Page 20 of To Heal a Broken Earl (The Rakes of Mayhem #7)

Two days later

“As rundown as I found this manor house, I was surprised to discover that there was a well-maintained game room, of all things,” Michael said before taking a swig of his brandy.

“The rest of the house was allowed to go to hell in a handbasket, but the billiard room was maintained as if it were part of White’s,” he added.

“How would you feel about a game of billiards?”

“I’d feel right at home,” Wright said, nursing his own brandy. “It seems this room was also maintained well.” He nodded to the burgundy leather seats they sat in, and the matching leather couch across the room, near a wall filled with bookshelves.

“Good. By the way, how did your visit with Aunt Chippie go?” Michael asked, topping up both of their glasses. “I thought you might be detained longer, but I am pleased you were able to rejoin us so quickly.”

“She’s as hale and hearty as ever.” Wright chuckled.

“She gets out of sorts if I don’t stop by for a visit when I’m in the area.

She’s quite the character. My family and I visited her nearly every summer, growing up.

Of course, Gran and my sisters are going to spend the summer with her.

I’ll be escorting them next month. And I’ll have to put up with both Gran and Aunt Chippie conspiring to marry me off. Like that will happen anytime soon.”

Michael arched an eyebrow. “Given how much you enjoy the company of the widow Fulbright—and I also heard there was an actress or an opera singer somewhere waiting in the wings—I believe you.”

“Damn Armstrong for his wagging tongue. He’s a worse gossip than Aunt Chippie.”

Michael threw back his head and laughed.

“I’m quite happy with my bachelorhood,” Wright said, sounding reflective.

“Besides, it seems there are fewer and fewer of us left. Although I suppose it wouldn’t be out of the question if one were to meet the caliber of woman that Armstrong did.

Even your sister was snapped up by in.” He chuckled again.

“Hmm… Too true,” Michael said, swirling his brandy.

“Lizzie and Sin are ridiculously happy with their growing family.” When he had inherited his title along with the various properties under his helm, it was all he could do to focus his time and energy on bringing them all up to snuff.

Attending Society balls and making himself a prime target for matchmaking mamas was the last thing he wanted to subject himself to.

“Speaking of those ridiculously content married men, have you heard from Armstrong?” Wright asked.

“I haven’t received a missive yet. Then again, we arrived less than a week ago.

I had hoped to receive an update on the situation in London regarding the arsonist. If I haven’t heard from Armstrong by tomorrow, I’ll send a messenger to London.

In the meantime, we have plenty to do here.

I’d appreciate your help securing and fortifying the property.

I’ve already spoken to Hastings about hiring more footmen to guard the perimeter, but I also need to reinforce the walls.

There are at least a dozen spots where it has crumbled.

To be honest, I wanted to add a few extra feet to its height.

Conveniently, I’ve stumbled upon the original plans, so it should make things easier. ”

“I’m happy to help with that. We can inquire in the village about local tradesmen,” Wright said.

“I agree. Hastings has informed me there are plenty of talented stonemasons in the area.”

“Ah, that reminds me!” Wright exclaimed.

“Aunt Chippie was showing me her latest portrait, and I’ve never seen anything more lifelike.

The artist, Mr. Craig Burns, is quite a talent.

He’s become a personal friend of hers and has created several paintings for her.

He’s the newest social obsession in Brighton! ”

Michael laughed. “You’re jesting. Your aunt is promoting a portrait artist?”

“I’m serious. I counted five new portraits of her hanging in her townhouse.”

“Your aunt is a true original,” Michael said.

“She is, indeed. However, it was the sketches Mr. Burns made that captured my attention. I think he can supply an important link to the arsonist. These were not only sketches of Aunt Chippie—they also included depictions of her previous pets, as well as her parents and siblings when they were younger. I was struck by the lifelike appearance and the detail of the drawings. I told Aunt Chippie about what Lady Emma and Katie had been through, and she suggested that perhaps Mr. Burns could help. I met with him, and I must admit he’s brilliant at his craft.

I hope you don’t mind, but I invited him here. ”

“That’s a capital idea,” Michael said. “It could give us the break we’ve been looking for in finding this arsonist.”

“I thought you’d agree,” Wright replied.

“Burns can transform the verbal descriptions provided by Katie and Lady Emma into a depiction of the face of the arsonist. I’ve also sent a missive to Headquarters, suggesting they meet with him.

He’s more skilled than any sketch artist I’ve worked with on Crown business and could be invaluable in pursuing criminals. ”

“No question! Thank you for inviting him. Knowing what the arsonist looks like will give us better protection,” Michael said.

“Given that I’m hiring additional men to guard the property, they will be much more effective with a good description of the villain.

Not to mention, we can send a copy to Armstrong, who has more contacts in London than anyone I know.

I’d like to get this resolved—it’s stressful for everyone, especially Emma and Katie. ”

“You’re on a first-name basis?” Wright teased good-naturedly.

“It became easier. We’ve spent a lot of time in each other’s company,” Michael said, finding himself irritated by his friend’s comment.

“Fair enough,” Wright said with a smile. “Do you think Lady Emma and Katie will be able to recall the arsonist?”

“Well, Katie got a better look at him,” Michael said. “But I’ve been reluctant to ask her, given the trauma she’s been through. She was having bad dreams, but Finn helped with that. He’s become her champion and sleeps at the foot of her bed now.”

“That dog is an old soul.”

“He certainly is.”

The sounds of a bark and sweet, feminine giggles from the garden wafted in through the open window, carried by the warm breeze.

Michael turned, his gaze drawn to the scene outside, where Emma and Katie watched the playful spaniel standing on his hind legs, clearly attempting some trick.

Their joy was infectious, even from a distance.

Emma looked lovely in a dark-pink dress, especially with her red hair shimmering in the sunshine.

As he studied the scene below, his thoughts returned to the feel of her warm lips on his in the library of her hands in his hair at the nape of his neck.

Giving his head a slight shake, he tried harder to stay in the moment but could not turn away.

His chest tightened at the sight of Emma’s smile, aimed affectionately at Katie and Finn—a smile that he yearned to have directed at him.

“And other than the bad dreams, how are Katie and Lady Emma doing?” Wright said, nodding at the window and forcing Michael from his reverie.

“They are both doing well under the circumstances,” Michael replied, shooting him a narrow-eyed look. Wright was a good man and a dear friend, but he was also a rogue through and through. Women seemed to fall at his feet. Michael would make sure Emma wasn’t one of them.

“Easy, man, cool your heels. I was merely inquiring how she is settling in here.” Wright flashed a grin. “No need to act the jealous suitor.” He lifted his glass as though in a salute and took a sip.

“She’s settling in fine,” Michael mumbled. “And I am not acting in any way, least of all as a suitor. Lady Emma and her niece are under my protection. That’s all. There’s a madman on the loose, or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Wright said, setting his glass down on the side table. “But I also have eyes, and I saw the tender way Lady Emma looked at you when we were on the boat. And the attentive way you responded.”

“Well, let me be clear. I am looking out for her welfare. That is all that you saw, and only that.”

Wright held up his hands in surrender, but his eyes held a teasing glint. “Of course. If you say so.”

“I do say so. And don’t go getting any notions about her either.”

“I promise to be on my best behavior when in her company,” Wright said with a grin.

“Good. Glad we cleared that up.”

“Now, how about you show me this game room that you were bragging about?”

Michael nodded and led the way. The gaming room was connected to the study and did not have a direct entrance from the hallway; one gained entry from a wood panel in the study that you tapped on the upper-right side of the panel, triggering a hinge that made it slide open.

“I didn’t notice this at first. It was Finn who saw it, sniffing at the wood paneling, scratching and whimpering until I investigated,” he said.

Wright whistled in appreciation as they stepped into the room.

“My Uncle Robert, my mother’s brother, inherited the title from my grandfather.

Based on the fabrics and style of the furnishings, I think he must have created this room.

It’s a long story, but my mother married my father, a vicar, which displeased her father.

For a while, my grandfather cut off communications.

But when my sister, Lizzie, was young, Grandpapa and Uncle Robert became part of our lives.

When Grandpapa died, Uncle Robert inherited, and we never heard from him again—until I was notified that I had inherited his title. ”

“How did your uncle die?” Wright asked.

“We’ve heard it was a carriage accident, and I’ve seen nothing to say otherwise.

His solicitor told me he found out weeks after Uncle Robert’s passing that he had died, and he needed to provide familial information to assist investigators in locating me.

This inheritance is still new to me. I learned about it shortly after leaving Romney’s—after the rescue. ”

“Well, whoever designed this hideaway did an outstanding job,” Wright said.

“What did I tell you?” Michael said, pleased at his friend’s reaction.

The entire room seemed to have been a more recent addition, with almost-new furnishings.

The walnut cabinets built into the wall at the end of the room were well stocked, housing an abundance of liquor, and the green card tables gave room for a large party—perfect for the holidays, he thought.

“And the centerpiece,” he said, pulling off a linen cover from the top of the billiard table, “is my favorite. The table does not look worn in the least. Cue sticks are over there.” He pointed to the wall adjacent to the table.

“I had the room cleaned, but that was all.”

A knock on the sliding wood panel preceded Stanhope’s entry. “My lords, I would be happy to bring you some food,” he said.

“Would you like anything, Wright?” Michael asked.

Wright gave a sheepish look. “I broke my fast early this morning, so if there’s anything light, I’d not complain.”

“That sounds like something I could get behind, too. Stanhope, ask Mrs. Peppers to prepare a few sandwiches and a platter of fruit and cheese.”

“Consider it done, my lord.” Stanhope turned to go, but then turned back, his face reddening.

“I almost forgot what else I came here to tell you,” the butler said.

“Mr. Hastings has asked that I let you know Dr. Enzo Bianchi will be here tomorrow to examine your leg. The good doctor has an office in Amberley and several patients in the area. Mr. Hastings apologized for not having informed you about it earlier.” He sniffed.

At the mention of the physician’s name, Michael felt a wave of irritation wash over him. The last thing he wanted was the Italian physician insisting on slathering that nasty-smelling salve on his leg.

“Well, the good doctor can examine my leg, but there’ll be no talk of applying concoctions,” Michael said.

He had no interest in smelling like a rotting animal’s carcass, especially with Emma and Katie staying there.

The salve smelled horrible, and it had been bad enough to subject his servants to it; he wouldn’t do that to his guests.

“Yes, my lord,” Stanhope said before retreating.

“What’s this about concoctions?” Wright asked after the butler had left.

Michael pointed sourly to his leg. “Dr. Bianchi, who is from Italy, has certain notions that he can help heal the scarred tendons in my leg. And Hastings believes him. He concocted a salve that he insists needs to be applied morning and night every day. I admit, it does take the ache out, but the smell is a whole new kind of punishment.” Although Michael had to admit—at least to himself—that his limp had been improving.

That was before the journey from London and the recent mishap in the library.

Although the kiss was worth the pain he’d experienced in his leg.

Wright laughed. “I can appreciate that. But if it helps you, don’t mind us. I’m sure I’ve smelled far worse on board a ship that has been at sea with a crew full of men who haven’t bathed in months.”

“Even so, I doubt you’ve ever encountered this particular smell before—a cross between dead fish and dog excrement. I would have to be in agony before I would subject my guests to that odor,” Michael said with a laugh.

“Methinks you would not be so opposed to it if the lovely Lady Emma were not one of your guests.” Wright grinned. “Shall we play?”

Michael frowned as Wright passed him a cue stick. His friend was right, but he refused to admit it. “Given that you’re my esteemed guest, you may go first.”

“Thank you. Red ball, back-left corner,” Wright said, tapping the white ball and easily sinking the intended target.

Michael shook his head at the smug grin Wright threw his way. His friend was a self-proclaimed lifelong bachelor. One day, he would meet a woman who would tie him up in knots as Emma did with him. And when that happened, he would relish teasing Wright.

~*~