lightly, he swiftly scanned the letter, but for once, Drake had no light to shed on Ecton or on what was driving his interest in the Hall. Beyond confirming that Ecton did not inhabit the better London clubs but was said to run with a very rum set of the disaffected and profligate, Drake had nothing to add regarding Ecton personally. As to Ecton’s reason for wanting to buy the Hall, Drake had underlined that he would be very interested in learning what that was.
Gregory snorted. “You and me both.”
Drake concluded with a firm request to be informed of the outcome of the situation at the Hall and, especially, of what lay behind Ecton’s interest.
“Assuming I ever learn what that is.” Gregory set Drake’s letter aside, picked up the second-last envelope, and smiled. “Toby.”
He broke the seal and unfolded the single sheet. Although younger by some years, Toby was one of those of whom it was said that they had an old head on young shoulders. He was steady and reliable and very,veryclever. More to the point, Toby often acted as eyes and ears for Drake in many different venues. It was possible he’d run across Ecton somewhere, which was why Gregory had written to him.
Sure enough, Toby had a few insights about the man to share.
