Paul scraped his chair back. “Not at all.” He exchanged a glance with Keith before leaving the room.
The moment the door was shut, the count edged closer to Keith. “Do you trust Mr. Wellington?”
“I do.” The real answer was more complicated than that, but he didn’t want to explain to the count all the intricacies of his relationship with Paul. Besides, he trusted Paul with the management of the centre.
“Hmm.” The count drummed his fingers on the polished desk. “You don’t have any qualms about involving him in a project as expensive and delicate as yours, do you? Trusting him with the lives of young people?”
Keith was confused. “None, my lord.” Was the count searching for faults? First, he’d complained about the incidents that might happen. Now, Paul wasn’t trustworthy. What was the count’s point?
The count pushed aside the documents Paul had shown him. “Ashford, I like your enthusiasm and practicality.”
“Thank you. But?”
“Please indulge me.” The count exhaled. “I’d like you to have an honest conversation with your friend and discuss the project and his commitment to it in depth. Then we’ll talk again.”
“I will. Although I like Paul’s idea.”
“Talk to him. I’m talking to you not as a probable investor but as a friend.”
“I will talk to him.” Keith gathered the documents in the folder, puzzled about the conversation.
Paul would be involved, yes, and Keith trusted him with the project. Why was the count doubtful? Anyway, he would do as told and talk with Paul.
He paused along the hallway to watch out of the window. Violante promenaded in the manicured garden. Her colourful parasol gleamed in the sunlight as she twirled it. The weight onhis chest lifted. Just watching her smile in the sunshine made him feel better. From his elevated position, he also had a good view of the blasted maze. It wasn’t complicated at all once he studied its pattern from above. And to think it’d taken him a long time to find the exit.
Another parasol seemingly floated along one of the aisles between the hedgerows. It had to belong to Lady Diana. She seemed to pace back and forth on one spot though. Surely, she couldn’t be lost. She should know the maze better than her house.
Nigel hurried inside the maze. He was supposed to be in the village.
Keith checked his watch. No, Nigel couldn’t have gone to the village and returned here in fifteen minutes. Besides, he’d said he’d return in the late afternoon. Keith lost sight of him, and even the parasol vanished.
“Keith.” Paul hurried towards him, breaking Keith’s musing. “How did it go?”
“I’m not sure.” He glanced one last time at the maze. Even Violante was nowhere to be seen. “Follow me.” He led Paul to his bedroom and shut the door. He dropped the folders on the escritoire. “First, I find your idea of our cooperation brilliant. But the count is worried about your commitment to the project. Did you say anything to him that might have caused these doubts?”
“No. I barely talked to the man.” Paul scoffed. “I’m fully committed. I already have a few American investors ready to help me. All facts and figures are recorded in my documents. I showed everything to him. I don’t know what more I could do.”
Keith shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think the count is going to sell to me or even be part of our project. He brings up one problem after another. He prefers Nigel’s idea.”
“He wants to make a profit. That’s understandable. Although I’m disappointed. He claims to have strong principles, after all, and there’s no need to evict anyone.”
Keith rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. “Maybe we should leave it and find something else.”
“And let Sir Nigel kick out honest people from their houses to build his hotel? He’ll cause a riot, and riots attract the Fenians’ attention.”
“Good point.”
“I need to think of another strategy. Maybe I can show more data to the count,” Paul said.
Keith caught another glimpse of Violante in the garden, and his heart gave a kick. There she was. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
Paul nodded. “Your new wife.”
No, Keith wouldn’t correct Paul and confess his marriage to Violante was fake. “Please give Violante what she wants.”
“If she wants to be compensated, then yes. But her mother’s pendant is gone. I can’t help her, and to be honest, I’m not eager to.”
“Why? These years have been harsh for her.”
