“How would you know all that? You weren’t even six when you left.”
“My father told me. Blackguard though he was, I don’t believe he lied about my mother; he must have had good reasons for leaving her. He never did anything without a good reason.”
In Trick’s estimation, his parents had frankly deserved one another, each as selfish and uncaring as the other. Perhaps that was human nature, but Trick wanted to do better. Was determined to do better.
He would make this marriage work if it killed him.
“Tomorrow I need to go to London,” he said.
Kendra’s eyes danced. “I love London. Have you a house in town?”
“Aye. And I’m sure you’ll find it every bit as disgustingly opulent as Amberley House.” He smiled on the outside while cringing internally. “I’ll be going alone this time, though.”
“Oh.” The light in her eyes died, and his insides twisted. “Why?”
He had to leave—he’d actually, before this whirlwind of a wedding had come up, been planning to leave today. His shipping company needed his attention. The shipping company that he’d decided to keep secret from her for the time being, lest she figure out he could well afford to support the orphanage without resorting to robbery.
“I had arranged it,” he said quickly, “before we met.”
As he guided the caleche onto Amberley’s long approach, he ran a hand through his hair and cast her an appraising glance. Her expression had turned contemplative. He could almost see the wheels turning in her pretty red head.
“Perhaps we can put aside some money and invest,” she said. “In the future, with careful planning, playing the highwayman might become unnecessary. With any luck, before you ever get caught and”—her voice dropped—“strung up at Tyburn.” She turned on the bench seat to face him. “I’ll help you.”
“You will not. I won’t have you endangering yourself—”
Her laughter rang through the deepening shadows. “I didn’t mean with the robberies, but with the investing. I’ve a knack with finances—you can ask Jason.”
“He lets you invest his money?”
She stiffened beside him. “Not independently, but I’ve helped him make decisions, yes.”
“Whoa, there.” He put a hand on her arm, pleased when she didn’t pull away. “I wasn’t disapproving, just asking.”
“All right, then.” Her expression softened. “It’s only that I don’t know you, and—”
“I don’t know you, either.”
“True enough.” After a considered pause, an unmistakable glimmer lit her green eyes. “As for the highway robbery, I have a good aim—”
“Ye won’t.” Hearing his accent broadening, he winced. What was it about her that got under his skin? Pulling up before Amberley House, he tugged on the reins with more force than was necessary before taking her by the shoulders. “I mean it, Kendra.”
“I was jesting,” she whispered, her smile sweet. Something inside him seemed to shift. It was such a small space to bring his lips to hers; he did it without thinking. Her mouth was soft and yielding, and he felt her pulse race beneath his fingertips on her neck. Their lips clung for a long, heady moment before he pulled away.
“Oh,” she whispered. “I cannot keep my head when you do that.”
“Aye?” He couldn’t help but grin as he handed the reins to a groom and hopped down from the caleche.
Perhaps this marriage wouldn’t kill him after all.
SEVENTEEN
SEATED AT Trick’s desk, Kendra frowned at the ledger in front of her. “So you’ve been living here at Amberley for six months?”
“Aye. And I fired Rankill after two.” Trick took a sip of bracing whisky, then set the glass on the table beside his favorite leather armchair.
He’d returned from seeing to his London interests to hear his wife had spent the past week examining his books and inspecting his property. After recovering from the shock, he’d decided he was pleased. With that part of their relationship, at least.
Now that he was back home, he’d work on the other part. He’d made progress before he left—he was sure of it. Though he’d as soon strangle her brothers for being right, he had to admit he and Kendra were a good match. They simply needed to get past these initial difficulties.
“Were my suspicions about Rankill’s dishonesty on target, then?” he asked her, feeling more than awkward requesting his wife’s opinion of his estate business. But between the king’s mission and the demands of his shipping company, he had precious little time to see to Amberley. “Was I right to let him go?”
“You should have done it earlier.” She glanced up. “Your father died three years ago. What brought you back now?”
He couldn’t tell her he’d moved home at King Charles’s request to track down a problem in the region. Or that he’d agreed to do so in exchange for a pardon from old smuggling charges. The threat of losing Amberley and the title had been veiled and, truth be told, unnecessary. Trick cared not a whit for his father’s legacy and would have agreed to the mission out of patriotism and friendship alone.
But, nay, he couldn’t tell Kendra any of that.
“I decided Amberley was in need of my attention,” he said instead.
“Well, you haven’t paid it much,” she retorted.
Noticing she still wasn’t wearing his bracelet, he sighed and sipped again, feigning unconcern. “What evidence is there that Rankill embezzled?”
“Look here.” She waved him over. “Amberley’s northwest quarter is capable of producing many more bushels than are recorded. And in the east”—she startled when he leaned over her—“this land will support more sheep than are shown in the records.” Slowly she shifted, turning to meet his eyes.
He’d missed her lavender scent. Bracing himself with one hand on the desk, he held her gaze steadily. “Is that so?”
“Y-yes.” She drew a breath and looked back down. “As a matter of fact, I counted fifty more head than are noted in the ledger. And you should purchase yet more. You’re not maximizing your profits in this area.”
“Our
