Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,75
the way he called it her plan. “If you can find a way for it to work, I’m sure he will accept it.”
“If you wear that red dress again, he probably will.”
* * *
As soon as they returned to the hotel, Kevin procured some paper. When he entered his chamber, Rosamund saw him shedding his coats. He moved two lamps to a small writing table, set out the ink and pen, sat down, and disappeared into numbers. She closed the door because he had forgotten to.
At the dinner hour, she went to his door to see if he had plans to dine below. Just as she knocked, a servant arrived with a meal on a tray. At Kevin’s call, the tray went in, not her.
She had her own dinner in her chamber, then went on her terrace to watch evening claim the city. Finally, she decided to see where all those calculations stood. She didn’t even bother knocking this time.
He didn’t notice. He just sat there in the glow of the lamps, gazing down at a pile of papers covered in scribbles and numbers.
“Does it all fit? Have you found the possible?”
He looked over, surprised, then back at the papers. “I think so. I also think that we can use the agreement I brought with me and add this, like a codicil to a will. It does not change the basic agreement. It only expands it.” He flipped through some pages. “I will have to write it out, of course. That should not take long. A few hours at most.”
“I will see you in the morning, then.”
He didn’t respond. Already his mind was back in the figures.
She returned to her chambers, called for her maid, and asked that a bath be drawn. She needed one, and then a good night’s sleep. She wondered if Kevin had been joking about the red dress. Surely he would want those papers signed tomorrow before evening.
She hoped Mr. Forestier did not balk at anything and accepted the solution they presented. She had enjoyed Paris, but it was time to return to London.
* * *
“Come and see this. Let me know if you would accept the proof regarding when the enterprise is profitable or not.” Kevin waved the paper in Rosamund’s direction. “As a gentleman, I of course assume my word would be enough, but I have devised documentation because he will probably expect some.”
He waved the paper again, more insistently. When it remained in his fingers, he looked over at her.
Only she wasn’t there. Where the devil had she gone?
He carried the paper to the door of his chamber. He wanted her opinion on this. It was critical to the entire plan.
Upon opening his door, he almost walked into a servant carrying two large pails of water. Three other men followed him. All of them had mastered this task so that no water sloshed out. They filed into Rosamund’s suite, through a door held open by her maid.
What a time to call for a bath. She could be impossible at times, especially regarding the enterprise. Surely Rosamund understood that they had to settle this tonight, and that she might be needed. Especially regarding this particular part. He read the paragraph again, trying to put himself in her mind. If someone presented this to her, would her practical thinking find it sufficient to her interests?
It appeared good enough to him. And yet—
Hell, he didn’t plan to wait all night to start on the final document. He strode to the door, threw it open, marched to hers, and entered.
“M’sieur!” The maid startled and jumped in front of Rosamund. Who was half undressed, as best he could see. Down to chemise and stockings. Her blue eyes peered over the maid’s head. A copper tub stood in front of the fireplace.
“I need you to read this,” he said, ignoring the way the maid rolled her eyes at his intrusion.
“It can wait, can’t it?” Rosamund gestured to the tub.
“No.”
She reached around the maid and took the paper. She bent and held it to the light of the fire. Which made her creamy shoulders visible, and the swell of her breasts and hip.
She straightened. “This is the best we can do. It is generous, because you allow him to have the accounts examined if he thinks we have cheated him.”
“Would you sign it?”
“Me?”
“Yes. If you were he, would it allay your misgivings?”
The maid tsked at the interference, turned, and began taking down Rosamund’s hair. Strand upon strand of blond silk