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She Found a Letter Addressed to Him Among the Others — Until He Whispered, "This Is Impossible"

She Found a Letter Addressed to Him Among the Others — Until He Whispered, "This Is Impossible"

Chapter 30

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But it was the handwriting that made her breath catch. It was a masculine hand, sharp and aggressive, the ink pressed so deeply into the paper that it had almost torn the surface. The direction read: To Lady Agatha Rokesby, presently at Dunmere Court, Wiltshire.Clara knew that hand. She had seen it three days ago, on a promissory note mixed in with the late Viscount's legal files regarding London properties. It belonged to Mr. Silas Thorne. The very man who, she remembered from the estate records, operated highly questionable, high-interest lending houses in the darker corners of Mayfair.A heavy, urgent letter from a notorious moneylender, sent to a woman who boasted of her aristocratic superiority.Clara picked up the letter and weighed it in her palm. It was thick. Not a polite reminder, but a detailed accounting. The heavy black seal spoke of finality. A threat."Clara?"Adrian had lowered his newspaper. He was watching her, his grey eyes observant. "You have that look. The one that means you have just read an entire tragic novel in the fold of a single piece of paper."Clara looked at the letter, and then at her husband. She thought of Lady Agatha’s sharp, cruel words the night before, designed to wound Eleanor, designed to make Clara feel small. It would be so easy to put the letter on the silver tray, hand it to the butler, and let the proud, nasty woman receive her ruin in the privacy of her guest room.But Clara was not a woman who believed in unnecessary cruelty, not even for her enemies."Adrian," she said softly. "How much of the unentailed capital in the London accounts did we set aside for charitable investments this quarter?"He raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in her tone. "Perhaps a thousand pounds. Why?"Clara stood up, taking the cream-colored letter with her. "Because I believe Lady Agatha is in desperate need of a loan, and I would very much prefer she be in debt to the Dunmere estate than to the wolves of Mayfair."Adrian stared at her for a long moment. He looked at the letter in her hand, then up to her face, a slow realization dawning in his eyes. He stood, setting the newspaper aside, a smile of profound, reverent awe breaking across his features."You," he said, walking toward her, "are a terrifying creature, Clara Ravensdale.""I am an accountant, my lord," Clara murmured, smiling up at him. "And I prefer my ledgers to balance. Shall we go and pay a call on your cousin?"Adrian offered her his arm, his eyes bright with a fierce, loving pride. "Lead the way, my lady. I would not miss this for the world."
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She Found a Letter Addressed to Him Among the Others — Until He Whispered, "This Is Impossible"

30 Part