A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,10
annoyance.”
“It’s only been a month,” Christian said. “Perhaps you should have Dr. Artemis take a look and see how the healing’s coming.”
“Not that sawbones.” Morgan shook his head. “No disrespect, sir, but he always wants to cut something off when he sees me.”
“Shall we find someone else to help you?” Christian turned from the mirror and studied his valet.
“No, sir. I’ll manage.” He held two cravats in his hands, debating which one for Christian to wear. He chose the one without lace.
Knowing Morgan, he would try and hide the pain so as not to be a bother. “I’m going to send a few notes around to some colleagues whom I respect. Maybe they can recommend someone for you.” Christian took the neckcloth. With the other hand, he picked up two letters he’d written. “Will you see these posted?”
Morgan glanced at the missives in his hand. “I wonder how Lord Sykeston and Lord Grayson are faring?”
Christian scowled. “Grayson is well. He’s coming to town soon. Sykeston hasn’t answered my last letter so I thought I’d reach out again.”
“Wise thinking, Captain,” Morgan agreed. “Good to try and reestablish your friendship with Lord Sykeston. Speaking of men who’ve returned home, I’ve got Reed settled in the kitchens. He’s helping the cook rearrange the pantry.”
“Thank you.” Christian tied the cravat into a simple mathematical knot.
“Captain, if I may speak freely?”
“Of course,” Christian answered.
“It’s kindhearted to help these men.” The valet gently smiled. “But, respectfully, you can’t hire them all. The next man you hire will have to sleep on a cot in the kitchen. We’re out of room.”
Christian smoothed his waistcoat to keep from fisting his hands. Every time he thought of one of his men begging for food or shelter, he wanted to punch something. He glanced in Morgan’s direction, and the empathy in the man’s eyes spoke volumes. He felt the same as Christian, but he made a good point.
If Christian didn’t come up with another idea for employment soon, there might be a revolt in his house. The cook was already grumbling that there were too many “cooks” in the kitchen. His housekeeper had been quite direct that the extra servants meant more work for her housekeeping staff.
Before Christian could reply, a knock sounded on the sitting room door adjacent to Christian’s dressing room. Morgan immediately answered, then returned. “Mr. Hanes has arrived.”
Christian nodded, then entered his private sitting room, where the visitor currently was setting up his portable desk. As the family solicitor made a motion to stand, Christian held up his hand. “There’s no need. Thank you for coming. I wanted to see how today ended.”
Mr. Hanes pushed up his wire-framed glasses, then blinked slowly. Such an action made the man look like an owl regarding his surroundings. “They all wanted to know the specifics of their dowries and marriage settlements. Unbelievable sight,” Mr. Hanes said in wonderment. “They walked hand in hand out the door together like a merry society of widows. Then they entered Lady Meriwether’s carriage and left.”
“They went to her house?” Christian asked.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Christian eased his large body against the sofa facing the solicitor. Morgan brought forward a small tray with brandy and glasses and poured two. He handed one to the solicitor, then the other to Christian. After the day Mr. Hanes must have experienced, it wasn’t at all surprising he finished his glass in one swallow.
He didn’t partake, but Mr. Hanes wiped his lips and gestured for another. Morgan lifted his brows but, without a word, poured the man another.
The image of Katherine’s face after Christian had inadvertently hurt her feelings over the amount of her dowry still haunted him. Nor could he conceive how she had married his scandalous half brother. The woman had an assuredness about her that was in direct contrast to Meri’s flightiness.
Perhaps it was true that opposites attracted.
Christian placed the glass on the side table, then leaning forward, rested his elbows on his knees as he devoted his full attention to Mr. Hanes. “Have you found out any more information?”
The solicitor ran a hand down his face. “Not yet, Your Grace. Your brother sent information about each wife to three different clerks at my office. I’ve posted letters to each parish, seeking information about their marriages. The only one I’ll have soon is Lady Meriwether’s since she married in London. With what the other women have claimed, it appears that Miss Constance Lysander and Miss Beth Howell were married to Lord Meriwether after Miss Katherine Greer.”