Noble Scoundrel - Amy Sandas Page 0,35
I do. Frederick is not a typical child. His genius started to show at a very young age and has continued to mature and progress. His cleverness is matched only by his compassion. My brother is destined for great things. It is generally best not to underestimate him.”
Hale eyed her with a slightly dubious expression. “How much can the boy understand of a world he rarely sees?”
Katherine stiffened at the subtle censure in his words. “Our lives have been rather unconventional, I’ll admit. For various reasons, such an existence suited us quite well. But it has become obvious since coming to London that a broader wealth of experience would be of great value to my brother.” She pinned him with a poignant stare. “Which brings us back to your purpose. Keep him safe until we can eliminate the threat against him. All I want is for him to have every opportunity to reach his greatest potential.”
The corner of his mouth twisted upward. “And I’ve a feeling you tend to get what you want.”
She narrowed her gaze, wondering if he was criticizing again. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t. Within reason.”
He chuckled. “Of course. Cannot abandon reason.”
Feeling uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken, she shifted back to her brother. “Frederick has the ability to retain everything he reads, sees, or hears, down to the most specific detail. If you wish to know more about either of the previous attacks in order to better guard against future attempts, I’m sure he could provide you with a wealth of helpful information. You’re welcome to take your meals with the senior staff or have them brought to you room, whichever you prefer, just notify our housekeeper Mrs. Wallace of your choice. Frederick can apprise you of his personal routine. For now, I doubt we’ll be leaving the house much unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”
“Voluntary captivity?”
“Until I know more about the threat, it’s the best way to keep him safe.”
His response to that was a short grunt, suggesting he didn’t agree.
She ignored him. It wasn’t required that he agree, just that he do his job.
“I’ll need a tour of the house and a list of the staff. Tonight.”
Hale rose to his feet as he spoke and Katherine stood as well. “Is that necessary?”
He arched a brow as he looked down at her from his towering height. “Questioning my methods already, dove?”
The man was trying to rile her up by using the too-familiar term, but she had no intention of falling into the obvious trap. “Of course not.”
“Since I can’t be in more than one place at a time, I’ll be needing a few men under my direction. If you can’t spare your current staff, more’ll need to be hired.”
“We’ll work something out,” she replied with a stiff smile.
“I’m also gonna need space for training.” He lifted his brows. “I assume a place like this has a ballroom.”
“It does. Foster will be more than happy to show you around the house and can also provide a staff list for you. We should be able to spare a footman or two for your purposes. You may discuss that issue with Foster, as well, as he is in charge of the male servants.”
It didn’t escape her how quickly he was taking the reins of control. She reminded herself that his competence was a good thing.
As though sensing her discomfort, the man flashed a cocky grin. “Too late for regrets now, dove.”
Tipping her head, she met his gaze square and steady. “I may not trust you as implicitly as Frederick, Mr. Hale, but I’d never have placed my brother’s life in your hands if I didn’t know with full certainty that you’d do the job and do it well.”
It was true. Her misgivings in regard to the man were entirely personal in nature and had nothing to do with his role as bodyguard.
When his eyes darkened at her words, triggering another of those internal flutters, she quickly looked away. “I’ll ring for Foster.”
Chapter Twelve
The next day, Mason met with all the household footmen in the ballroom. There were five in total. He didn’t know much about the ways of the wealthy, but he’d worked the door at enough bawdy houses in his younger years to figure out that the Blackwells did not keep nearly as much staff as they could.
The five men in front of him ranged in age from seventeen to late twenties. Every one of them was tall, as was customary for footmen, but their