sound advice or guidance, leaving Felicity to handle the whole business by herself. Neither accepted by the gentlemen nor understood by the ladies. With no husband or family of her own, Felicity’s life was a solitary existence, but this left her feeling all the more alone. Isolated. Lonely.
Which made her hate the whole business all the more because it robbed Felicity of the happiness she’d gathered in her life. Investments, accounts, demanding partners, and condescending men of business chipped away at her contentment, leaving her dreading every knock at the door that heralded more concerns she’d be forced to sort through alone.
“Thank you, Aunt Imogene. I am certain you are right, of course.” Felicity smiled and squeezed that dear lady’s hands. Then casting her thoughts to another issue at hand, she added, “But there is a matter in which you might assist me.”
Rising to her feet, Felicity crossed back to the writing desk and retrieved one of the letters that had been set aside for further perusal.
“Mr. Lipman’s figures for Farleigh Manor are disconcerting,” said Felicity, scanning the page for the proper section. “I am not as familiar with the requirements of a country estate as you are, so I am uncertain as to whether I am being ridiculous or if there is something more sinister involved.”
Pointing out the part of the letter, Felicity turned it to Aunt Imogene, whose brows rose as she read it.
“As servants are residing there, coals, candles, food, and the like still need to be purchased, but this is more than I would expect,” she murmured, passing her eyes over the passage again. “Not enough to raise significant concerns, but I fear your steward may be derelict in his duties.”
“Or simply dishonest,” said Felicity, her shoulders dropping. “I had feared as much.”
“I would think that any property purchased by my nephew would be more profitable than this,” added Great-Aunt Imogene with a frown. “Its expenditures are less than its income, but not as much as one would wish to see.”
Felicity sighed. “I suppose I can no longer pretend that everything is well with Farleigh Manor.”
Glancing from the letter, Aunt Imogene patted her great-niece’s knee. “Do not despair, my dear. If you would like, I can write to my son and ask his advice on your behalf.”
With a wan smile, Felicity shook her head. “My thanks, but as you said before, I shall sort this out.”
Yet another issue that needed addressing, and though she tried to give all the proper assurances to her aunt, Felicity couldn’t feel them herself. Of course, that was mopey nonsense, for despite the despair of the moment, Felicity knew she would find a solution. She only wished she found some joy in the hunt.
“Perhaps you ought to go for a drive, my dear,” said Aunt Imogene. “I find that some time in the country air does wonders to clear one’s head.”
Felicity bit on her lip, considering the possibility.
“You may take my phaeton. It has been an age since it got any proper use, and it would do both you and it some good.” Aunt Imogene fairly beamed, patting Felicity’s knee once more. “I’ll have the grooms harness Duchess. She’s such a sweet-tempered creature that you’ll hardly have to steer.”
Turning her thoughts to that possibility, a smile crept across Felicity’s face. “I think I may just do that.”
Chapter 13
“I love what you’ve done with this cuff,” said Finch, leaning closer to inspect the tailor’s work.
Mr. Abbott maintained a dignified air, but pleasure gleamed in his eyes at the compliment. “I doubt my skill measures up to the quality you are used to finding in London, sir.”
Holding back a smile at the blatant lure the tailor set out, Finch ignored the comment and turned his attention to the cuff. It was a shame he didn’t have all his tools with him, for seeing the stitches and tucks of fabric made him long to know if he could mimic it. Mr. Abbott had a way of interpreting trends, and though Finch had little interest in chasing after them, the fellow’s work presented a new challenge.
The pair stood together, discussing all the work Mr. Abbott had done since Finch’s last visit. In London, so many of the shops worth visiting were too busy to allow the owners to pass a half-hour chatting about the nuances of their trade, especially with a gentleman who never spent a farthing.
Finch would miss this.
Glancing around the shop, Finch sized up his options. It had been years since he’d worn