strangers about for my liking.” If Minerva Hepplewhite found employment here, so she could spy, others might have too. Chase regretted he had not thought to bring in a few extra eyes himself.
He pictured her building those fires, unseen by the chamber’s occupants. Listening. “It might have been wiser to refuse to host this house party, if it meant so many strangers in the house.”
“Too late for that advice.” Nicholas’s dismissive tone set the topic aside. “Kevin sought me out. He is bitter.”
“They are all bitter. He only has more cause for it than the others.”
“Hell of a thing, for a man to devote his life to something and have his benefactor remove his support upon death. It was uncle’s to do with as he chose, but some of it is damned unjust.”
Chase wondered if Nicholas included himself in the unjust part. When a man inherits a title he expects the estate to provide the income required to maintain the position. Nicholas would probably manage, but he would be gritting his teeth over the finances for years to come.
“You, for example,” Nicholas said. “He liked you more than he did most of us. You indulged his whims and peculiarities. You spent time with him, whether on his expensive pastimes or riding with him. To cut you off without so much as a farthing . . . He defended you when you sold out your commission and others were saying—” Nicholas ceased talking like a man who had said too much.
“He told me there would be nothing.”
“So you said. Still—”
Still. Had he thought in the end Uncle Frederick would drop a sentence into his will and surprise his favorite nephew? Had he hoped for it? Any man would. Yet, he knew in his heart it would not happen. The duke had many strange ideas, and some sound ones, and both kinds played a role in that will.
You will have to make your own way now. That was what he had said when Chase came back to England and left the army. Not such a bad thing. Men get lazy when life is too easy. Good minds go slack and good bodies get fat. Nine out of ten men in the ton have achieved nothing but the pursuit of pleasure. The world won’t stand for it much longer. France showed us that.
He doubted Nicholas or Kevin could comprehend how Uncle Frederick thought making life harder for his nephews would be a valuable bequest.
Nicholas pulled out his pocket watch. “I expect they have all gathered in the drawing room now.” He stood. “I depend on you to guard my back.”
“I will join you soon, to do just that. First I need to speak to someone.” Chase led the way to the door. “And in the future, do not talk freely in front of any of the servants.”
* * *
The man was following her. Minerva noticed the young gentleman strolling about the house, using the same path that she did. Although her duties with the fires were finished, she still carried her basket while she took the very long way back to the kitchen.
His presence interfered with her plan to learn the lay of the entire house, and who used which chamber. She had even entered some vacant ones and built fires to see if he would move on, but each time she moved on herself, there he was.
She went down to the library. No one had told her to build fires here, and on entering she saw why. The large fireplace already blazed, enough that the chamber had grown too warm. She set down her basket and lowered the upper sash of two windows, so the heat could escape. She would find out who had been so careless in preparing this room.
She returned to the hearth, picked up her basket again, and turned to leave. There he was suddenly, blocking her path to the door.
He looked her over, head to toe. He couldn’t be much older than Jeremy, but she hoped Jeremy never examined a woman with such a wolfish gleam in his eyes. His slow smile made bells of warning sound in her head. He was a family member, she assumed. She could see a resemblance to Chase Radnor in him, buried in the youthful softness that still marked his face.
“You’ve a wandering way about you.” His tone made it more an observation than an accusation. She could do without either.