I should never have agreed to second the duel. To offer my carriage. I never should have seen a thing.
“My sincerest condolences.”
“Thank you. I am only glad to still have my siblings amongst me. Family is very important…” Her gaze shifted over to him as they were reminded that the two of them were family now. The mood shifted from sober to awkward. Hastily glancing away, she cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to distract you. I merely wanted to share my thanks.”
He nodded, turning his attention back to the small window. There was little enough to say here. It wasn’t about receiving her gratitude for it never should have happened. Why people cared to speak cruelly like that, he didn’t understand.
It made him rethink his suspicions about Verity running her own gossip rag. Even for the worthwhile entertainment, she had to see how much it could hurt people. Did she do it on purpose? Did anyone else support her through this venture?
There are too many holes in my theory at this time. Although there are pieces that line up, I cannot understand how she learns everything, what printer she uses, and how she makes it all happen every week. I will need to study her more carefully.
With a creak, the carriage turned off the street over to their home. It drew further into the mews so they might have coverage over the rain that stormed above.
“Goodness me,” Verity murmured as they rolled to a stop. “What a storm we have today.”
“Just be glad we avoided getting wet. I’m certain anyone left lingering at the party was caught up in a swim,” he noted whilst climbing out first. Then he turned back to offer her a hand. “We were the lucky ones.”
Verity’s grip was warm. As she descended, she told him, “Do be careful or I fear you might ruin the luck.”
“How? I didn’t do anything.”
“By talking about it,” she pointed out, though he didn’t see how that could do any harm. “You could breathe it into existence, don’t you know?”
He shook his head as their butler and a footman opened the door. “I think that sounds more like witchcraft than prayer.”
“I don’t mean it as anything but a friendly warning,” she said with a slight smile. “Thank you, Mr. Timmons. What a rainy day we have! Are all the servants returned from their outside duties?”
“Nearly so. I don’t have expectations for anyone to return soon,” he noted as he took their cloaks and hats along with the footman. “We have our kitchen supplies for today; our stablemaster is out with a horse and two footmen are running messages. None of their work was too timely for today.”
They talked on house business as Dominic and Verity set aside their travel garments; Dominic mostly listened while reminding himself of the list of business items he needed to attend before the day was out.
But then he glimpsed the door of the sunroom.
Water was pooling beneath it, spilling into the hall.
Cursing loudly, Dominic diverted himself from the conversation to hurry to the room. He pushed the door open to find rain pouring through two places of the ceiling. Everything was wet. Ruined. Flooding.
This had been his mother’s favorite place in the house. It had been smaller and shabby during her lifetime. But the moment Dominic could control any finances, he had updated the room into what she always used to whisper was her dream.
Not that he went in here often, not lately. But he had for a time––with the intention of always returning. He liked the plants and sunshine even if he never made time for them.
And now…
Water sloshed around his shoes. He grimaced, running a hand through his hair as he looked about.
An absolute disaster. He had a lake in his house now. There were inches of water already. Something must have happened the moment the storm started, Dominic realized. Without anyone needing to enter the room, no one had noticed anything amiss.
“Oh goodness. We never…” Behind him, the butler muttered in surprise. “Luke, gather the household. We’ll need help from everyone to staunch the flow before it spreads across the rest of the house.”
Thunder rumbled overhead as though to remind them the storm was not stopping any time soon. Dread filled Dominic as he stared, frozen, in dismay.
The entire ground floor could flood.
“Very well. No time for shoes or gloves, I suppose,” Verity’s voice sounded behind him.
Something about her frank tone pulled him back into the moment. Inhaling deeply, Dominic jerked into attention.
“Save everything,” he ordered over his shoulders. “We need to move the furniture and plants out at once.”
