Chapter Eleven
“—and then Baron Franklin turned to me and asked, ‘where is the Captain?’” Cooper spoke through gritted teeth. “And where was the Captain? Hiding out in his bedchamber!”
As if he were a lad who had missed curfew, Cooper continued to lecture him while they made their way to Seth’s bedchamber.
From his tone, Cooper hadn’t had his second cup of coffee yet, but Seth had none, and his mood soured with each step away from the library.
In equal measure, he was both furious and glad that Cooper had come along and interrupted him.
Furious, because there was no mistaking the desire in Cassandra’s eyes.
The image of her parted lips burned into his mind.
She wanted him to kiss her. And he would.
Oh, how he would. Absently in his pocket, he rubbed his thumb over the edges of her letter—the same thumb that had teased across her lips when she said please.
It didn’t matter that her affections might have fallen somewhere else before, because from then on, he would make damned sure they were his.
And glad, because he wanted to earn those affections fairly.
Given the circumstance, Cooper stumbling into them was the best he could have hoped for, especially given his impeccable timing.
Anyone else would have seen the two of them alone in a dimly lit library before dawn, improperly dressed, hair askew, and reached an understandably different conclusion.
Cooper didn’t suspect Seth of any foul-play—he trusted him—and here he was on the verge of kissing Cassandra between the bookshelves, potentially compromising her, and that wouldn’t do.
Seth didn’t want to force Cassandra into marrying him because of a scandal and ruin his friendship with Cooper. He wanted her to choose him. The right way. He was determined to take his time and woo her properly, how she deserved. But to court her, he needed Cooper’s approval.
“All night fielding questions! Alone!”
Well.
He certainly didn’t have it now.
Throughout his skull, occasional zaps of lightning bounced around, a plea from his brain to close his eyes and surrender to sleep. Flashes of light radiated behind his eyelids, and every complaint that Cooper threw at him aggravated the dull, static throbbing in his temples.
“I get it,” Seth grumbled.
“I don’t think you do,” Cooper accused. “We’re a team, I need you to be with me in this. We have seven days left! Winning one round doesn’t mean we’re in the clear. I forbid you from hiding out again. If you’re in your room, you’re sleeping. Any other time you’re with me.”
“You can’t forbid me from doing anything,” Seth snapped, unable to check his tone, “and you can’t order me around.”
“Our contract says otherwise.” Cooper’s lips closed in a firm line.
So that’s how it’s going to be.
“Yes, my lord.”
They stopped in front of a canary colored sitting room and Cooper faced him with hands clenched as if he were fighting the urge to shake him.
“With as much brooding as you’re doing you may as well be a Hollingsworth!
” Cooper ignored Seth’s indignant glare.
“I know you hate it. The crowds. The manor. Lord Bolderwood, Bishop, the world. Get over it! Deal with it later. We have to win. You may be free to do as you please, but I have people that depend on me, tenants, staff,” pointedly, he said, “sisters.”
A pang of guilt gnawed at Seth, and his shoulders sagged.
“I know.” Seth met his friend’s stern expression with an apologetic one of his own. “I’ll toe the line from here on.”
“Good.” Cooper huffed and continued walking. “Because I don’t have a steel trap for a mind, and when potential investors have questions, they should be answered in a timely manner.”
Seth tripped over his slippers, recovering with a small skip.
“Investors?
“Mr. Sander’s son—“
“The solicitor?”
“Yes. Well. No. I don’t think he’s a solicitor,” Cooper said. “He might be a scout.”
“What kind of scout?”
“I’m not sure.” Cooper furrowed his brows. Bedchamber doors opened as guests flittered into the hallway, taking in Seth’s state of undress with unmasked revulsion. Cooper lowered his voice. “There’s something odd about him, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t.” Seth hated when Cooper tried to lead him to conclusions the long way.
“Mr. Hughes wasn’t invited, so why would Lord Bolderwood bring his own solicitor?
I believe that Sander’s son is a guest. He sits with us at the table for each meal, but nobody knows who he is.
Half of the people I spoke to didn’t even know he existed.
He blends in with the scenery, appearing and disappearing like Caroline. ”
Seth considered the day before. The man followed Duke Kendall around, taking notes.
Now that he had time to sort through events, he recalled moments where the tan-dressed man seemed to act independently, perhaps taking too much interest in the accompaniments, the telescope especially, but he also asked questions concerning the cartridges and was interested in materials and the cost of production, but Seth assumed that was for Lord Bolderwood’s own records.
“Please get to your point.”
“I think he’s here on behalf of the War Department, or perhaps some other manufacturer,” Cooper said. “I want to find out which it is.”
“You shouldn’t read too much into it. We’re all here on behalf of the War Department.
Lord Bolderwood runs it.” Seth rolled his shoulders until he felt a pop.
His left ankle twinged with pinpricks of pain, having twisted underneath him when Cassandra fell on top of him.
Worth it. “The Earl has a wide range of acquaintances and a habit of taking in strays. Who’s to say what his motivations are? ”
“I’m going to talk to him,” Cooper said, leaving no room for argument. “You’ll be there when I do.”
“All right.” Seth nodded, not wanting to fracture the fragile truce between them. “I’ll need coffee.”
“We’ll get you an entire pot,” Cooper assured him with a grin. “Maybe even two!”
They stopped in front of Seth’s door and he brought forth the key from his pocket—the one that didn’t have Cassandra’s letter.
“Which bedchamber is my sister’s?” Cooper asked.
Seth pointed to it.
“Wow, she’s right next door.” Cooper snickered. “I bet that’s driving her mad.”
It was driving him mad.
Seth unlocked his door and stepped into his bedchamber, Cooper at his heels.
The drawn drapes darkened the room and cast shadows on a collection of dinner and tea trays that accumulated during his self-imposed isolation. The plates and flatware clinked as he nudged a dinner tray out of his way with his foot to make space for Cooper.
Two days’ worth of clothes lay rumpled and in a disorderly pile in a corner of the room.
Scraps of parchment shrouded the desk, some crumpled into balls and thrown, some retrieved and flattened out when he thought better of it.
Seth placed the book he borrowed from the library in the middle of the desk.
His bed was perfectly made. Seth couldn’t bring himself to look at it, let alone lie in it. He had considered sleeping on the floor, but decided against it. It didn’t matter where he slept, he wouldn’t find rest here. Not with ghosts in his armoire and the woman he loved in the room next door.
Perhaps he would take Sabre and a bedroll and camp outside tonight.
“What a mess.” Cooper whistled. “Normally you’re the tidy one. Open a window at least.”
Cooper cast open the drapes, illuminating the room with the bright white light of morning. Squinting against the violation, Seth moved to the washstand.
“Be my guest.”
Cooper tugged at the metal bars in the window, frowning when they didn’t budge.
“Small wonder you spent your summers with us.”
Seth often wondered what the elder Viscount Cooper said to bend the Earl’s ears enough to loosen the grip on his reins.
Whatever it was, Lord Bolderwood had allowed Seth to spend his summers fishing, playing, helping in a kitchen, and being part of a family.
Two months of a normal childhood a year, and back to training.
Summers with the Coopers kept him sane. Now that he was older, Seth suspected that was the entire point.
So much for that.
He poured water from a pitcher, washed his face, and brushed his teeth. Another reason he was glad to be interrupted earlier. While he readied himself, Cooper sorted through the stack of papers on the desk, opening the drawers with mild curiosity.
“Where’s The Bible?”
The Bible being the collection of drawings and schematics for each component of the rifle and telescope, financial ledgers, inventory of supplies used, and a copy of their contract.
Everything they would need to present to a potential buyer should they run into one.
They flipped through the folio with Duke Kendall yesterday, and Seth took it for safekeeping.
Without their work being patented and the increasing interest in the telescope, there was a significant risk of theft.
Toothbrush in his mouth, Seth opened his armoire and unlocked a hidden latch far in the back. A flap of wood popped open, and he removed the folio before closing the compartment with a click.
If the hidden compartment surprised Cooper, he made no outward response.
He took the folio and turned to give Seth privacy, perusing the schematics as Seth dressed.
The sound of moving paper and rustling fabric filled the silence.
When Seth finished and stood in front of the mirror, Cooper turned to him.
“You look like you’re on death’s doorstep,” Cooper said. “A wash and a shave won’t fix that, but you know what will?”
“No.”
“Sun and exercise! I’m sure your horse will appreciate it as well.” Cooper closed the folio with a clap and set it on the table. “After we lose the style competition you’re going to show me the best hunting spots on the estate so we’re prepared for tomorrow.”