As if on cue, a knock sounded on the paneled door. The butler announced, "Mr. Christopher."

Mr. Christopher, a short, balding man wearing gold wire spectacles, entered the room. For all his lack of

physical stature, he was one of the most respected men of business in London. His presence rea.s.sured

Brenn. Neil Hamlin might be a bit of a loose fish, but not when it came to money.

Without fanfare, Mr. Christopher quickly drew out the marriage contracts. "I believe everything is in order as we discussed, my lord," he said to Brenn.

Brenn reviewed the doc.u.ments, aware that Christopher had pointedly ignored Hamlin. Hamlin seemed

unaware of the snub.

Everything appeared to be as agreed to in the contracts-although no mention was made of an exact monetary accounting of the marriage settlements. Brenn tapped the doc.u.ment thoughtfully with his finger, debating whether or not to push the issue.

He decided to push.

"I notice there is no mention of the marriage settlements." He looked expectantly to Mr. Christopher.

Mr. Christopher met his gaze with a level one of his own. "Mr. Hamlin personally oversees his sister's

affairs."

Brenn sensed that Mr. Christopher was discreetly telling him something. He turned. Hamlin still stood next to the liquor cabinet, one hand wrapped around the neck of a decanter as if holding it for support.

Realizing he must give an answer, Hamlin shrugged. "Let us finish the contracts and then I'll discuss Tess'

s affairs afterward. I'm willing to answer all of your questions.""But shouldn't a monetary figure be stated in the contract?" Brenn asked.

Hamlin dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. "You receive it all. Of course, it's invested. Finish

with Christopher and then we'll go over it."Brenn glanced at Mr. Christopher but no opinion showed on the man's carefully schooled features.Looking down at the cramped writing covering the contract, Brenn decided his reservations weregroundless. After all, it was common knowledge that Tess was an heiress.

Dipping the pen in ink, he scratched his name at the bottom of all four copies. Two were for himself, one

for Hamlin, one for Mr. Christopher as the Hamlin family executor.

Hamlin wobbled forward and signed his name. Mr. Christopher served as witness. With the fastidiousness inherent to his business, Mr. Christopher then sanded the signatures and rolled the doc.u.ments into scrolls. "Do you wish to take your copies of the doc.u.ment with you, my lord?"

"I'll take one. Have the other delivered to Rupert Goining on Beckon Road," Brenn said. "He's my man."

"Ah, I think well of Mr. Goining," Mr. Christopher said.

"He speaks highly of you also."

"I shall see it delivered to him. Now, if our business is concluded, I shall take my leave."

"Yes, yes," Hamlin quickly interjected. "You are free to go, Christopher. I'll be round to see you next Tuesday as usual."

"Yes, sir." Christopher paused by the door. "May I again offer my congratulations, Lord Merton? Your

wife is a singularly lovely and gracious woman."

Obviously the man had never been on the sharp end of Tess's tongue. Brenn smiled with genuine amus.e.m.e.nt. "Thank you, Mr. Christopher."

The accountant hesitated as if he had something else he wished to say.

"Yes?" Brenn prompted. The man was a financial genius. Brenn wanted to hear his opinions.

Mr. Christopher glanced at Hamlin. A small crease of disapproval appeared on his forehead, but when

he shifted his gaze back to Brenn, his decision to leave well enough alone was plainly written on his face.

"I wish you all the best, my lord." Mr. Christopher left the room.

Brenn had the premonition that Mr. Christopher had wanted to warn him about something. He stared at the door the accountant had just used.

"That man's a cold fish," Hamlin declared. "Drink to your health, Merton? And to a safe journey?"

Brenn rose and removed the gla.s.s from his brother-in-law's hand, setting it on the table. "I want to talk about the marriage settlements."

"Oh." Hamlin smiled at him.

Brenn smiled back, a small smile, one without amus.e.m.e.nt. "The settlements."

Hamlin walked around his desk. "Well." He "ahemed," and then reached into a drawer, pulling out a

stack of papers. "I'm never certain how much it is at any one time. But it is considerable," he added quickly.

"Certainly you have a general idea of the figure?"

Hamlin shuddered as if such cra.s.s accounting was beyond good taste. "I never keep that sort of thing inmy head. Too dangerous."Such a verdict didn't surprise Brenn. "Well, do you have it written down somewhere?" he persisted.Hamlin clapped his hands together. "Yes, I do. It's all here." He slapped the stack of papers.Brenn leaned across the desk, spreading the papers out to read. He frowned. "These are in Italian."Hamlin nodded as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world. "I placed Tess's money in a very sound business."

"An Italian business?"

Hamlin sat back in the chair and smiled. "They should be worth quite a bit. And I'm sure you can now

see why I don't have an exact accounting."No, Brenn didn't. He squinted down at the top paper, attempting to decipher the minuscule writing. It all looked like gibberish. Nor was there any monetary value, in lira or pounds mentioned in the doc.u.ment.

"Is all of her inheritance in these investments?"

"Yes."

Brenn wondered what to do. He needed money. His fortune-hunting trip had cost him more than he'd

planned. Plus, he'd purchased farming equipment for Erwynn Keep. He had less than thirty pounds in his

pocket at this moment.

Hamlin rose. "Wait, one more thing." He crossed over to a small leather chest sitting on a side table and carried it back over to the desk. "This is a wedding gift from Stella and myself."

Brenn opened the chest, and then smiled with relief.

"Three hundred pounds," Hamlin said proudly.

"This is so generous-"

"Think nothing of it." Hamlin poured himself another drink. "Tess means the world to me. I expect you to

treat her right," he added seriously. "Cherish her, love her, honor her."

Brenn looked up into Hamlin's blue eyes that were so much like Tess's and struggled with a pang ofconscience. "I will," he said solemnly, but he felt a fraud.But Hamlin wasn't able to read minds. Instead of denouncing Brenn, he grinned. "Capital! Now, let's a have a drink to seal our pact." While Hamlin drank, Brenn wrote a note to Mr. Goining instructing him to convert these investments to pounds sterling with all possible haste. Ironically, it was Harve, the footman, who answered his ring and set off to deliver the note and papers to his man of business.

Out in the grand foyer, the house was in an uproar. Huge trunks and hatboxes were piled everywhere. They had not been there when Brenn had entered Hamlin's study.

"What is this?" he asked, shifting the weight of the money chest from one arm to the other.

Hamlin snorted, a bit unsteady on his feet. "Tess's trunks." He turned to the butler. "Nestor, is there aproblem? Why aren't these loaded?"

"The first coach has arrived, sir, but we are waiting for the luggage coach.""The luggage coach?" Brenn frowned. He'd hired a coach to take them to Wales-at the tune of oneshilling, six pence per mile-which sat outside, waiting. He'd not considered the need for a separateluggage coach.

Stella came down the stairs. "Neil! I am developing one of my headaches! I can't abide seeing the front

hall in this state. When will the second coach appear?"

"I don't know, my dear," her husband answered cheerily. "Merton, when will the second coach toddle along?"

Before he could answer, Stella interrupted, "You have been drinking again." She released her breath in a huff. "Just once when there is something to be done, I wish you would stay sober enough to see it through."

Hamlin rocked back on his heels, apparently unperturbed to be upbraided by his wife in front of the servants. "How right you are, darling. I say, you won't mind if I take a bit of a nap, do you?" He didn't wait for her answer but started toward the stairs. "Good-bye and good luck to you, Merton. Give my sister my best."

He didn't even look back.Stella turned on Brenn, the cold look in her eye anything but friendly."I didn't hire a second coach," he told her."Didn't hire one?" Stella repeated, as if he'd announced that he wanted to chop off his foot. Even the servants gaped in surprise.

"You must have a luggage coach," she declared. "How else is Tess going to take all her dresses with her?"