But what emotions was he even capable of revealing to Redfield? It wasn’t as if he was in love with Rosalie. Why shouldn’t a man be protective of his wife? It didn’t have to mean anything…
“Shall we discuss details, then?” Redfield asked, wrenching Nathan from his thoughts.
“We can discuss them in my study.” Nathan stood and beckoned Redfield to stand as well. The Marquess stood, bowed to Rosalie, and then followed Nathan out of the parlor and into the hall. They walked down the corridor together then into Nathan’s study.
“Now, what do you have for me?” he asked, once he was settled at his desk across from Redfield.
“I have this.” Redfield reached into his briefcase and took out a piece of parchment which he stretched out onto the desk. “It’s a map of all the production points where the opium is moved into the estate. What I need from you is help finding the best way to move it out of the estate again and help finding suppliers throughout England, especially Northern England.”
“Very good,” Nathan said, his eyes perusing the map as thoroughly as was possible. He had to memorize every place so that he could report it back to Scotland Yard. This might be his only chance; he didn’t know how long he could keep this charade going.
Just enough to make sure that Scotland Yard puts you away for a good long time.
At last, when Redfield was done talking, the two men shook hands.
“I look forward to our partnership together,” Nathan said.
Lord Redfield nodded. “Please apologize to the Duchess for calling so late, and of course, thank her for convincing me to bring you both onboard. She is an incredible woman. And of all those sisters, the most like her father in the end.” His eyes glittered. “No wonder she married you.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Well, we did it.”
Nathan watched from the doorway as Rosalie whirled around. She’d been standing at the window, watching as Lord Redfield’s carriage pulled away, and now, at the sound of her voice, she turned, a magnificent smile on her face.
“Did we really?” she whispered. “I mean, I heard what he said earlier, but I still can’t believe it!”
“I can hardly believe it myself,” Nathan said, and he allowed himself a relieved half-laugh. “He gave me maps, Rosalie!”
It was the first time he had used her given name since they’d been married, and her smile slipped for a moment; she didn’t look angry, just surprised. Perhaps even a little nervous.
“He gave you maps? Of the production sites?”
Nathan nodded. “I couldn’t have asked for anything so comprehensive! If I had snooped through all his ledgers, accounts, and books, I never would have found as much information as he just readily gave me, thinking I was on his side!”
“Oh my goodness!” Rosalie clapped a hand to her mouth. “You really think so?”
“I really do.” He paused for a moment, calculating, and then he beckoned her toward him. “What do you say we celebrate this properly?”
She looked for a moment as if he had just propositioned her. “W-what do you mean?”
Nathan raised an eyebrow.That naughty girl, what does she think I mean?“Let’s have a drink in my study,” he said. “That’s how gentlemen celebrate their victories.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” she said, blushing. Nathan shook his head and tutted, and she blushed even more. He loved the sight of her pink, flushed cheeks, and as he turned to head back to his study, he couldn’t keep a smile from spreading across his lips.
Once they were in his study, he went to the sideboard and took out the oldest and most expensive bottle of scotch that he had.
“This was given to me a long time ago,” Nathan said, studying it for a long moment, his back still to Rosalie. “I have been saving it for a special occasion.”
“Where did you get it?” Her voice sounded quieter in the study, surrounded by so many books. It was low and soft, one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard—not just beautiful but comforting. It actually made him want to tell her the truth.
“My brother,” he said at last. He stood and turned to face her, still clutching the bottle of scotch close to him. “He gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday so that we could celebrate my becoming a man. We had our first sip of it together that day. We each had a glass. But he was very clear in his instructions, and he made me four conditions: firstly, that I was only ever to open it on special occasions, secondly, that I was only to have one glass each time I drank from it, and thirdly, every time I had a glass, I was to write the special occasion on this little card here.” He indicated the card that had been tied to the neck of the bottle.
“That way, Ethan told me, I would have a record of all the best occasions of my life, and when I was old and having my final glass, I could read through them and remember all that I had celebrated.”
Rosalie’s lips were parted slightly, and her eyes were shining as she took a step toward him. “That’s very beautiful,” she murmured.
She reached out a hand and delicately traced a finger over the card. “How many occasions are written in it so far?”
