pieces interest you at that time and thus make a generous contribution to the widows and orphans fund?"
At Mr. Whitmore's suggestion, Majel went rigid but behind the desk Adrian Marrable broke into a wide grin. The sight of that dazzling smile, slashing his features, nearly caused Vanessa's heart to stop.
"Whitmore, you've earned your entire year's retainer this day." The viscount chuckled.
Vanessa blinked at that. The man actually chuckled. The others stared at him too, as if it were a singular event. Excepting Majel, who glared daggers at her brother.
He settled deeper into the leather chair, his smile settling into a pleasant line. "I concur and intend to hearten all attending the sale to be most liberal in their purchases and offer top coin."
As his smile lingered, Vanessa felt something inexplicable stir deep inside her. She strove to ignore it, not wishing to place a name to it.
All seriousness, Mr. Whitmore replaced his glasses and straightened his papers. "Where were we?" He scanned the page for his place.
"'As to the disbursal of my jewelry, I have ever considered myself fortunate to possess a fine collection. For the most part, the pieces were inherited through my mother and through her maternal line. My collection also contains a number of prime items that I confess, somewhat blushingly, were gifts from admirers over the years.'"
A soft rumble of laughter rolled through the group.
"'In contemplating the dispersal of my jewels, I am again reminded of my nephews' marital status and of my nieces' positions.'"
Majel shot to her feet once more. "She cannot mean to leave her jewels to the orphans too! Or to the widows ." She swiveled in place, shooting a white-hot look at Vanessa.
From the corner of her eyes, Vanessa glimpsed the viscount's gaze boring into her. Lord help her. Lady Gwen couldn't have left her all her jewels. At least, she hoped not. It would then most certainly appear she'd manipulated her elderly employer and taken complete advantage of her.
Vanessa sought to calm herself. Perhaps it was merely the mention of her widowed status that netted the viscount's interest. She doubted it, yet her marital status had not been specified during the luncheon, only that she was a Mrs. rather than a Miss. The conversation had then veered to another topic, as she remembered.
Could Lord Marrable have assumed her to be still married, abandoning a husband for some outrageous reason to trail over Britain and the Continent with his aunt? She dismissed the thought as preposterous, her reasoning strained.
Mr. Whitmore again cleared his throat. "Lady Pendergast, if I might continue—“
"Do sit down, sister," Cissy pleaded, turning to Majel. "We must finish or Vanessa will miss her train."
"And what a pity that would be," Majel snipped, reseating herself.
Mr. Whitmore skimmed the page, then leafed to the next. "Ah, yes. Here, Lady Gwendolyn becomes personal in her address once more. It reads as follows:
"'Adrian, you are heir to the family's famed jewels, bestowed upon the Viscounts Marrable through our famous, and rather infamous, ancestral relation, Leonine Marrable, mistress to Charles II. It is my hope you will recover them in time to come, if you have not done so in fact already. Their loss is a loss to all Marrables as it has ever been the special treasure about which we Marrables are most fond of boasting, however scandalously they were acquired.'"
Famed jewels? Charles II's mistress? Vanessa found this a fascinating revelation. But they had slipped from the viscount's possession somehow. She saw now that his smile had vanished, his look darkening once more.
"'But I digress’"—Mr. Whitmore read on—"'Adrian, your personal wealth allows you to purchase whatever gems you wish, should you have the inclination or again take a wife. You have no need for my trifles. Therefore, I leave you but one item from my own
At Mr. Whitmore's suggestion, Majel went rigid but behind the desk Adrian Marrable broke into a wide grin. The sight of that dazzling smile, slashing his features, nearly caused Vanessa's heart to stop.
"Whitmore, you've earned your entire year's retainer this day." The viscount chuckled.
Vanessa blinked at that. The man actually chuckled. The others stared at him too, as if it were a singular event. Excepting Majel, who glared daggers at her brother.
He settled deeper into the leather chair, his smile settling into a pleasant line. "I concur and intend to hearten all attending the sale to be most liberal in their purchases and offer top coin."
As his smile lingered, Vanessa felt something inexplicable stir deep inside her. She strove to ignore it, not wishing to place a name to it.
All seriousness, Mr. Whitmore replaced his glasses and straightened his papers. "Where were we?" He scanned the page for his place.
"'As to the disbursal of my jewelry, I have ever considered myself fortunate to possess a fine collection. For the most part, the pieces were inherited through my mother and through her maternal line. My collection also contains a number of prime items that I confess, somewhat blushingly, were gifts from admirers over the years.'"
A soft rumble of laughter rolled through the group.
"'In contemplating the dispersal of my jewels, I am again reminded of my nephews' marital status and of my nieces' positions.'"
Majel shot to her feet once more. "She cannot mean to leave her jewels to the orphans too! Or to the widows ." She swiveled in place, shooting a white-hot look at Vanessa.
From the corner of her eyes, Vanessa glimpsed the viscount's gaze boring into her. Lord help her. Lady Gwen couldn't have left her all her jewels. At least, she hoped not. It would then most certainly appear she'd manipulated her elderly employer and taken complete advantage of her.
Vanessa sought to calm herself. Perhaps it was merely the mention of her widowed status that netted the viscount's interest. She doubted it, yet her marital status had not been specified during the luncheon, only that she was a Mrs. rather than a Miss. The conversation had then veered to another topic, as she remembered.
Could Lord Marrable have assumed her to be still married, abandoning a husband for some outrageous reason to trail over Britain and the Continent with his aunt? She dismissed the thought as preposterous, her reasoning strained.
Mr. Whitmore again cleared his throat. "Lady Pendergast, if I might continue—“
"Do sit down, sister," Cissy pleaded, turning to Majel. "We must finish or Vanessa will miss her train."
"And what a pity that would be," Majel snipped, reseating herself.
Mr. Whitmore skimmed the page, then leafed to the next. "Ah, yes. Here, Lady Gwendolyn becomes personal in her address once more. It reads as follows:
"'Adrian, you are heir to the family's famed jewels, bestowed upon the Viscounts Marrable through our famous, and rather infamous, ancestral relation, Leonine Marrable, mistress to Charles II. It is my hope you will recover them in time to come, if you have not done so in fact already. Their loss is a loss to all Marrables as it has ever been the special treasure about which we Marrables are most fond of boasting, however scandalously they were acquired.'"
Famed jewels? Charles II's mistress? Vanessa found this a fascinating revelation. But they had slipped from the viscount's possession somehow. She saw now that his smile had vanished, his look darkening once more.
"'But I digress’"—Mr. Whitmore read on—"'Adrian, your personal wealth allows you to purchase whatever gems you wish, should you have the inclination or again take a wife. You have no need for my trifles. Therefore, I leave you but one item from my own
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