Trials of Artemis (19 page)

The
men entered discussing politics again. Justin said, "But what if the
entire purpose of Rutledge's vote is to call out Lexington's opinion since
Rutledge has two years before his reelection while Lexington has to explain his
actions to his voters now?"

Seeing
Jack sitting at the table Gideon came over to kiss her cheek before sitting.
"It seems your young Mr. Miller is quite well educated for a man who
hasn't ever gone to school."

Justin
flushed at the odd combination of compliment and set-down that the earl's
comment embodied and took his own seat. Jack tried not to let her hackles rise
at Gideon upsetting her friend and said mildly, "Yes, we always tried to
make sure he received the best of our instruction."

"That
might explain it, then. I always felt that at least half of our instructors
were drawn to the profession due to their sadistic intent towards boys.
However, why is it that the viscount never sent Mr. Miller to school? It seems
oddly remiss of him.”

Jack
crumbled some toast in her fingers and flitted her gaze past Justin, who seemed
diligently absorbed in cutting his ham.

"I
already asked Mr. Miller himself," Gideon pressed, "and he seemed
quite uninformed on the topic. Perhaps you have some insight?"

"I'm
sure it never occurred to him to do so."

"How
can it not occur to you do to so? The list of duties to one's... other children
is quite short but I'm fairly certain that the list includes preparing them for
a livelihood."

Jack
looked at her husband speculatively, wondering if he had any by-blows she would
come to learn about. "To the best of my knowledge, the viscount has never
spoken to Justin nor, perhaps, even thought about him. Justin hasn’t as much
been recognized as ignored and allowed to live at the estate. Perhaps we could
find something else to talk about?"

"He
spoke to me once," Justin said softly, still focused rather intently on
his plate.

"When?"
Jack blurted before she could stop herself. It didn't seem a memory that Justin
treasured.

"Before
they left for Charlie's tour. Sabre had..." Justin gave a deep sigh,
distressed by the memory. "Sabre had asked that I be allowed to join them.
The viscount came to me to see if I had asked her to do that, which I
hadn't."

"Of
course not," Jack said loyally, "you would never presume."

Justin
nodded, now absorbed in pushing small bits of ham with his fork. "He said
that... he said that I was nothing and should learn to be content with such a lot
in life. That I was lucky he allowed me to be a servant in his home and I was
old enough to put myself to better use in the stables. You see, my lord,"
Justin gave the earl a wry smile, "the viscount undoubtedly believes he
has prepared me for my livelihood."

Jack's
heart broke, both at the words the viscount had said and the brave face that
this young man put on about a scene that must have pulled his own heart out by
the roots. "Oh Justin!" she cried, jumping up and racing around the
table to throw her arms around his shoulders. The sympathy was his undoing and,
covering his face with his hands, he sobbed under her embrace.

Gideon
realized he was sitting with a forkful of egg halfway to his mouth and finally
set it down. He was not used to outbursts of emotion at his breakfast table,
certainly, but it was also the shock of what the viscount had said. The boy was
intelligent, well educated, and well mannered, yet Bittlesworth expected him to
work in the stable? And be glad of it? More shocking still was that the lad
seemed to accept it.

He
also, he noticed, wasn't as irritated by his wife's affection for the boy as he
had been. She truly did seem sisterly, and sometimes even motherly, when it
came to Mr. Miller. As the boy’s sobs subsided she patted his shoulder, kissed
him on the head, and pushed a linen napkin into his hands. She took her own
seat with a brisk efficiency, looking a bit red-eyed herself but wanting to
move them past this episode with the minimum of fuss. Justin wiped his face and
set to cutting more of the food on his plate although nothing seemed to be
going into his mouth.

"How
do you like London, Mr. Miller?" Gideon asked.

"I've
never been there, my lord," he said, still staring at his placesetting.

"Well,
there may be something better than the stables for you there. I'm in need of a
clerk."

The
young man looked up at him with such a surge of hope and gratitude that Gideon
almost backed away from him.

"I'm
at your service, my lord," the young man said quickly.

Blast
it all, this
was
another puppy dog.
To change the subject Gideon gestured to the paper lying folded on the table.
"You haven't read the newspaper yet this morning, my dear?"

"I
usually enjoy our morning conversations. We can read it in your study afterwards.
Besides… I wouldn't want to risk your respiration," she added with a
surreptitious nod to Dibbs.

Gideon
had to suppress a chuckle as the butler tried to assess whether the countess
had been signaling for him.

As
of this moment Jack was completely and totally in love with her husband. He
would do something later to irritate her, she had no doubt, but as of this
moment he was the most wonderful, amazing man of her acquaintance. Offering
Justin a clerkship as though it were completely natural to do so! She
understood the quiet and reverent devotion of his servants now. Somehow he
always knew the thing to do to put everything to rights.

Gideon
checked his watch and addressed Justin. "Perhaps you can come to my study
at ten o'clock to begin reviewing papers you will need to understand. That will
give the countess and I time to read our newspaper."

Jack
jumped up from the table and handed the newspaper to her husband. "I'll be
to the study in just a moment," she said. "If you gentlemen will
excuse me?"

They
both stood and bowed as she dashed out of the dining room and up the stairs.
She wanted to write a quick note to Sabre and George about Justin's turn of
fortune. Since Sabre had instructed her to send correspondence by way of Robert
now anyway instead of the viscount's London address, which as she thought about
it seemed odd, she wrote a short cover letter to Robert as well. "Am
delighted to inform you that Justin Miller has accepted a clerkship with my
husband, Earl of Harrington." Although it felt odd and gave her pause, she
signed the letter "Lady Harrington." Then below that she scribbled
"Jack."

She
was back downstairs and entering her husband's study in less than ten minutes,
carrying the letters that he would need to frank for delivery. He was seated at
his desk and had already pulled the newspaper apart, his head buried in the
foreign news section. Seeing her he stood but she waved him back to his seat.

"The
society pages are right there," he said, nodding to a section he had set
on the edge of his desk.

Jack
wrinkled her nose. "I don't read the society pages."

He
looked over his paper and raised a brow at her. "Then how did we come to
be married?" he teased.

"My
mother reads the society pages, if you must know. And in our case even if both
of us were blithely ignorant of the pages our fate would have become clear in
short enough time."

"True
enough. What section do you want, then?"

She
rifled through the stack in front of him. "The financials, if you don't
mind. Ah, here they are."

She
pulled out the thin section with tiny columns of numbers and went over to the
couch.

"What
on earth do you do with the financials?"

"Check
on my investments, dear. What do you do with them?"

"You
have investments?"

"Technically
they are my father's investments."

"Your
father allows you to invest his money?"

Jack
set down the paper in her lap. "Since this is apparently very difficult for
you, I will assure you that I don't invest
all
of father's money. Although I do think he follows my investments fairly
closely now."

"How
much does he allow you to invest?"

"I
started with fifty pounds when I was twelve and have it up over two hundred
now. Well, at least as of three weeks ago. I haven't checked my investments
since we left London."

"How
old are you?"

"You
don't know? I’ll be nineteen this year."

"But
that's... the average rate of return must be..."

"Over
twenty percent per year, yes."

"That's
remarkable."

"Thank
you. Although it’s become much easier in the last two years.”

“Oh,
and how is that?”

“Now
I primarily follow the company W.T. Investments,” she murmured, becoming
distracted by the information in the paper in front of her.

“Indeed?”

“Yes.
This time I’ve tried to anticipate them and made a gamble that they are going
to acquire the Jones-Berry mining concern in Cornwall but haven’t seen yet if I
was correct.”

“You
were correct.”

Jack
looked up in interest. “Oh, you follow them as well?”

“They
have been very successful.”

“Yes
they have,” she said, smiling in satisfaction, “and by anticipating this
acquisition I have positioned myself to make an even tidier sum than usual.”

“If
I may ask, how did you surmise they would make this purchase?”

She
set the paper down for a moment, warming to a favorite topic that few people
wanted to talk to her about. “It was about three years ago that I began to
notice W.T. Investments. At first I thought that they were merely excellent
investors but it soon became clear that they purchased majority interest in
companies that were in need of management improvement. Based on the results I
assume they use their majority position to force specific remedies.”

“But
how did you know they would purchase this mine?”

“I
ran across an article on the mine and thought that it fit the profile of
previous W.T. acquisitions.” She counted the items off with her fingers. “In a
cash poor position, running losses for more than three years, likely to be
quite profitable with proper management since the vein seems far from played
out, and, the clincher as far as I was concerned, reported abuses of the
workers.”

Gideon
sat back in his chair. “You arrived at this by reading one article?”

She
shrugged. “Or perhaps by reading many articles and noticing a particular
pattern. I’ve become more interested in both speculation and long-term
investments. Since it has worked out, this prediction allowed me to do both. It
will be at least two years before the stocks turn a profit.”

“When
your father gave you those fifty pounds he created a monster, didn’t he?”

She
laughed. “Perhaps. It’s diverting and probably something he wanted me to do
instead of racing curricles. He gave Sam fifty pounds to invest when she turned
twelve but I think she's lost it all now. I'm not sure as she won't talk to me
about it."

"If
she were wise she would have had you invest it as her financial advisor."

Jack
looked at her husband in surprise at his compliment. He seemed at ease behind
his desk, not aware that he had said something at all unusual. She searched her
mind to pick the thread of the conversation back up. "My little sister can
be surprisingly stubborn when it comes to certain things. She wanted to follow
her heart, not the advice of her analytical older sister."

"And
her heart proved fallible?"

"Don't
they all?” Jack asked.

Gideon
laughed. "My wife seems cynical for one so young."

Jack
set her paper down again. "I'm observant. When you observe the human
condition you can't help but to notice patterns."

"And
what other patterns have you seen?"

"Some
men engage their wives in conversation just to stare at their bosoms," she
said tartly, snapping the paper back up in front of her. Hiding behind the
columns of numbers she smiled in delight that her husband was looking at her
with such interest.

"In
my defense,” he said, his voice lowering, “that's a very fetching dress."

"I'm
glad you like it," she said from behind the paper.

"And
you were breathing."

She
peeked over the top of the paper. "I'm likely to do that for the rest of
my life so you had best get used to it, or you'll find yourself ogling me at
dinner parties."

"I
thought you didn't like dinner parties."

She
laughed. "Beside the point."

"And
what happened to your fear of losing me?" he said, his voice plaintive.

At
that she laughed even more. Setting his paper aside, he crossed to join her on
the couch. "I see, it's funny now is it? I'll give you something to laugh
about." He carried out his threat by tickling her sides until she shrieked
and squirmed completely off the furniture and onto the floor. He followed her
down, stretching his length atop hers and brushing her hair back from her
flushed cheeks. "See what comes of laughing at me?"