on it, as he planned, he may arrive at any time.’
‘We are not at fault for a war on the other side of the world, or the doings of the Royal Navy,’ Hope said, feeling her vision of the future crumbling like a sandcastle at high tide.
‘But there is still the matter of the missing entail,’ Mr Drake replied, speaking slowly, as if to a child. ‘It is best that we make sure he has no other reasons to be unhappy with you. Give me a day to examine your list in detail. If it is convenient, I will call for you tomorrow at ten and we will begin the process of making things right.’
She wanted to argue that it was not convenient at all. He could take the list and go to perdition for all she cared. They were doomed. All doomed. What good would it do her to start a search that she was sure they could never finish?
But Mr Leggett must have chosen this fellow for his skills in retrieval. Perhaps he could find a way to make things marginally better. If he needed her help, then surely her help was required. The sooner it was begun, the sooner it would be over. And she could not depend on rough winter crossings to delay the Earl indefinitely. The house needed to be in something approaching order when he arrived at it. She forced another smile for Mr Drake. ‘If this is to be settled, I do not see that I have any choice in the matter. I will accompany you as long as certain conditions are met.’
‘And they are?’ he said, with an expectant tip of his head.
‘For the sake of modesty, I will remain veiled in your presence. We will speak no more than is necessary and under no circumstances will you call me by name while in the presence of others.’
If he was insulted there was no sign of it. His smile was as distant and unwavering as ever. ‘Of course, Miss Strickland.’
‘Then I will expect you at ten o’clock tomorrow.’
‘Until then.’ He offered a bow worthy of a true gentleman, then spoiled it by turning towards the back of the house.
She sighed. ‘You are standing next to a door, Mr Drake. Please, use it.’
‘As you wish, Miss Strickland. He turned and let himself out of the front door and into the street.
Hope moved to the window and watched him walk down Harley Street, sure she could not truly breathe until he was out of sight. Mr Leggett meant well, as did Mr Drake. Even if it did not make things better, their interference could not possibly make things worse. But had it been necessary to tell her about the Earl of Comstock’s antipathy for England? It was almost as if Mr Drake took as much pleasure in seeing her disappointment as she had in his.
‘My, what a charming fellow.’ Grandmother stood behind her, looking out the window at their departing visitor.
‘He was not charming,’ Hope said, wondering if her grandmother had formed her opinion based on the way the man’s coat hugged his shoulders as he walked. ‘And how would you know, either way? You did not speak to him, did you?’
Grandmother peered past her at the retreating figure. ‘Only briefly, when he arrived. He is the fellow James hired to help us with the entail.’
‘You knew.’ Hope could not help her shrill tone at the discovery that, once again, she had been denied important information and left in an awkward situation to fend for herself.
‘Did I forget to mention it?’ She looked at Hope with the widened eyes of one who thought that age and good intentions made up for outright lies. ‘I did not want to trouble you. But when he arrived looking so young and handsome, I assumed the two of you would not want an old chaperon spoiling a perfectly lovely chat.’
Just as she had suspected. ‘You sent a strange man to speak to me without as much as a footman to explain.’ She probably assumed that if she threw the two of them together they would stick like lodestones, just as Faith and James had. ‘I cannot solve our problems by marrying the first person who walks through the door, you know.’
Her normally cheerful grandmother arched a sceptical eyebrow. ‘You are a fine one to say such a thing. That is your plan, is it not? To marry the new Earl?’
‘That is entirely different,’ Hope replied. At least she knew the Earl’s family. Lord only knew what sort of dubious pedigree Mr Drake might have.
‘It is not the worst idea,’ the Dowager admitted. ‘But as I tried to explain to your sister Faith, choosing a husband for financial expediency is never as satisfying as a union based on mutual affection.’ She stared down the street in the direction Mr Drake had disappeared. ‘Or, at least, temporary passion. That fellow was quite handsome, I thought.’
It was annoyingly true. His hair was the colour of winter wheat and, though she’d often thought grey eyes seemed cold, his were warm and inquisitive, especially when paired with that slightly sardonic smile. ‘I did not notice his looks,’ she lied.
‘Are you ill?’ Her grandmother reached out to touch her forehead.
Hope shook off the hand. ‘Merely circumspect. My parents would have thought it most unchristian of me to evaluate a man on appearance alone.’
The older woman gave a disapproving tut. ‘When we encouraged your father to read for the church, we had no idea he would take the whole thing so seriously.’
Both her parents had been more than serious on the subject of morality. They’d been paragons of it, and died together, nursing their village through an epidemic. Then, Hope and her sisters had come to live with their grandparents and a whole new and comparatively decadent world had been opened to them. ‘They would have wanted me to marry sensibly,’ Hope replied. ‘There is nothing sensible about Mr Drake.’
‘A flirtation, then,’ her grandmother suggested, with no thought at all to Hope’s reputation. But then, as she frequently reminded them all, things had been different when she was a girl.
‘Young ladies do not engage in flirtations,’ Hope reminded her. They especially did not do it with employees of their families and she did not think Mr Drake was helping them out of the goodness of his heart.
‘I am not suggesting that you dishonour yourself,’ the Dowager added with a flutter of her lashes. ‘But it would not hurt you to smile when you see a handsome man. It would not ruin you to laugh with him. The world will not end if you let him steal a kiss.’
‘Actually, it might,’ Hope said. ‘Suppose someone learned of it? I would be shunned from polite society and Mr Drake would not be welcome in the homes of the men who employ him.’
The Dowager sighed. ‘Young people nowadays have no spirit at all.’
‘Gentlemen do not marry girls who have too much spirit,’ Hope replied.
‘All the more reason not to marry a gentleman,’ she supplied. ‘Of course, it is possible that the new Earl will not be one. He is American, after all. Lord knows what barbaric habits he has developed.’
‘He is probably married,’ Hope said, glumly. It would be just her luck if he turned out to be a married man who hated the English.
‘Then, perhaps you should look elsewhere. As I reminded you before, Mr Drake is a very handsome man.’
Hope offered a weak smile in response. At times like this, she was never sure if her grandmother was
