“Why don’t you finish putting up the paper streamers in the dining room?” he said, clearly unwilling to discuss what was a sensitive topic in front of company. “That would be a big help. Just don’t let Miss Murray see.”
The second suggestion, which piqued Beau’s interest, seemed to sit better with Teddy, who stopped in front of Beau on his way out of the room.
“Can I call you uncle, then?”
The boy’s directness and the request took Beau a little aback. Not because of his question, but because of the word “uncle”. Jessica and Neil did not have children, and the title was a novel one to Beau.
“I suppose you can,” he said, sounding out the phrase several times to himself, trying it on like a new suit. And like one tailored for him, it fit perfectly. “Uncle Beau has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
Teddy nodded, gave him a wide, toothy grin, then proceeded on his mission in the dining room.
“Are the streamers for Madeline’s birthday?” Beau asked.
“They are,” Hollis said. “Annie made her a cake. But it’s meant to be a surprise.”
Beau smiled to himself. First, at the Chandlers’ thoughtfulness, especially Annie’s. He’d been thinking of Madeline’s birthday from almost the moment she’d mentioned it to him. What present would be good enough for a woman like Madeline Murray? She didn’t seem to care for jewels. He’d bought far more expensive trinkets for women he didn’t care for, mostly because it was so easy to go to a jeweller and ask for something flashy. It was easy, it was expensive, but in the end, it was meaningless.
Of course, the book he’d boughten her was not an everyday gift, but he would buy her an entire library of precious volumes if he could. Maybe when this was over—when Dominic Ashe finally solved this case and he could go back to Saint John and get things to rights there—he would take Madeline to Boston or New York or even London, to the best book shops, and let her have her pick.
Something twisted. When this was over, Madeline Murray was going back to Everwell. Unless he could induce her to go to London, or Boston, or anywhere beyond her beloved rose gardens.
And the only way to do that was to marry her.
Beau smiled, thinking back to their encounter in her rose garden back in Everwell. He’d landed on his back, nearly breathless. Of course, he’d been rendered breathless from almost the moment he’d met her.
“Can we talk about Taylor’s letter?” Beau asked, idly swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Was it about an offer from George’s College?”
Daniel exchanged a look with Hollis, then nodded.
“What you do with your property is your business. We didn’t want you influenced by us.”
“He came ’round to see me yesterday,” Beau said. “I told him I wasn’t selling.”
“Won’t that fella turn you in?” Hollis said, his brow furrowed with concern.
“We came to an agreement,” he said. Men like Taylor could be bought, and Beau could afford it. If Dominic solved the case, he could walk away and never worry about this ever again. “I’m not worried about him.”
“You seem confident,” Daniel said.
“Too confident,” Hollis repeated. “You must get that from your mother. There wasn’t much that scared her.”
A shadow passed over Hollis’ face, and Beau wanted to ask more about it, but this was not the time.
“I’ve handled men like him before more times than I can count,” he said. “I know what they want, and I’ve always managed to give it to them while still getting what I want.”
“How did he take it?” Daniel asked. “Word has it the college was offering him a bonus if he could secure both properties.”
“He wasn’t thrilled, but it’s my decision. I’m not inclined to be kind to the man, after what I saw of him when we first met.”
“Well,” Hollis said, “I suppose that’s a relief. I helped build this house with my father and his father, and I’m happy for Teddy to have it if he wants it. And I think your grandparents would be pleased to know you’re not going to give up The Grove.”
“What were they like?” Beau asked, genuinely curious. “Knowing Aunt Vee’s inclinations, as well as my mother’s, I have to say I can’t imagine them growing up here.”
“They were good people. Fair. And probably a little eccentric,” Hollis said with a far-away look in his eyes, as if he were catching memories and holding on. “I helped out around the property, seeing as they had daughters. Not that they weren’t put to work, because of course they were. But they were very private people. I always suspected they came from money, though. Your grandmother spoke with an accent. Not sure what kind—but it sounded like one of those Slavic tongues.”
Beau thought back to the book, and to some of the recipes he saw there. They were unusual to him, but he would return to it with fresh eyes.
“Were my mother and my aunt happy?”
