Part 19 (1/2)

As if on cue, a knock sounded on the paneled door. The butler announced, ”Mr. Christopher.”

Mr. Christopher, a short, balding man wearing gold wire spectacles, entered the room. For all his lack of

physical stature, he was one of the most respected men of business in London. His presence rea.s.sured

Brenn. Neil Hamlin might be a bit of a loose fish, but not when it came to money.

Without fanfare, Mr. Christopher quickly drew out the marriage contracts. ”I believe everything is in order as we discussed, my lord,” he said to Brenn.

Brenn reviewed the doc.u.ments, aware that Christopher had pointedly ignored Hamlin. Hamlin seemed

unaware of the snub.

Everything appeared to be as agreed to in the contracts-although no mention was made of an exact monetary accounting of the marriage settlements. Brenn tapped the doc.u.ment thoughtfully with his finger, debating whether or not to push the issue.

He decided to push.

”I notice there is no mention of the marriage settlements.” He looked expectantly to Mr. Christopher.

Mr. Christopher met his gaze with a level one of his own. ”Mr. Hamlin personally oversees his sister's

affairs.”

Brenn sensed that Mr. Christopher was discreetly telling him something. He turned. Hamlin still stood next to the liquor cabinet, one hand wrapped around the neck of a decanter as if holding it for support.

Realizing he must give an answer, Hamlin shrugged. ”Let us finish the contracts and then I'll discuss Tess'

s affairs afterward. I'm willing to answer all of your questions.””But shouldn't a monetary figure be stated in the contract?” Brenn asked.

Hamlin dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. ”You receive it all. Of course, it's invested. Finish

with Christopher and then we'll go over it.”Brenn glanced at Mr. Christopher but no opinion showed on the man's carefully schooled features.Looking down at the cramped writing covering the contract, Brenn decided his reservations weregroundless. After all, it was common knowledge that Tess was an heiress.

Dipping the pen in ink, he scratched his name at the bottom of all four copies. Two were for himself, one

for Hamlin, one for Mr. Christopher as the Hamlin family executor.

Hamlin wobbled forward and signed his name. Mr. Christopher served as witness. With the fastidiousness inherent to his business, Mr. Christopher then sanded the signatures and rolled the doc.u.ments into scrolls. ”Do you wish to take your copies of the doc.u.ment with you, my lord?”

”I'll take one. Have the other delivered to Rupert Goining on Beckon Road,” Brenn said. ”He's my man.”

”Ah, I think well of Mr. Goining,” Mr. Christopher said.

”He speaks highly of you also.”

”I shall see it delivered to him. Now, if our business is concluded, I shall take my leave.”

”Yes, yes,” Hamlin quickly interjected. ”You are free to go, Christopher. I'll be round to see you next Tuesday as usual.”

”Yes, sir.” Christopher paused by the door. ”May I again offer my congratulations, Lord Merton? Your

wife is a singularly lovely and gracious woman.”

Obviously the man had never been on the sharp end of Tess's tongue. Brenn smiled with genuine amus.e.m.e.nt. ”Thank you, Mr. Christopher.”

The accountant hesitated as if he had something else he wished to say.

”Yes?” Brenn prompted. The man was a financial genius. Brenn wanted to hear his opinions.

Mr. Christopher glanced at Hamlin. A small crease of disapproval appeared on his forehead, but when

he s.h.i.+fted his gaze back to Brenn, his decision to leave well enough alone was plainly written on his face.

”I wish you all the best, my lord.” Mr. Christopher left the room.

Brenn had the premonition that Mr. Christopher had wanted to warn him about something. He stared at the door the accountant had just used.

”That man's a cold fish,” Hamlin declared. ”Drink to your health, Merton? And to a safe journey?”