“No,” Rowan allowed. “But she is not afraid. That counts for something.”
Magnus said nothing at first, then sighed and shook his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I will be gone in a few days, and she can do whatever it is that she pleases with her strategy.”
He would be gone for at least two months, and Dorothy would have free rein. If she claimed to know what was best for Eugenia, she had his absence to prove it.
Rowan leaned back, folding his arms with a smirk. “Ah, that reminds me. About our journey south. We have half a dozenvisits set out from Newcastle down through York and on to London itself. The iron merchants in Leeds, the shipping brokers near Hull, the coal investors along the Tyne, every one of them wants some audience with you. Once in the capital, there are the bankers, the insurers, the men with their hands in every pocket that keeps the ships afloat.”
Magnus gave a low grunt. “You forget yourself, Rowan. I am not calling on all of them. You know as well as I that I have little taste for rooms filled with men eager to wheedle and gossip. You can do the meetings. You do it well. It is why we are business partners.”
Rowan’s laugh rang out. “True enough, but you cannot vanish into your ledgers forever. They may not know you, but they know of you, and half their eagerness is to stand in the presence of the man who built a fleet without ever leaving his study. There will be questions. Decisions to take swiftly. I will need you close, even if you do not speak.”
Magnus’s eyes hardened. “Close, perhaps, but I will not waste my breath on every merchant who fancies himself indispensable. I shall be meeting the Duke of Montclaire and the Duke of Ashbourne; that is all. They are partners, men of standing, and it would be folly to leave their hands unshaken. The rest, Rowan, will have to content themselves with your agreeable manner.”
Rowan shrugged, unoffended. “As you will. The dukes are settled, then, once we reach their estates. But understand, we are also to ride out and scout the harbors in Whitby and the newyards near Scarborough. Word is the Ashbourne estate has lands near enough to be of use. We would be reckless not to look.”
Magnus inclined his head, the line of his jaw tightening. “Scouting is acceptable. I will see the ground with my own eyes. That is how I know what is worth investing in.”
Rowan gave him a long, assessing look, then smiled faintly. “Are you happy with that then? To be called a recluse by nearly every man in trade?”
Magnus’s mouth curved faintly, though it was not quite a smile. “Happy? No. But it suits me well enough.”
“You cannot say it does not bother you.”
“It does not. I deal in ships and coin, Rowan, not chatter. Let them whisper.”
“But perception matters. If you never show your face, they will imagine you into something worse than truth. A tyrant, a phantom...”
Magnus cut him off with a low laugh. “A phantom frightens men into paying their dues faster than a smiling partner ever would. I see no harm in that.”
Rowan shook his head, still unconvinced. “Perhaps. But there will come a day when shadows will not serve you. On that day, you may find you need to be seen.”
Magnus returned his gaze to the window, his tone flat. “Perhaps. But not today.”
Rowan gave a short laugh. “Not today, perhaps. But you are married now, Magnus. That changes matters. You will have obligations, dinners, invitations, and appearances. What do you mean to do about those? Hide her away as you hide yourself?”
Magnus’s jaw tensed, though he did not look at him. “She is free to attend as she pleases.”
“That is not an answer,” Rowan pressed. “It will not do for your wife to be paraded about alone while the world wonders why her husband will not stand at her side. It will only breed more talk and worse than you have endured thus far.”
Magnus’s fingers tightened against the arm of the chair, the only sign of his discomfort. “I have no interest in satisfying society’s appetites for spectacle.”
“No, but you must have some interest in protecting her,” Rowan countered softly.
“I do not want to speak of it. I am tired, Rowan, and I have a headache from all this prattle about marriage. Do not bring it up again.”
Rowan raised his brows, but Magnus was already rising, his movements decisive. “We depart tomorrow. See to it that you are well rested, Rowan,” Magnus said, giving him a knowinglook. “Rowan... rest. Do not spend your evening in questionable places.”
Rowan leaned back in his chair with a crooked grin. “As you command, Your Grace, the Recluse. I shall take myself off before your head aches clean through your skull.”
Magnus shot him a look that landed somewhere between exasperation and reluctant amusement, then swept from the room without another word. Rowan chuckled to himself as the door closed behind him.
“So, tell me what I must do then. I’m ready,” Dorothy said eagerly, her hands folded before her.
Mrs. Tresswell beamed. “That is good to hear, Your Grace. I think that it will mean much to the household to see you taking an interest.”
The housekeeper, Mrs. Redmond, inclined her head, her expression composed but cautious. “The house runs on a steady rhythm, Your Grace. Nothing is amiss.”
Dorothy’s lips curved into a small smile. “Perhaps nothing is amiss, Mrs. Redmond, but I have noticed certain corners where time has left its touch. The plaster along the north corridor is cracked, and in the library, the curtains have quite lost their color. Only yesterday, I felt a chill sweeping down the stairwell,as though the drafts had claimed it for their own. Surely some of these things might be improved?”
