don’t know what she expects me to do. It’s not as if I have any influence over Percy and I refuse to buy him off. I’ll never be rid of him if I do.’
‘That’s true. The only thing that would convince Percy would be cold hard gold or a wealthier heiress.’
Adam turned back towards Nicholas, his eyes narrowing. ‘You’re probably right,’ he said slowly.
‘I mistrust that look, Adam. Last time I saw it we almost ended up in an Indian jail.’
Adam laughed, his intent expression lightening.
‘Don’t complain. That look, as you call it, earned you a nice fortune.’
‘And I’m grateful. I just don’t want to see you get into any trouble.’
‘What possible trouble can I get into in Mowbray?’
Nicholas raised one brow quizzically. ‘Wasn’t the reason you had to leave England because of the trouble you got into in Mowbray? What if you fall back in love with the beautiful Rowena when you meet her again?’
‘Back in lust, you mean.’
Nicholas shook his head.
‘I don’t know how you became so cynical, Adam. You’re worse than I am.’
‘That bad? Miss Drake attributes it to Rowena taking the man out of me.’
Nicholas’s eyes opened wide. ‘She didn’t say that!’
‘She did. Straight for the jugular, or rather, below the belt. To be fair, she apologised.’
‘Well, that’s all right, then. My goodness, I wouldn’t mind meeting this peculiarity up close. So you’re really going to stay here for a while?’
Adam shrugged and nudged a crate of crumpled documents with his boot. ‘I have to spend a couple of weeks on the estate anyway. The place is a shambles. Apparently neither Timothy nor Ivor had any idea what they were doing, the poor fools. Someone needs to oversee the workmen getting this mausoleum into shape until Thorpe can take over and I can’t leave all the negotiations with the tenants to him, at least not initially.
‘Besides, I have an idea about Percy which just might provide us some entertainment while I am marooned here. Remember when we met with Derek and Ginnie in London? She said she missed her days on the stage now that she was a respectable wife and mother. Perhaps she might like to spend a few days visiting the famous Mowbray spa in the guise of a wealthy widow. She should have no trouble attracting Percy’s attention.’
Nicholas shook his head ruefully. ‘Ginnie would have no trouble attracting a blind man’s attention. She will love the idea and will no doubt talk Derek into approving it. He never could say no to her. Still, take care what you’re at, Adam,’ he cautioned, but Adam merely smiled.
‘For a rake, you’re a timid old lady sometimes, Nick. If you’re so worried, you can stay and keep an eye on me.’
‘London society is a bit thin during the summer months, so I just might linger for a while. And I’ll try not to cut you out with the beauty.’
Adam pulled on the reins gently and halted the curricle just outside an old Tudor-style building on the High Street where a large sign announcing Milsom’s Bookshop and Circulating Library hung above two large bay windows. This had been one of his favourite places in Mowbray ten years ago and it had not changed at all—the sign was even still very slightly crooked. In fact, it was amazing how little had changed, at least outwardly, in the ten years since he had left.
He handed the reins to Jem, his head groom and the only man amongst his staff whom he trusted with his horses, and jumped out of the curricle. A passing matron with a child hanging on to either hand shot him a look of alarm and hurried ahead, dragging her offspring with her, and Adam sighed. He was beginning to understand what it felt like to be a freak in a travelling fair. Mowbray might not be as large as nearby Oxford, but he would have thought it was large enough to ensure that not everyone had nothing better to do than either stare at him or look uncomfortably away. So far the only people who had treated him as a human being rather than an object of curiosity or a source of possible moral corruption were his servants and tenants, and that had taken a week of cautious interaction. It was as if the whole town had taken a leaf out of his mother’s book and erased all memory of the serious young man who had lived there before the scandal. Now he was merely a caricature of a debauched rake.
He headed into Milsom’s. None of the previous Lord Delacorts had been avid readers and this was one deficiency he wanted to right as soon as possible. He had no intention of spending too much time in Mowbray and he didn’t particularly mind being a social pariah, but if there was no other entertainment to be had while immured in Oxfordshire, he might as well have some good books to read. A bell jangled faintly as he entered and two men on either side of a long counter turned towards him.
‘Adam!’ The younger man straightened abruptly from his lounging position and the ornate silver-rimmed quizzing glass he had been twirling slid from his fingers and hit the counter with a dull thud. He had a boyish face and very pale flaxen hair which demanded all of his valet’s considerable skill to whip into the current au coup de vent fashion of artlessly disordered curls.
‘Lord Delacort,’ said the older man, much more pleasantly, and Adam nodded to him first.
‘Good day, Mr Milsom. Hello, Percy. Mr Milsom, I was hoping you might assist me in purchasing some books. I brought a list...’ He produced the folded list and handed it to the older man, who spread it out on the counter, his eyes brightening as he scanned its length.
‘Yes, indeed...’ he murmured absently, nodding to himself. ‘We have some volumes here, but most I will have to request from London, My Lord.’
‘I understand. There is no hurry, Mr Milsom. Whatever you can provide me with today, I would be grateful.’
‘Of course, My Lord. Right way, My Lord.’ Without a glance at Percy he turned and disappeared into a back room, leaving the cousins together.
Percy’s gaze flickered towards the door and then back to Adam; he raised his quizzing glass and viewed Adam’s riding clothes and caped greatcoat with a slightly derisive twist to his generous mouth.
‘You know, Adam, you really should have Libbet give your valet some advice on tailoring now that you’re settled. Stultz, my fellow. I can see you favour Weston and I can’t fault his fabrics and his stitching, but really, that coat is quite commonplace.’
Adam surveyed Percy’s nipped-waist coat, pale primrose-coloured pantaloons, the carefully arranged cravat secured with a ruby pin and the uncomfortably high shirt points. But the most impressive article of clothing was a waistcoat elaborately embroidered with what looked like tulips and long-tailed parrots, shot through with silver and gold thread.
‘Stultz, you say? I don’t think I could quite carry it off with the same panache as you, Percy. Did I pay for that pin or was it poor Ivor?’
Percy’s hand rose towards the gleaming jewel, then dropped. He straightened, pushing away from the counter.
‘It’s
