Page 81 of A Duke's Unwanted Bride
“You know about the baby?” Warner’s mind struggled to make sense of what he was hearing.I would never have thought less of him for that.
“I suspect he would have kept that last part to himself, but I heard him and Father arguing so loudly about it that I feared the house would fall down around their ears.” Toby winced. “I do not think I have ever seen either of them so angry; they were still not speaking when I had to return to the front.”
“When was this?” Warner could feel the start of a thought forming in his hungover mind, and he moved towards the journal.
“A few weeks before he got engaged to your Duchess. I cannot remember the exact date.” Toby massaged his jaw. “It was partly why I could not come back for the wedding — the leave was too close for the army’s liking.”
Warner nodded as he began to leaf through the book, calculating dates in his mind. Something was nudging his attention, but he could not quite work out what.
“Why did he not write about it?” Warner frowned as he flicked through the pages. “He mentions a disagreement, that he is worried he has disappointed someone, but he does not name your father. He only mentions someone called ‘Souris Day’.”
“That was our little codename for Father,” Toby explained, his eyes going distant at a memory.
“Codename?” Warner’s brow furrowed.
“Eric wanted me to keep up to date with everything that was happening when I enlisted, but the army reads all correspondence. He did not want anything getting out that might jeopardise the estate, so we came up with little names for things.” Toby ran a hand through his hair. “Any reference to ‘Souris’ is father. A reference to ‘Marigold’ is Eric’s love. I had not thought he would use the names in his private thoughts.”
“I suspect he thought it would be easier to be consistent. It would save him from slipping up when he wrote to you.” Warner’s mind burned as the entries seemed to snap into place.That would explain why mentions of ‘Father’ stop appearing after a certain point.“So when he said that Souris Day seemed to be trying to make peace, he was talking of your father.”
Warner’s mind was racing; the heaviness of the scotch had lifted.
“Indeed.” Toby was now reading over Warner’s shoulder, and he pointed to a line on the page. “That must be when they made up. ‘Souris has offered to have Kidlington house redecorated and to cover all the expenses — something of a wedding present.’I know they discussed this at length. You know how little Eric cared for the latest fashions of the ton, but father insisted that after the things he had said, it was the least that he could do.”
Warner stared at the page Toby was pointing to, reading the words as the bottom fell from his stomach. Toby continued speaking, apparently unaware of the turmoil within Warner.
“He truly went overboard. Ordered the most expensive bits and pieces you could imagine. Still, you can’t deny the house looks better for it. Pity Eric never got the chance to really enjoy it. I wish I could remember the pigment; I’d like to get some for the Dowager Cottage.” Toby mused. “Some foreign sounding name.”
Warner looked from his cousin to the journal and then to the list provided by the chemist. His heart hammered so fiercely against his ribs that he feared it might burst from it.
His mouth was dry as he asked, “Was it Prussian Blue, by any chance?”
Toby nodded. “How did you know?”
“I need you to decipher the rest of that list.” Warner’s eyes were unfocused. “And then I am going to speak to my wife.”
Twenty-Nine
“He really did think of everything.” Adele ran her hands along the rows of beautifully bound books that lined the sewing room of her new townhouse.
The sewing room had everything she would need for her projects, and the window placement meant that the room would get light throughout the day. The chairs were comfortable, and Adele had a suspicion that Warner had commissioned them to fit her perfectly.
Most things were usually a little too short for her, given her height, but not these. The desk was the most comfortable she had ever worked at.
Her heart twisted as she thought of Warner. She had not heard from him since she had left. “He does not miss me.”
She hated the way that made her feel. The way the coldness of the thought seeped into her bones. Adele heard a knock at the front door and made her way to the hallway.
Mr. Jenkins was already standing at the front door and opening it. “May I ask who is calling?”
It had taken Adele a day or so to decide that it would be easier to bring some of the staff from Kidlington house to the townhouse. Mrs. Patmore had assisted, clearly determined to make things right between them, and Adele did not have the energy to try and start from scratch.
“Lady Anne Danby, Countess of Montrose.” Anne’s voice rang out, and Adele felt her heart leap. “My sister is expecting me.”
“And your companion.” Mr. Jenkins voice was polite, but firm.
The staff had adopted a protective air since Adele had been in the house, and while it warmed her, it also made her heart ache. The ache was worsened when she heard a familiar voice answer Mr. Jenkins’ question.
“I am Lady Bianca Swinton, Countess of Crowley.” Bianca’s voice held an edge.
