cloud of vanilla and grinned. Everything was perfect.
His arrangements so far had gone very well. Most importantly, he had purchased a cart and found servants to fetch provisions and necessaries for the cottage. Getting some suitable furniture would have to wait, but food, wine, every delicacy he could lay his hands upon would be showered down upon Kat’s dwelling as soon as it could be contrived. She might not accept money, but she could not decline the food. Even if she were not too hungry to refuse, which she must be, he could always appeal to her pride by telling her that she could not expect him to stay there with nothing to eat. That was if she did not send him packing immediately and bolt the door behind him. She thought him such a scoundrel.
He sighed and dismissed the doubtful thoughts. He would remain optimistic. It was the only way to be. God had handed him a second chance and he was not going to lose her all over again. Marie was no longer in his life and he had faith that given some time, Kat could forgive his making such a hash of things and grow to love him again.
His heart soared, and he beamed so brilliantly as he exchanged greetings with the banker, that the man gave him a quizzical look. “Is your grace quite well?”
“Yes, I am very well, thank you, Mr. Pendle. I am terribly grateful to you for meeting with me at this unusual hour.”
“Not at all, your grace. It is my great honour. How may I be of service?”
They seated themselves and accepted wine from the servant.
“I will come straight to the point. I was recently held up by highwaymen who shot my servants and made off with my strong box. No, no! Please do not be alarmed. I am quite well. I escaped with what money was about my person and had enough to hire a few servants and such, but, as you may imagine, I shall need to set up an account to draw upon while I am here. If you have any concerns, you may enquire for references with the Duke of Bartholmer, to whose estate I was travelling when my carriage was attacked.”
The banker emitted a shudder that proclaimed his discomfort with any suggestion of the sort. “That will not be necessary, your grace. Not at all. Though I would be happy to lend your grace a carriage as conveyance to his grace’s home at Blackwood. I know it is but a humble vehicle, however, I believe having a finer one delivered from London will take some time. I would not wish the Duke of Bartholmer to grow anxious about your grace.”
“Never mind that. I have already sent word to Blackwood. I shall buy a vehicle here. It need not be overly fine. But I have a few matters to attend to before I travel on. For example, I am concerned for the families of the servants I lost in the robbery. They ought to be permitted to have a proper funeral. I assume you have some connections locally that might be called upon to deal with such matters?”
“Certainly. Leave it in my hands, your grace.”
“Thank you. You may pay for the expenses out of my account. I have sent a messenger with a fast horse to my man of business in London, Mr. Sumner. He should arrive within a few days to provide more detailed instructions, and to make a deposit with your excellent bank. I trust that will be amenable.”
“Very satisfactory. Only your grace should not be inconvenienced by such trifles. I will happily await the transfer from whatever London account is convenient.”
“Quite unnecessary, I assure you. Now there is another matter that more particularly requires your expertise.”
The banker leaned forward. “How may I be of service?”
“There is a property near here, rented by a poor widow. She saved my life, and I should like to reward her by paying her rent. However, I do not know how to contact the agent, or what the property is called.”
“Do you recall the location, your grace?”
“It is an hour’s ride southeast of here.”
“Ah yes. I think you must be speaking of old Mr. Burns’ plot. He banks here, as does the agent, Mr. Atherton.”
Foxleigh scowled. “I had occasion to see Mr. Atherton while I was at the property. I confess I did not like the look of him.”
The banker tilted his head. “Far be it from me to speak