The Last Waltz by Mary Balogh

Author:Mary Balogh
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

IT DID NOT take long to instruct Charles Monck to pay her ladyship a quarter's allowance without delay and to talk with him about a few other items of business. It did not take much longer to go through the morning post and dispose of the bulk of it and set aside the few items that would need more attention when he had the time to spare.

He needed to think.

She had not had money of her own since her marriage. Monck had confirmed her claim that Gilbert had paid all her bills, and those bills had been few. The earl had looked himself through the account books for the past six years and had discovered incredibly few entries relating to clothes or jewels—there were none at all of the latter, in fact—or other personal items for either the countess or her children.

She had had no spending money since Gilbert's death. She had submitted the bills for her few mourning clothes but had never asked for money.

What debt could she have incurred now that she would not merely submit as a bill for payment? There was no evidence that she had ever been extravagant—quite the contrary. Her spontaneous reaction to the proposed card games last evening, which she had expected to be gambling games, had demonstrated her puritanical horror of wagering.

It was no trifling debt despite her description of it as such. She had come very close to fainting. Even before she had opened the letter her pallor had been apparent—it had shown up shockingly in contrast to the two bright spots of color that remained high on her cheeks from the outdoor chill. She had recognized the handwriting and had known what debt was being called in.

What debt?

It was none of his business, he told himself. He would willingly pay it, whatever it was, but she had rejected any more help than an advance on next quarter's allowance.

It had looked like the handwriting of an old or sick person.

He was prevented from further thought on the subject by a light tap on the library door followed by its opening. A head peered cautiously around it.

"Oh," Jeannette Campbell said, looking mortified, "there is someone in here. I am so sorry for disturbing you, Gerard. I was told I might find a book here, but I can come back another time."

"Come in." He strode toward her, smiling. "I cannot imagine anyone by whom I would more prefer to be disturbed. There are shelves of books, some few of them even readable, I believe. But can your choosing one wait, Jeannette? Will you put your cloak and bonnet back on and come outside with me again?"

She looked at him in some surprise, but she shared his love of the outdoors, he knew. They had agreed long ago that it was the best place in which to do one's thinking and relaxing.

"Of course," she said. "Give me two minutes."

They were striding off in the direction of the lake five minutes later. They did not talk.

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