Page 45 of Her Wicked Highwayman
“Well.” Rosalind tapped her chin. “The consolidated annuities provide a return of 3 percent, which is quite decent and safe, but I think India bonds would yield 10 percent. Since they are riskier, I will, as your banker, cover the risk of loss by 80 percent for the first year.”
Diana’s eyes widened. “You would cover that much?”
Rosalind gave an elegant shrug. “I have plenty of money to spare should the bonds devalue. But I wish to help you and am willing to take on that risk.”
“Well, I’m immensely grateful.” Diana handed Rosalind the banknotes.
“And other than my husband, I promise no one will know of this arrangement,” Rosalind assured her.
“Thank you.” They discussed a few more strategies in the meantime to assure that Diana would have some money for living expenses until the bonds began to pay off.
“Now, let’s have tea out on the terrace.” Rosalind grinned. “The weather is too lovely to be indoors, at least for now. I believe storms are on the way, but we won’t have them for a little while yet.”
Isla listened quietlyto the two women discuss business just outside the door. She had heard lots of business talk since she’d moved into Lennox House. Uncle Ash and Aunt Rosalind seemed to love to talk about such things, and whenever they did, they often ended up kissing. Isla always giggled when they did that.
Uncle Ash wasn’t as scary and serious as he pretended to be. Whenever Papa had to leave, Uncle Ash and Aunt Rosalind would read her stories, take her on walks, and play with her in the gardens. Uncle Ash even let her have extra biscuits at teatime and he would carry her around on his shoulders, pretending to be a giant. Rosalind would let her hold baby Malcolm on her lap and rock him to sleep. She felt like this washerfamily, even though her real mama and papa were gone.
Isla clutched Mrs. Crumpet as she remembered the first time she saw her new papa, when she had been rescued by Uncle Brodie and Aunt Lydia. Her new papa had been lonely. She’d known right away that he needed her, so she’d attached herself to him. That first night he had read her a story to go to sleep, and she’d dreamt of Mama standing in the room watching her with her new papa. Her mama had smiled and whispered, “Yes.” Isla knew that her mama liked her new papa very much.
But now Isla was aware that she needed a new mama too. Uncle Ash had told Aunt Rosalind that Rafe, as a papa, needed a wife so that Isla would have a new mother. She didn’t understand why Papa needed awife, but Isla would be happy to have a mama again.
But if she needed a mama, she wanted one like the lady who was visiting.Diana. She was pretty and kind. She had treated Mrs. Crumpet like a duchess. Maybe she would want to have a daughter? But did she want a husband like Papa? Isla adored Papa, but would her new mama? Would they kiss like Uncle Ash and Aunt Rosalind?
Weighed down with these deep questions, Isla hurried up the stairs at a run and collided with Uncle Ash at the top.
“Well, Isla, you’re in a hurry!” He chuckled as he scooped her and Mrs. Crumpet up in his arms. “Where are the pair of you off to?” he asked.
“To wake Papa. He has to meet the new lady! She can be my new mama!”
“There’s a new lady and you want Rafe to meet her?” Ashton’s mustache twitched as he realized what else she had said. “Wait, he’s still in bed at this hour?” Ashton’s brows drew together into a frown.
She nodded and squirmed, wanting to be put down so she could go wake her papa.
“I suppose I should let you get on with your mission, then. Rouse the rogue from his sleep.”
He set her down and she ran straight to Papa’s bedchamber. She opened the door and crept inside the darkened room. The curtains were pulled closed to make the room dim. Sometimes he was out very late and had to sleep in.
Uncle Ash and Aunt Rosalind didn’t know about all the times that he left late at night, but Isla did. Sometimes when she had bad dreams, she would go to his bedchamber, wanting to becuddled until she fell back asleep, but Papa would be gone. One night, she’d hidden in his wardrobe behind some cloaks, where she fell asleep. She woke a little while later when he returned just before dawn. She’d had to wait until he was asleep before she crept out of the wardrobe and climbed into the bed beside him. She always felt safe when her papa was near. He never seemed to mind when she woke him up at night. Instead, he’d tuck her beneath the blankets and say, “Bad dreams, little kitten? Sleep now. You’re safe with me.”
And then, as if he’d cast some magic spell, she’d fall instantly asleep.
Now Isla studied her papa. He was sleeping on his stomach, one arm hanging off the side of the bed, breathing softly. With a barely stifled giggle, she tucked Mrs. Crumpet under one arm and then climbed up on the chaise longue at the foot of the bed. Then, with a squeal, she jumped straight onto her papa’s back.
“Oof!” he wheezed and woke with a start.
“’Tis a bonnie day, Papa! Ye must wake up!”
“You little rascal,” he rasped. He rolled over, sending her flying off him to bounce on the big bed. She couldn’t hold in her giggles any longer, and her laughter made him let out a raspy chuckle.
He threw one arm over his eyes as he lay on his back. “What hour is it, kitten?”
“’Tis three o’clock,” she declared proudly. She’d been learning to read the time from the grandfather clock with Uncle Ash each morning at breakfast. Papa would usually sit with her and practice reading letters later in the morning. He would write stories about fairies and magical toads and other silly things, and she would sound out the words. She liked to read, especially with Papa.
Her papa let out another displeased moan. “Ugh. I feel as though I’ve been run over by a coach and four.”
“What’s a coach and four?” Isla asked.
“A very large coach pulled by four horses,” her papa explained. “Now what’s all the fuss, kitten?”
