A Rogue of Her Own (Windham Brides #4)(66)
Even Sherbourne hadn’t seen that, but neither had Haverford, Radnor, or Jones.
“I hold hands with my marchioness with lovely frequency,” Radnor said, “though seldom in public. Sherbourne has fallen for that red-haired dragoness.”
Haverford felt an odd affection for Charlotte Windham. She was bold, awkward, and—most unexpected—ferociously protective of her new husband. What had Lucas Sherbourne done to deserve such a champion, much less a woman bristling with intelligence and sense?
“That red-haired dragoness is my sister by marriage, Radnor. She and Sherbourne do seem to suit.”
“Unlike Sherbourne and Jones. Did Sherbourne explain to you Jones’s error with the retaining wall?”
Sherbourne and his bride, still hand in hand, disappeared around a bend in the path.
“No explanation yet, and one doesn’t want to ask. Sherbourne is devilish prickly where I am concerned.”
Radnor had been friends with Haverford since they’d been breeched, and now, having married Haverford’s sister, Radnor was family. They had few secrets, though Haverford was prepared for marriage to change their friendship.
“You are devilish prickly where Sherbourne is concerned,” Radnor retorted. “You haven’t any coin invested in this venture, you have no expertise with mining, so what exactly do you think your hovering about accomplishes?”
“I can’t hover about my duchess every hour of the day. The lady needs her rest.”
Radnor punched him on the arm. “Admit you are worried for Sherbourne. Jones isn’t the engineering paragon he presents himself to be, not if he forgets to calculate the weight of rainwater in topsoil when designing a retaining wall.”
Good God. “Is that what went wrong?”
“Charlotte Sherbourne figured it out, and thank the angelic choruses, Sherbourne listens to her. She has good ideas.”
She was also pretty, in a robust, severe way. Elizabeth was prettier, of course. “Mrs. Sherbourne knows as much about mining as I do. If Jones is incompetent, he’ll have to be replaced.”
“He’s probably a decent mining engineer, but no sort of architect. I’ve dabbled in the occasional design project, enough to draw a few elevations.”
“Jones hasn’t?”
Radnor gazed down at the great heap of earth lying atop the planned street. Whole trees had come along with the side of the hill, and were now standing upright a hundred yards from where they’d been last week.
“Jones has never designed a dwelling, or a surface structure of any kind, and did not admit his limitations until they were obvious. He needs this post, I suspect, and I’m making inquiries in Swansea and Cardiff regarding his work history. I also consulted with Glenys regarding Lord Brantford.”
Radnor had been busy, in other words, while Haverford had been…not much help at all. “What did Glenys have to say?”
“Brantford married an heiress, or so he thought. Turns out the woman’s family had put every available groat into her settlements, and their fortunes have continued to decline since she married Brantford.”
These things happened. They’d happened to Haverford’s own family for the past hundred years. “Is Sherbourne supposed to send coin pouring into the earl’s family coffers?”
Radnor’s gaze dropped to his boots, which were wet from tromping about the hilltop. “Sherbourne has a fine grasp of finances, Haverford. I invested in this mine because I’ve made money with him on two previous projects, though I resorted to intermediaries to handle the details.”
“You’re not suggesting I invest in the mine?”
“If you’re not an investor, and you know nothing about mining, then what in blazes are you doing here?” Radnor’s tone was mild, but then, his tone was always mild when he was delivering a coup de grace. Only fools underestimated Cedric Radnor.
Fools and, occasionally, best friends.
“I don’t know, but sometimes a disinterested third party has a useful perspective, witness Charlotte’s opinions about the houses. What do we do about Jones?”
“We watch him closely. Find somebody to review all of his calculations, let Sherbourne know that engineers are employees, not dictators.”
“I can help with that last part. Where has Jones got off to?”
“The coaching inn. Griffin says he’s there rather a lot.”
Griffin had passed that along to Radnor, rather than to his own brother? “I’m off to have a word with Griffin, and I’ll see you tomorrow night. Elizabeth will probably inveigle Glenys into helping with the lending library scheme.”
“Glenys will have to dodge that fire on her own, for Her Grace has already sent out the press gangs after my handsome self.”
Haverford started down the hill. “Do you suppose the climb truly winded Charlotte? She seems a healthy woman.”
“Who knows? Perhaps she was laced too tightly. Sherbourne’s concern was real.”
True, and seeing Lucas Sherbourne in a flat panic over a woman who could literally shoot a man’s arrows out of the sky had relieved an anxiety Haverford didn’t entirely understand.
“Elizabeth loves those lending libraries,” Haverford said, “and they are being established largely because of Sherbourne. If anything happens to him or his fortunes, my duchess will take it amiss.”