from the chair.
After the twins had left, Rhys glanced at Helen with a slight smile. “Has she always made up words?”
“For as long as I can remember,” she replied. “She likes to try to express things like ‘the sadness of a rainy afternoon’ or ‘the annoyance of finding a new hole in one’s stocking.’ But now she’s trying to break herself of the habit, fearing that it might expose her to ridicule during the Season.”
“It would,” Kathleen said regretfully. “Vicious tongues are always wagging, and high-spirited girls like Pandora and Cassandra rarely have an easy time of it during the Season. Lady Berwick was forever scolding me for laughing too loudly in public.”
Devon regarded his wife with a caressing gaze. “I would have found that charming.”
She grinned at him. “Yes, but you never took part in the Season. You and West were elsewhere in London, doing whatever rakes do.”
Rhys went to the sideboard to pour a cognac for himself. Glancing at Devon, he asked, “Will Lady Helen and the twins stay at the estate while you and Lady Trenear are in Ireland?”
“That would be for the best,” Devon said. “We’ve asked Lady Berwick to chaperone them during our absence.”
“It would raise eyebrows otherwise,” Kathleen explained. “Even though we all know West is like a brother to Helen and the twins, he’s still a bachelor with a wicked reputation.”
“Which I worked hard to acquire, by God.” West went to lounge in a chair by the hearth. “In fact, I insist on a chaperone: I can’t have my bad name tarnished by the suggestion that I could be trusted around three innocent girls.”
“Lady Berwick will be a good influence on the twins,” Kathleen said. “She taught me and her two daughters, Dolly and Bettina, how to conduct ourselves in society, and that was no easy task.”
“We’ll depart for Ireland the day after tomorrow,” Devon said with a slight frown. “God willing, we’ll return soon.”
West stretched his legs before the fire and laced his fingers across his midriff. “I suppose I’ll have to postpone Tom Severin’s visit. I invited him to come to Hampshire in two days’ time, to view the progress on the groundwork for the quarry and railway tracks.”
Rhys spoke in a flat tone that chilled Helen’s nerves. “It would be best to keep Severin far away from me.”
They all looked at him alertly. Rhys stood at the sideboard, his long-fingered hand cupped around the bowl of the cognac glass to warm the amber liquid. Swirling the cognac gently, he stared into its depths with eyes that had turned colder than Helen had ever seen them.
Devon was the first to speak. “What has Severin done now?”
“He’s been trying to convince me to buy a block of property near King’s Cross. But the owner’s name wasn’t listed on any of the documents. Not even the mortgages.”
“How is that possible?” Devon asked.
“A private investment company holds it all in trust. I hired an investigator to find out what’s behind all the elaborate legal papering. He uncovered a transfer agreement, already signed and notarized, that will take effect upon completion of the purchase. The entire price of the property will go to the last man on earth I would ever willingly do business with. And Severin knows it.”
Devon withdrew his arm from around Kathleen and leaned forward, his gaze lit with interest. “Mr. Vance?” he guessed.
Rhys responded with a single nod.
“Damn,” Devon said quietly.
Perplexed, Helen looked from one man to the other.
“You know how Severin is,” West said in the tense silence. “There’s no malice in him. He probably decided that if you found out about it later, it would be water under the bridge.”
Rhys’s eyes flashed dangerously. “If the deal had gone through before I found out that the money would go to Vance, I’d have made certain that Severin’s lifeless body was under the bridge. The friendship is over for good.”
“Who is Mr. Vance?” Helen asked.
No one replied.
Warily Kathleen broke the silence. “He’s Lord Berwick’s nephew, actually. Since the Berwicks never had a son, Mr. Vance is the heir presumptive to the estate. When Lord Berwick passes away, everything will go to Mr. Vance, and Lady Berwick and her daughters will be dependent on his goodwill. So, they’ve always tried to be hospitable to him. I’ve met Mr. Vance on a few occasions.”
“What is your opinion of him?” Devon asked.
Kathleen made a face. “A loathsome man. Petty, cruel, and self-important. Always in debt, but he believes himself to be a financial wizard