A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,9
reluctantly took it. She stood, and before Christian could release her, she stuffed her silk handkerchief in his hand.
“A token of appreciation, Your Grace.” She smiled demurely and proceeded on her way.
Reed looked at her retreating figure, then gazed at Christian. “Does that happen often?”
“More than you can imagine.” He shook his head at the interruption. “Let’s discuss more important matters. Did you find employment?”
“No, sir. The cabinet maker I worked for hired a replacement after I left. He doesn’t have any extra work. I’ve even visited every other cabinet shop around.” Reed studied the ground and shuffled one foot. “No one is hiring.”
Christian’s stomach twisted at the news. Reed was a hard worker. When he hadn’t been roaming the French countryside, he’d generously offered to repair the men’s boots at camp in his spare time.
Unfortunately, this is what most of the brave soldiers came home to.
Nothing.
“Where are you staying?”
“Well … here and there.” Reed let out a ragged breath.
Which meant he was sleeping on the streets.
Christian ground his teeth together. His men sacrificed their lives and livelihoods to protect the country with no repayment or appreciation. “You can work for me. Lodging included.”
“Captain, are you sure?” Reed wiped the grime from his face across his sleeve.
The hope in his voice doused Christian’s earlier anger at the man’s circumstances. “It’d be my pleasure. I could use a good man like you.”
“This is all I have to wear,” the man said sheepishly. “Nowhere near fancy enough for your home.”
“Remember Morgan, my batman?”
“Yes, sir. Fine man.”
“He’s my valet now. He’ll find you something that you’ll be comfortable in.” He pointed to his coach. “Ask for Iverson and tell him I sent you. I have an errand here, then we’ll be off.”
“Yes, sir.” Reed stood at attention and saluted, then sprinted off to the carriage.
The tightness in Christian’s chest loosened somewhat. He still had to face Meri’s wives. If only finding a solution for them was as easy as it had been for Reed. Without delay, he went to the solicitor’s door and entered.
The bell above the door chimed his arrival. One of Mr. Hanes’s clerks peeked around a door, then quickly walked toward Christian.
“Your Grace.” The young man stopped and bowed. “Did you forget something?”
His mind. Christian shook his head. “Is Mr. Hanes available?” He pulled off his gloves then tucked his hat under his arm.
“I’m afraid not, sir. He left for an appointment.” With a pencil stuck behind one ear, the young man stood with his hands clasped in front of him.
Christian lowered his voice. “Is my half brother’s wife here?”
“No, sir. And neither are the other wives.”
“Do you know where they went?”
The clerk shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
Meri’s antics were becoming even more complicated. “Will you have Hanes call on me when he returns? I need to find those ladies.”
“Of course, Your Grace. You should know all the wives departed together. That might make it easier to find them.”
“As in, they left at the same time?” Christian asked.
“As in, they all left in the same carriage at the same time,” the clerk answered.
Christian held himself still, unwilling to express his shock at the news. Finally, he took his leave with a nod.
Once he found where they’d gone, he’d send a note asking to call upon them. As he crossed the street to his carriage, a cold knot of dread blossomed within his chest.
Why did it suddenly feel as if he were about to face a firing squad?
* * *
Christian’s valet, Jacob Morgan, pulled two silk cravats from the wardrobe. Though two years younger than Christian, the twenty-eight-year-old Morgan possessed the demeanor of a man almost twice his age. He’d been by Christian’s side every single day while Christian had served as captain in one of the regiment’s companies. After three years, Christian had decided the army could do without him, but he’d also decided he couldn’t do without Morgan and brought him home as his valet. Lucky for Christian, Morgan had readily agreed to accept the post.
With care, Morgan adjusted the patch over his left eye. With his tanned features and long blond hair, Morgan resembled a pirate until one saw the exquisite cut of his morning coat. There wasn’t a brigand alive who could imitate Morgan’s impeccable tastes and elegant style. Thankfully, he relished the opportunity to make Christian appear the part of the perfect duke.
“Is your eye bothering you?” Christian finished buttoning his black brocade waistcoat.
“No, Captain.” A painful grin creased his lips. “Maybe. Truthfully, it’s an