Madness

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Madness Page 24

by Sorcha MacMurrough


  Randall got the surprise of his life a couple of days later when a more bold and confident Simon offered to help with the estate’s account books.

  “It’s just that—” He hesitated for a brief moment and then took the plunge. It was the principle of the thing, after all.

  “Well, I didn't mean to pry. It’s just that I was in here checking the stock prices, and the book was open on the desk."

  Randall raised his brows. "Yes?"

  "Well, I couldn’t help but notice that Mr. Ventnor has not been entirely accurate.”

  He frowned slightly. "Oh? Where?"

  Randall looked at the several examples Simon provided him with, and could see what he was saying only with great difficulty, and some degree of dawning horror.

  “Is he cheating me on purpose, do you think?” he asked after a time.

  Simon shrugged. “It’s not for me to say. They’re either really basic errors, in which case he’s not competent, or he’s skimming money off the top for himself, and is therefore a thief.”

  Randall sat down by his side and within half an hour, Simon had identified all the errors made in the last quarter, the rents collected versus the sums entered in the book, and found a considerable number of ‘errors’. And a very large discrepancy indeed.

  Naturally Randall confronted his accountant, who was furious. And cornered.

  Mr. Ventnor instantly turned on Simon and accused him of being an interfering liar. “You already got two other servants the sack. I’m damned if I’m going to be a third.”

  Randall scowled blackly. “You’ve got yourself the sack for trying to cheat me. For taking advantage of my trust. You too came highly recommended, and now I find I’ve been nursing a third viper in my bosom."

  The Earl's eyes narrowed. "In fact, if I didn’t know better I would say someone put you up to this. To have access to my affairs and cause trouble for me, I’ll warrant. All of this is in complete disarray and will have to be redone. Starting from when you first arrived about six months ago."

  "But sir, he's lying, the better to draw you in—"

  Randall completely ignored his sputterings. “I shall not give you any notice, and you can consider yourself paid for all you’ve stolen from me. As for a reference. well, I shall not only not give you one, I shall make it clear that you are not to be trusted by any employer in England. So go back to whoever your masters are, and tell them they can’t trip me up so easily.”

  In the end, Ventnor didn't even bother to deny the accusation. He simply scurried from the room with a last livid look at Simon.

  When he had gone Randall said to Simon, “Thank you. Would it be huge imposition for me to ask you to—”

  “I shall redo them. It will be my pleasure. Have we got any blank ledgers?”

  “Yes but this is going to take weeks,” he sighed.

  Simon shook his head. “If you can make yourself available and have Gabrielle come in here to help match up the files with the books, I shall first ascertain that the books were correct before he started working here, and take it from there.”

  Randall's brows knitted, but then he nodded. “All right, I shall order us some tea and fetch Gabrielle. The children will have to wait for their ride until tomorrow.”

  “So long as they know we wouldn’t let them down if it weren’t urgent.”

  “Quite.” He patted Simon on the back. “I must say, you certainly are a good man.”

  Simon smiled slowly with evident pleasure. “You needn’t sound so surprised.”

  The Earl gave a half-smile. “Not surprised. Envious. I wish I were as good a man as you.”

  Simon shook his head ruefully. “Don’t ever envy me anything, except possibly my lovely wife-to-be.”

  Gabrielle entered a short time later, aflutter at the news that there was a mild emergency.

  Simon kissed her tenderly, and then explained to her what had happened. She immediately began pulling out the supporting files he requested, beaming with pride at her remarkably gifted man.

  He really was a miracle, and each day they spent together made her fall in love with him even more deeply. She sat down next to him, smiled up into his face lovingly, and began.

  By the end of the day Simon presented Randall with a completely new and flawlessly accurate set of books and records. Randall was stunned and pointed to them. He looked at Gabrielle almost accusingly.

  “You never told me. All this time-“

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you would want him to—”

  Simon sensed a tension in the air and decided he would leave the cousins to themselves. He stretched and yawned as he rose from the chair.

  “If you don’t mind sparing me for a half an hour, I think I shall go see the children, and say good night to the little ones.”

  “Of course you may,” Randall agreed readily.

  Simon kissed Gabrielle warmly, then vanished.

  As soon as he had gone she said in a low voice, “I would have told you. The truth is my knowledge of such complicated calculations is fairly limited. I didn’t really know exactly how good he was. It’s like everything else, he’s just, well, dazzling. A genius.

  “I also didn’t want him to overtax himself. I mean, just think about him having been locked away for so many years with nothing to do, no one to speak with.

  "I really wasn’t sure that trying to integrate him fully into the family was the right thing to do. I didn’t know how he was going to take going from complete solitude to living in a house that’s like a coaching depot.”

  Randall acknowledged the legitimacy of her fears. “I take your point. But I think he’s doing admirably.”

  She nodded. “So do I. But we can also never forget that he’s not fully well. He still has nightmares and—”

  “He seems very happy, though.”

  “Yes, yes, he does,” she said with a winsome smile. “We are happy. Thank you.”

  “And the children and my mother adore him. I don’t see the harm in giving him more responsibility.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Well, the only person who can judge what he’s capable of and willing to do is him. I don’t want to be so overprotective of him any longer, really I don't. I know Simon feels keenly what he perceives as my having done so much for him. He actually thinks he’s done nothing to repay me.

  "He doesn’t seem to realise that his love is all I could ever want or hope for. That and perhaps some children of our own one day, though I don’t think either of us are ready for that quite yet.”

  Randall shook his head. “No indeed. You’re most definitely enjoying the best of both worlds. The children to play with during the day, and the ability to sleep straight through the night,” Randall said with an envious laugh. “But then, I can’t recall getting more than a few hours’ sleep ever since I met Isolde anyway.” He winked broadly.

  “I know the feeling,” Gabrielle admitted with a happy laugh.

  Randall drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment, deep in thought. At length he said, “Well, in light of all this, I would say that we need to change some of the timetables on the lessons, then, if he is going to be my accountant as well.”

  “And I need to help him more with the household chores he insists on doing. Making the bed, bringing me breakfast and tea all the time, and so on.”

  “He loves doing those things for you. I’m sure he doesn’t consider them to be chores. Besides, I would hate to drag the two of you out of bed too early in the morning. Not when you’re still on your honeymoon, so to speak.”

  She gave a rueful smile. “Thanks, Cousin, but needs must and all that.”

  Randall shook his head. “The only devil driving the pair of you is you, Gabrielle. You don’t have to try to pay me back out of some misguided notion that you owe me anything.”

  She folded her arms in front of her chest. “Don’t be silly. Of course I do. The three of us owe you everything. There aren’t many people who would take in the sister of the man who tried to
destroy your whole family. Not to mention two insane escapees from Bedlam.”

  Randall slapped his hand down on the desk impatiently. “Now you are never to say that again, do you hear me? Lucinda is not insane. She was subjected to the most cruel horrors at the hands of her husband."

  "I know," she sighed.

  “As for Simon, he was tortured. I can’t even being to guess what happened to him during the war. They are both good people wounded just as much as Michael was physically when he came back from Toulouse.

  "And my brother was mentally wounded as well. Ask Bryony and Blake what he was like those first couple of years. He was lucky to have a good friend who saved him and refused to lock him away. He eventually gained the love of a decent woman. Not to mention friends like Eswara and Ash Paignton, who helped him on the road to recovery even when he didn’t want to get better.

  “The mental scars are the hardest sometimes because they can’t be seen. But Simon is no more mad than you or I. He's a bit eccentric perhaps. But then the English are noted for their eccentricities. Not that he is English either, but you know what I mean.”

  Gabrielle nodded and sighed. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

  “He’s a good man. Anyone who is a decent person will take him just as he is.”

  “Like the children do?”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  Gabrielle rubbed the back of her neck thoughtfully, easing an ache that had suddenly sprung up. “I think we’ll keep him out of the world for a bit longer. Look how much trouble and enmity there was against him with those three servants, and yet he did nothing wrong.”

  Randall waved her concerns away airily. “People resent goodness sometimes. I can never understand why they want to defile and destroy. Like Lucinda’s husband. And besides, I think there was more going on with the tutor and accountant than meets the eye," he said, recalling his past experience with certain government officials determined to make sure nothing changed in England if it meant giving up any of their own power.

  "But only good has come out of it for Simon. I really think he’s starting to emerge from his shell and show his true gifts. That can be no bad thing.”

  “Except if I want to keep him from ever being harmed," she argued. "They’ll find him sooner or later. He’s too unusual even in terms of his handsomeness and height to remain hidden under a bushel forever.”

  Randall didn't even try to tell her that her imagination was running wild. His past run ins with the Home Secretary and Foreign Secretary were enough to make him accept her fears as valid. “so if you really think he is in such danger, isn’t he lucky he’s with the Rakehells, then? All of us are tall and most of us are dark. He doesn't stand out so much here. If no one knew better, they would think we really were related.”

  “Except that he is supposed to be Isolde’s relative, Simon Drake,” she reminded him with a roll of her eyes, “and she’s a red-head like me. But it’s true. When I first met him I wondered who he reminded me of. And he swears he knows Lucinda and I from Dorset, though for the life of me I can’t recall him. Yet I’m afraid to stir up a hornet’s nest by going down there to try to find out.”

  Randall patted her on the shoulder. “Gabrielle, it’s very good of you to try to help him get his life back. However, you might find that you’re all better off not knowing. I don’t want to think ill of him, believe me I don’t. But what if he really does have a terrible family? Or left behind a horrible life? A wife? Children?”

  She felt her heart lurch, and shook her head. “No, he said—”

  He patted her shoulder and pointed out gently, “Men have been known to lie, and maybe not on purpose either, so don’t jump down my throat. I’m just saying, his mind was so scrambled, that there might be a lot of things he just can’t or doesn’t wish to remember.”

  “No, he told me from the start he had never had a permanent relationship with any woman," she insisted. "I believe him. He hated the thought of us having to share such intimate quarters because he thought I would be repelled by him. He really is very bashful in some ways, not at all in others. I don’t think he’s really used to women at all. I mean, he’s not a typical rake or anything.”

  “No, indeed. You’re the only woman he sees as a woman, if you take my meaning. Oh, he’s perfectly polite, correct and charming to everyone, but his eyes are never off you. I tell you, I think Isolde and Bryony are quite envious.”

  She smiled shyly. “It’s what Ash calls being mindful, I think. Not just taking it for granted that you’re in the room together, but that you really are together. Not just the peck on the cheek, but a proper kiss, and being appreciative of one another. Honestly, Simon makes me feel like an absolute goddess just listening to him speak. We may not have much money, but I feel richer than any queen.”

  “You soon will be rich if he keeps up your investment portfolio,” he cousin said with a laugh. “He really is a marvel. Better than Matthew Dane or I could ever hope to be.”

  “It’s the numbers. He just sees patterns and, well….” She shrugged.

  “The funny thing is, he makes it all seem so easy. I heard him with the children the other day. He was creating a game out of it. They were all doing their times tables up to twelve, and some are hardly old enough to even write.”

  She sat back in her chair with a sigh. “Like I said, I don’t know what miracle sent him to me. My terror is that he’s going to be taken away. Or that he’s never going to be happy because he’s lost so much.”

  “Oh no, you must never think that!" Randall said with a shake of his head. "He’s gained so much too.”

  She gave a small frown and twisted her fingers together. “I’m not so sure. His brothers, his family…”

  “He told me his brothers were dead. He has no cause to repine, believe me. Better still, believe him yourself. If you don’t want to listen to me, ask him.”

  She bit her upper lip and asked with serious intent, “What if he misses his old life?”

  “Yes, I really can see how Bedlam night have grown on him,” Randall said dryly.

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes heavenward. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

  He toyed with his paperknife for a moment, and sighed. “Don’t invent problems where none exist. He’s already accomplished more in a few weeks than many men could do in a lifetime. He’s helped make this an even happier home, though before he came I never imagined that would be possible.

  "I don’t ever want you to think for one minute that you both aren’t family. Family are people who really care about each other. There don’t have to be any blood ties.”

  She rested one hand on his broad bicep. “Yes, I suppose. You’ve proven that with the eight children you adopted. And there are you and all the Rakehells, too. You’re all like family.”

  “Exactly. “ He added gently, “We all love you both. We would be delighted if he ever managed to find his family. But we would also be heart-broken if you left, no matter what the circumstances when you first came. Do you understand?”

  “Lucinda too? I mean, I don’t know if she will ever be truly well either.”

  “Of course she's welcome!" he insisted, rising from his chair to pace in front of the window. "I am shocked that you would ever doubt it. She’s coming along well, and is wonderful with the children. The new baby will be a welcome addition, I’m sure. So long as our huge brood aren’t too boisterous with the new arrival, I don’t see any reason why they can’t all be raised together.”

  Gabrielle put her hand to her heart, deeply touched, but also struck with a pang of concern. “Oh, Randall, it’s so generous of you. But you know what Oxnard is like.”

  His mouth drew downwards as though he had tasted something sour. “I do. How she ever married him, I have no idea. Trust me when say I’m consulting with a professional as to the best way to secure a discreet end to that miserable relationship.”

  Gabrielle felt almost suffocated with fear. “But what if Oxnard finds her--”


  Randall stepped over to her side and patted her on the back in an avuncular manner, though not that many years separated them in age. “Don’t worry, I’ve told him not to say anything to anyone, not even his own wife. No one will come looking for her here unless she wants to be found. And this estate is so big and bustling that one woman more or less really makes little difference. I’m not afraid of him.”

  “No, but she is. She's terrified.”

  Randall put his hand in the air as though swearing an oath. “I promise you, we shall be the souls of discretion. I want to see you both happy. In fact, why don’t you take the carriage out tomorrow and have a real day of it in Bath?”

  He swivelled on one heel and stepped around to his desk chair. He sat and opened a drawer. “I’m sure the two Avenel wives will have a shopping list a mile long for you two ladies to take care of. You shall have a sizable purse as well to spend as you like on nothing but pleasure. If you like, you can even stay the night at the Duke of Ellesmere’s townhouse and--”

 

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