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The constable sighed. “If you do discover anything pertinent, I want to be informed immediately.”
“I can’t promise that.”
Constable Philmont gave him a baffled look. “May I ask why?”
“If I need to act quickly on the information, I may not have time to seek you out,” Oliver said as he walked towards the door.
“Just promise me that you will try.”
He nodded. “I can do that.”
“Thank you,” the constable replied, “and do try to avoid getting yourself killed. Your wife needs you alive.”
“You need not fret about me.”
“Why do you say that?”
Oliver opened the door and said, “A band of smugglers is something that I am well equipped to handle.”
The constable scoffed. “Pardon me if I find that a little far-fetched, milord.”
“Believe what you will, but I intend to discover who tipped off the smugglers,” he said before he departed from the room.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish that feat yet, but he had confidence he would be able to complete the task.
Chapter Seventeen
Dressed in awhite wrapper, Emmeline sat in her bedchamber as she read her book by the light of the fire in the hearth.
A knock came at the door that divided her bedchamber from Oliver’s.
“Enter,” she ordered.
The door opened, and Oliver stepped into the room with his cravat undone and his shirt hung partially open. “I came to say goodnight.”
She smiled. “Goodnight, Oliver.”
He leaned his shoulder up against the doorframe. “Have you decided what you will do about Lockhart Manor?”
“I have not, but it is not up to me.”
“Why is that?”
“By law, you own Lockhart Manor—”
He cut her off. “Lockhart Manor is yours to do with however you please,” he replied. “I don’t care what the law says.”
“But if I keep Lockhart Manor, we will have to return my dowry,” she said softly.
Oliver pushed off the doorframe and came to sit down next to her. “I married you without a dowry, so I see little difference in returning the money.”
“But fifteen thousand is a small fortune.”
“It is, but you need not worry about your future,” Oliver asserted. “I have sufficient funds for us to live comfortably for the rest of our days.”
Emmeline nibbled her lower lip. “I don’t want to sell Lockhart Manor,” she admitted. “Is that selfish of me?”
“Not at all,” he replied. “Your father left you this property in his will.”
