began cautiously, not wanting to contradict the man trying to hire him. ‘In my experience, the less the family is involved with these matters, the quicker they are handled.’
‘I did not claim it would be easy,’ Leggett reminded him. And there was that smug smile again, as if it gave him pleasure to see another man suffer what he had endured at the delicate hands of the Strickland sisters and their dotty grandmother. ‘I will give you double your usual fee, since, if I am honest, I have brought you two problems, not one.’
More money on the table before he’d even opened his mouth to ask for it. Gregory already knew he could find the missing heirlooms. How hard could it be to prevent a marriage that was unlikely to occur, even without his intervention?
He looked at Leggett’s smile and hesitated a moment longer.
‘Triple, then. I am eager to depart for the Continent and wish to be sure that the matter will be settled to my satisfaction.’
The offer was too good to refuse, even if he’d wanted to. ‘Consider it done.’
‘Thank you. Miss Hope Strickland, Miss Charity and the Dowager are in London for the Season at the Comstock town house in Harley Street. I will tell them to expect your visit.’
‘Very good.’ There was likely to be nothing good about it. Other than the pay, of course. That was enough to reinforce the smile Gregory gave his new employer.
‘And I trust this matter will stay between us?’ Leggett said, in the slightly embarrassed tone of someone not used to admitting he had difficulties, much less asking for help with them.
‘I shall be the soul of discretion,’ Gregory replied. When one made one’s living mopping up after the gentry, keeping secrets was part of the job description.
‘Good evening, my lord.’ Hope Strickland stood in front of a mirror in the hall of the Comstock town house, examining her smile for traces of insincerity before deciding that it was as near to perfect as she could manage.
Then, she curtsied, analysing the results. She was not inexperienced with the niceties due a peer, but that did not mean she should not practise. First impressions were the most important ones. There could be no flaw in hers.
Not that it was likely to matter. The odds of success were almost nil. But if there was any chance at all to impress the next Earl of Comstock, she meant to try.
Now that Faith had married, Hope was left as oldest. It was her job to carry on as best she could and take care of the family that remained. It was clear, from their scattershot behaviour, that Charity and Grandmama needed all the help they could get.
She dipped again. The bend in her knees was not quite deep enough and her eyes could not seem to hold the fine line between deference and flirtation.
‘Are you still at that?’ Charity was standing in the doorway, arms folded in disapproval.
‘It pays to be prepared,’ Hope replied, straightening the curl on the left side of her face that could never seem to follow its mates into a proper coiffure.
‘Prepared to bow and scrape for the stranger coming to take our house out from under us?’ Charity said.
Hope bit back the urge to announce that it was her sister who needed to mind her manners. Instead, she said, ‘It is his house. We are but guests in it.’
‘Family, you mean,’ Charity responded.
‘It would be nice to think so.’ Hope turned away from the mirror to face Charity. ‘I prefer to take a more realistic view of the situation. Though we share a surname, he has never met us before. He will not think of us as family unless we work hard to make him do so. When he arrives, we should greet him with warm welcomes and friendly smiles.’
‘You don’t wish to befriend him. You want to marry him. What are your plans if that does not happen? If you mean to be prepared, it should be against all eventualities.’ Charity was far too logical for her own good. But that was no surprise. It had always been her nature to find the weakness in any plan and jab mercilessly at it until her opponent relented.
‘If the Earl is not impressed with me, we shall have to make decent matches while we are in town. Then we will set up our own households and not concern ourselves with him or his property.’ She put a subtle emphasis on the word we, hoping that her sister would acknowledge the seriousness of the situation and do her share to fix it. Hope had no real fear of failure for herself. But they had always known that things would not be as easy for Charity. And as she usually did, Charity was making matters worse with her refusal to even look for a husband.
‘We must also thank Mr Leggett for his generosity in making a Season possible,’ Hope added. She touched her skirt to remind her sister of the elegant wardrobes they’d purchased since coming to town. Before their sister had married, it had felt as if they’d been trimming, re-trimming and altering the same tired gowns for ages. But now, everything in their cupboards was fresh and new.
But you could not tell it from looking at Charity, who was wearing a gown that was two years old and could best be described as serviceable. It had done well enough for hiding in the manor library, but it was totally wrong for London. Her sister had noticed her silent criticism and responded, ‘There will be time for me to play dress up later. Right now, I have other plans.’
Hope gave her a firm but encouraging smile. ‘Of course you do. But it will be rather hard to carry them out while rusticating in the country.’
‘For you, perhaps. I was doing quite well right where I was. The sooner you allow me to return to Berkshire the easier it will be on all of us.’ While Hope had jumped at the chance to come to town, Charity had done nothing but complain since the moment they’d arrived.
‘You speak of my need for alternate plans,’ Hope said, smiling to hide her frustration. ‘Do you have any of your own? When the Earl arrives, you cannot simply dig in your heels and refuse to vacate the manor. If he asks you to go, you will have to leave.’
Charity smiled. ‘I do not need a second plan. The first one is near to fruition and I will be long gone before he ever sets foot in the house. If you would only allow me to return to the country...’
And there it was, again. The solution her little sister was continually hinting at, but refused to reveal. It did not sound as though she meant to reason with the new owner—as if there was a man on the planet who wished to be reasoned with by a girl just out of the schoolroom. But if not that, then what could it be? ‘This plan of yours...’ Hope hinted. ‘I assume it does not include marriage? Because to achieve that, you might consider accepting some of the invitations you receive.’
Then, a worrisome thought struck her. ‘Promise me you do not mean to dishonour yourself. We are not as desperate for money as all that.’
Charity laughed harshly. ‘My dear sister, you may lie to yourself about your own future, but please do not lie about mine. She stepped forward and took Hope by the shoulders, turning her so they stood reflected, side by side in the mirror. ‘No man will have me for a mistress. I am not pretty enough. I fully intend to marry, when the time is right. But it will take more than a new gown and a perfect curtsy for me to catch a husband. I will need
