Sherbrooke Twins (Sherbrooke Brides 8)

“She’s right, Corrie,” he said, eyes closed.

“That your disappearance was more remarked upon than mine? Well, that’s surely a fact. Who would begin to care about me other than Aunt Maybella and Uncle Simon? It’s quite likely that Uncle Simon wouldn’t even notice unless he wanted me to hold down a leaf so he could glue it.”

That was quite true, and it made James very angry, for some reason he didn’t want to examine.

“He told me this morning that he’d found an unidentifiable leaf lying there unremarked by the side of one of the paths in Hyde Park. He was quite excited about it, determined to locate the plant from which it had detached itself, and he could enjoy his excitement without remark from Aunt Maybella since I was again home safe and sound.

“Naturally Jason missed me. And perhaps Willicombe. How I wish Buxted was here. You remember Buxted, our butler at Twyley Grange, don’t you, James?”

“Naturally. I’ve known him since I was born.”

“Buxted was always helping me slip in a

nd out, never gave me a scolding. He did caution me about London, though to the best of my knowledge he’s never been here.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said that wickedness was all fine and good within the confines of the country, but you stir wickedness in a pot the size of London, and the good Lord’s eyes near cross, Buxted was right, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, look at you. You’re all upset. Now, don’t move, James, keep yourself relaxed and your eyes closed. Is your headache better?”

He sighed deeply. “Did your aunt and uncle speak to you yesterday or this morning?”

“Certainly. Aunt Maybella wanted every detail and Uncle Simon appeared to be listening, at least most of the time. They were still thrashing it about this morning until I was ready to scream. That’s when I told them I had to come to see you.” She paused a moment, frowning over at the pillow next to James’s head.

“What?”

“Well, Uncle Simon started shaking his head at me-just shake, shake, shake-but he didn’t say anything until I was nearly ready to leave. Then he looked at me, shook his head again, and said, ‘Hunted down like a rat. Ha!’ And then he laughed a bit, and looked bemused, something he does quite well. He always looks so handsome when he does it that even if Aunt Maybella is eager to smack him, she immediately wants to stroke him. Isn’t that odd? Do you wish more water? Tea? The chamber pot?”

“Corrie.”

She paused, looked down into his eyes. “Yes?”

He simply looked at her for a long moment, then said, his voice slow and deep, “My father told me you were an heiress.”

It flew right over her head. “Heiress? What does that mean, James? Oh, I understand. My parents left me a bit of money to ensure that I would make a respectable marriage. That was kind of them.”

“It’s far more than a bit. You’re an heiress, Corrie, and maybe one of the richest young ladies in England. Your father was evidently astute with his finances, and you were his only child. Your Uncle Simon has guarded your fortune well.”

“That would be because he simply forgot about it,” she said, not really attending him now, just looking down at the lovely Turkish carpet on the floor beside his bed. James saw understanding hit her square between the eyes, saw the narrowed eyes, seamed lips, and then the explosion. She jumped off the bed, her hands on her hips, a nice touch. Her voice was all the more angry for its calmness, he’d always admired the way she could do that. “I would like to know, James Sherbrooke, how your father knew about this fortune of mine and yet I, the person to whom this supposed fortune belongs, didn’t know a single blessed thing? And why the devil would he tell you of all people? You have nothing to do with anything!” Her voice rose a bit, for emphasis. “This is absurd, James, why I believe it makes me quite angry. If I’m a bloody heiress then why didn’t Uncle Simon bother to inform me?” She stamped her foot. He’d never seen her do that before.

Now it was his turn to goad her. “Just look at you, stamping your foot like a child denied a treat. Grow up, Corrie. Young ladies don’t need to know about finances. It is not a subject that conforms to their abilities.”

She stamped her foot again. “That’s ridiculous and you know it, James Sherbrooke! Finances don’t conform to my abilities? I have worked for at least four years with Uncle Simon’s man of business! I know all about his bloody finances! Why did no one bother to mention mine to me?”

James realized that stoking the blaze wouldn’t get him what he had to have, and that was her agreement. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want it, he had to have it, no choice. A bit of conciliation, he thought. “Well, maybe. You could have a point, but that’s neither here nor there. My father told me about it because he wanted me to keep my eyes open here in London, to get rid of the fortune hunters if I saw some sniffing around you. My father said that where money was involved, there were no secrets. He’s right. It was a matter of time before rumors of your personal wealth got out, and believe me, Corrie, you’d be besieged.”

Corrie, rarely angry because it upset her stomach, forced herself down to a simmer. “Well, those rumors can’t be out yet since I didn’t even know about it.”

He smoothly delivered a discreet salvo. “And maybe the rumors won’t come out now in any case.” He looked at her beneath his lashes, but she was tapping her foot, unaware of what he’d said so very well. James sighed, looked down at his hands, clasped on top of the covers. He said without looking up, “There are many rapacious men on the hunt in London, never forget that, Corrie.”

Corrie threw her handkerchief on his face and began to pace back and forth in front of his bed. “Even though I am no longer yelling, I am still very upset about this, James.”

“I understand, but you have to admit that my father’s reason for telling me is a sound one. My father also told me, laughing his head off, what your Uncle Simon had said before he brought up the subject of your inheritance.”

“And just what was that, pray?”