“I understand, sir. I’ll send a note to her brother and make sure he explains it to her very carefully.”
“Good. Now, for the calendar.”
“Yes. I’ve gotten quite a few invitations that need responses. The first is the Historical Preservation Society. They are having a gala the night of the sixteenth and request your presence.”
“They don’t want me there. Lady Grayson looks at me like I’m something that slithered in from the gutter. They just want my money. Send a note with my regrets along with a check for my yearly donation.”
“Very well.” Martin made a note of it. “There’s also an invitation to Mrs. Carson’s garden party—”
“No.”
“Mr. Darby is having a—”
“No.”
“Lord Masterson—”
“Definitely not.”
“You really should make an effort to socialize more.”
Jason raised his eyebrows at Martin. “What I don’t need is my secretary telling me what I should do.”
“Are you going to say yes to any of these?”
“I don’t know. Give me something interesting, something that will actually benefit me, and I might.” Jason stood up and paced around his office while he listened to Martin rattle off more names of people who had invited him to different affairs. All people who couldn’t stand Jason and simply wanted to benefit from his presence as an influential man. He knew these social games all too well and had tired of playing them more than three years ago.
He moved to the window behind his desk and peered out to the garden below. It had not been tended since he’d moved in and was in disarray. Jason liked it. It had a kind of wild beauty. Besides, hiring a gardener was a waste when he knew he would never go outside to enjoy it.
“Wait,” a name had caught Jason’s ear, and he turned back to Martin, “who was that last one?”
“Lord Conrad, sir. He has given you an open invitation to visit him at his country house.”
“Does it say why? Any special reason?”
Martin quickly scanned the invitation. “Just says he’s interested in talking to you about how business is going.”
“Accept.” Jason sat back down at his desk, rummaging for his notebook. When he looked at Martin, the other man was staring at him with raised eyebrows. “He’s thinking about getting into shipbuilding. He’s been eyeing one of the shipyards on the southern coast for a while now.”
Jason saw the realization dawn on Martin’s face. “And you knew that when you decided to put a mill there.”
The smile came automatically to Jason’s lips. Being good at this was satisfying. “Yes, I did.”
“That’s a pretty big gamble. He still might not move forward.”
Jason shrugged. “Even if he doesn’t, it was a good move. If he does, though, he’ll likely become our biggest buyer. Lord Conrad doesn’t do anything half-heartedly.”
“No, he doesn’t. When should I say you can arrive?”
“I’m scheduled to inspect the northern mill soon, correct?”
Martin glanced at his calendar to confirm. “Yes, you are.”
“Write to him, and let him know that I will be there the day before.”
“It’s not exactly on the way.”
“No, but it will save us a trip. We can rely on his hospitality to stay the night and be to the mill in time for lunch.”
“Are you sure you only want to stay for a day? The invitation is open.”
“A day is all it will take. Any longer and I’m more likely to mess it up than to get his business. Don’t want to wear out the welcome.”
“I’ll make sure to send your reply today, sir.”
“Good. Is there anything else?” Jason examined the mail on his desk.
“No, sir.” Martin got up and walked to the door. He turned back to Jason. “One last thing. Will you be going to the park today, sir? Sophie wants to know if she should pack a lunch or serve it to you here.”
Jason’s mind had already moved on to an envelope in front of him. “Oh.” He glanced over his shoulder and out the window at the clear blue sky. “Yes, I think I will. Thank you.”
Martin nodded and left. Once the door was shut behind him, Jason looked at the envelope that had taken his attention. Opening it, he leaned back to read the latest news from Renee.
Chapter Four
Jason had seemed fine when Martin left him, but a few hours later, Jason rang for him and told him to inform Sophie he’d be taking lunch in his office. There was no mistaking Jason’s agitated look; he was going to go out drinking tonight.
Sure enough, after dinner Martin saw Jason make his way to the front door. He didn’t want a repeat of the previous night. Flannigan’s was a mess. Martin hated thinking about Jason getting drunk there and loathed having to fetch him when he didn’t make it home at a decent hour. The thought of walking through that slimy bar pushed him to action.
“Sir?” Martin stepped toward Jason, and by the way Jason started, it was clear he had been absorbed in whatever dark thoughts led him to drink so much.
“What is it, Martin?” The words were harsh and short, and Martin knew he could be making their tenuous relationship worse.
“Why don’t you stay in tonight?”
“Because I’m going out. Is there something you actually need, or are you just wasting my time?”
“Please, don’t go back to that bar tonight. It’s not right for a man of your standing to be seen there, and I don’t want to have to come get you again.”
Jason whirled on him. “No one asked you to come and get me last time, Martin. This is none of your business.”
“But why go there? What draw does that place have?”
“I can talk freely there.”
“You can talk freely with me.”
Jason scoffed, and the bitterness in his eyes stung. “There’s no way you could understand. I’m not pouring my heart out to you. You’re a business associate, nothing more. Stop trying to be anything else.”
“All I’ve ever wanted is to be your friend. You could sure use one.”
There was a flash of sadness in Jason’s eyes that would have been easy to miss had Martin not been so used to seeing it. “You clearly don’t know me very well.”
“I know you better than you think, and I’m always here if you want to talk.”
“No, you don’t know any of the pertinent details, Martin, and I’m not going to burden you with it.”
There it was: his opening. Every once in a while, Jason let down his guard, and Martin could see just how much his employer cared about the people around him. “Fine. But please don’t burden me with having to go get you tonight. You know it will just be a repeat of last night, and it’s supposed to rain.” Martin hated bringing up the previous night, but he didn’t like seeing what that place did to Jason. Hopefully the lie about the weather would hold. If Jason was feeling ashamed enough, he would let it stand.
“Fine. I’ll stay here and drink in my study.” Jason turned without even looking at Martin and headed to the second floor. Martin sighed. It was better than the alternative, but not by much.
Heading down to the kitchen, he peeked into the parlor to see if it was clean. He walked to the fireplace and ran his finger along the intricately carved cherubs flanking the rosewood mantle. It came away dusty, and Martin grimaced. The first floor was rarely used—made up as it was of only formal rooms meant for entertaining. Still, it should be kept clean. There was no telling when it might be needed. A similar inspection of the rest of the floor resulted in the same. No large messes, but a general coating of dust.
“Sophie, do you need any help in here?” From the kitchen doorway, Martin could see their cook-cum-housekeeper was covered in flour, preparing bread dough for the morning.
Sophie blew a stray strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. “Aye, I can always use a hand or two.”
Rolling up his sleeves, Martin came to stand next to her and sunk his hands into t
he lump of dough that Sophie lobbed in front of him. “The dust is starting to build up on the first floor again.”
Sophie turned her rich brown eyes on him, and Martin wished he had kept his mouth shut. Sophie may have been a small woman, but she could make a man cower when she had a mind to. “Well, I’m sorry, your highness, but most houses don’t rely on one woman to do all the cooking and cleaning. You can have dust in the parlor, or you can have starched clothes and warm meals. You can’t have it all. I’ll get around to it when I get around to it.”
Martin held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right, Sophie. I’m sorry. I should be a better help to you.”
“I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Sophie turned back to the dough, and Martin followed suit. “I know you have your hands full. What is Mr. Wadsworth up to tonight?”
“Drinking in his study.”
“Dear gods, I didn’t realize he was that bad off.”
“I’m just glad I won’t have to go fetch him from that disgusting bar.”
“I’m not sure the study is much better. It must drive you crazy thinking of all the dust that has to be in that room.” Sophie laughed, and Martin let himself smile at her attempt at humor. There was certainly nothing funny about Jason’s study. It could more aptly be named the drinking room.
“No, oddly it doesn’t bother me that much. Probably because I’ve never seen it.” Martin shrugged and went back to kneading.
“Well then, can you not look in the rooms we don’t use and forget about them too?” Sophie smiled and took his ball of dough, placing it in a bread pan next to hers. “Go pour yourself a cup of tea, and we’ll sit and talk some while these rise.”
Tension Martin hadn’t even known he had left his body as the warmth of the tea spread. When Jason got in these depressions, it was always stressful.
“Don’t worry, it never lasts long.” Sophie sat opposite him with her own cup of tea. Her girlish features were framed by a few loose strands of blonde hair. She was the only woman his own age he associated with. If she had been born to his class, he might have seen himself marrying her. Then again, she was a foreigner.
“How’d you know what I was thinking?” Sometimes Martin felt as if she was the only person who understood him.
“You always get tense when he’s like this.”
“I just wish I could help him.”
“You can’t help someone who doesn’t want it.” Sophie took a sip.
Martin tried to take comfort in the tea, but his mind raced. “I guess it would be easier if I had any idea what gets him like this.”
“That man is holding on to more secrets than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Martin considered that while he drank. “It’s something to do with his wife. Only it’s strange that he can seem so friendly toward her if she’s the force behind his depression.”
“Stop trying to figure it out. He’ll either tell you or he won’t; there’s no sense worrying about it.”
“Oh, and is that why you were kneading more dough than we’ll need for a week when I walked in?” Martin smiled as Sophie’s face reddened.
“Well, I worry about him too.” Sophie hid her face behind her tea cup until the blush passed. “How was it getting him home last night?”
“A struggle. You were asleep by the time we got back.”
“You going to stay up and help him to his room when he’s done?”
“No, I’ll just stay here with my tea until I’m tired. If I hear him stumbling about, I’ll help him up.” They both knew it was a lie, but Sophie was kind enough not to comment. Martin always helped once Jason tumbled out of the study, locking it behind him. Martin knew everything about this house except what was in that room. That didn’t bother him nearly so badly as not knowing what went on in Jason’s mind.
Sophie washed her cup and put it away. Then she came back over and placed a hand too rough for her young age on his shoulder. “Try not to let it bother you. It’ll be better tomorrow.”
And that was part of the problem. Tomorrow, Jason would go back to acting like nothing was wrong.
Chapter Five
“I need you to take dictation.”
Martin situated himself with his pen and paper. “I’m ready, sir.”
Jason nodded. Last night in the study had felt good. It was a special torment for him, drinking alone in that room. It was where all his demons came out to play, and now they were safely tucked away for the day. There was no chance they would interrupt him in his work. If they began to hammer at him, he knew he could at least put them off until night.
“My dearest Renee.” Jason smiled and began to walk around the office when Martin looked briefly up at him. He knew Martin thought Renee was the source of his late night drinking sessions. The man had been trying to put it all together for years. If he were to look in the study, though, he wouldn’t find a trace of Renee there. “It was sweet of you to remember me on the anniversary of our engagement. You’re a dear for worrying about me, but I assure you I am fine. The business is running better than even I could have hoped for. It’s going to be an excellent year.
“It sounds as if your time at the coast has been delightful. How fortunate that you were able to find a guide to show you the ruins. I’m sure you’ve been busy reading up on their history.” This was one of the best parts of Jason’s existence. With everything he’d been through, at least he hadn’t ruined Renee’s life. She was free to live out her dreams, and he took some joy in that thought.
Martin cleared his throat, indicating that he had caught up, and Jason continued. “Of course you may use the country house in Timar. Someone should, it’s beautiful. I’ll telephone the butler so it’s prepared for your arrival.”
“Will you be joining her there, sir?”
Jason gave him a baleful stare. “No.” Why Martin insisted on asking questions he knew the answers to in an effort to annoy him, he would never know.
“It might do you some good to spend some time with Mrs. Wadsworth.”
“Don’t confuse the value I place on your penmanship with value as a confidant.” Jason saw the pain flash in Martin’s eyes. He didn’t like hurting the man. He knew Martin ached to be a trusted advisor, but it was better for everyone if they weren’t close.
“Now, back to the letter.” Jason resumed his pacing. “I hope you enjoy your summer. I shall be busy with the business, but it is work I enjoy. I look forward to your next letter, no doubt detailing some of your adventures in Timar. Until then, your caring husband.”
“Yes.” Martin finished writing and looked over at Jason. “I’ll have this sent out today.”
Jason crossed back to his desk and took his seat. “What other business do we have today?”
“We have to discuss the preparations for the trip to Lord Conrad’s and the mill. I’m trying to get a list of what we’ll need. Which cufflinks will you be wanting to wear to dinner?”
Really? That’s what Martin thought constituted business? “I don’t care.”
“And what about traveling clothes? I think something a little nicer than we were planning for the trip to the mill is in order.”
“Martin, I don’t care.”
“It’s important to make a good impression on Lord Conrad.”
“Lord Conrad couldn’t care less what cufflinks I have on at dinner, and I guarantee you he doesn’t care what I show up wearing.”
“There are certain rules that govern these kinds of social events.”
“Dammit.” Jason slammed his palm on his desk. “I’m not going to socialize, Martin. I’m going to do business. No one wants to socialize with me, and I’ll not go prancing around like a peacock. Pack whatever you want. All I care is that it’s tasteful and appropriate. Lord Conrad wouldn’t have me in his house unless he thought he could benefit from doing business with me. Let’s not pretend this is something it isn’t.”
“All right, I’ll take care of it.”
“Good. Now is there anything else?”
“Fine. Make sure that letter gets out today, and tell Sophie I’ll be going to the park for lunch.”
“Yes, sir.” Martin stood and left.
Alone in his office, Jason went to the window. It was another beautiful day. Renee was happy, and that gave him some peace. He would endure the visit to Lord Conrad’s because it was his duty. Besides, he was good at this. Ever since he had stopped concerning himself with the silly social games the aristocracy played, he had begun to view them from a distance. The perspective gave him an advantage. It was easy to see which moves to make when you didn’t care about the outcome, and Jason had stopped caring a long time ago.
Chapter Six
The sweet taste of the wine barely registered. Jason wanted the bitter fire of something stronger, but he’d have to wait until after dinner. Lord Conrad had invited some friends and associates to join them for the evening. It was a courtesy Jason could have done without. No business could be discussed during dinner, and the other guests meant it would take longer to get through the meal and conversation.
When Lady Conrad was done speaking, he laughed automatically with the others. “That’s quite the story, Lady Conrad.”
“And it’s all true!” Lord Conrad said from the end of the table, leading to another chorus of chuckles.
“This wine is excellent. Wherever did you get it?” Jason took another sip.
“This comes from our very own winery. My wife has quite a knack for it. I can’t tell two grapes apart, but she is positively brilliant. Been overseeing the whole operation for the last twenty-some years.” Of course, Jason already knew this, but the flattered, sheepish smile on Lady Conrad’s face had been his goal.
“That’s extraordinary, Lady Conrad. I propose a toast to our resident vintner and connoisseur.” The rest of the table raised their glasses, and when Jason met Lady Conrad’s eyes, he could see his work was done. She saw him as the consummate guest and would no doubt be talking about the charming Mr. Wadsworth for some time.
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