Priceless by Christina Dodd Page A

more, no less. If he wished to wreck himself on the rocks of finance, Adam felt no responsibility, only a vast irritation. Northrup worked hard, understood the system, and anticipated Adam’s needs. Toreplace him would be almost impossible. Pointing to the pile of paperwork on his desk, Adam said, “If you’re ready, let’s go to work.”
    Northrup looked around for his chair and saw it beside Adam. He frowned, puzzled, until he retrieved it. Then, with a smile, he said, “Ah, Lady Bronwyn was here.”
    Adam jumped guiltily. “How did you know that?”
    Northrup dusted a pile of silk threads from the seat. “Was she dismantling one of her fans again?”
    “No, I believe it was…an apron of some kind. One of those little garnishes women hang on themselves.” Adam contemplated Northrup. How much did he know about the dauntless Bronwyn? An odd curiosity gripped him, a need to know about his fiancée. Yet should he discuss her with this young man? What protocol governed such a conversation? Northrup no doubt knew, but Adam had never learned the refinements of proper society gossip. Tentatively he asked, “Does she do that often? Dismantle her fans?”
    Northrup laughed. “Haven’t you noticed? When she’s nervous—and that’s almost always in company—she picks at her fan.”
    Precise, scrupulous, Adam insisted, “She wasn’t carrying a fan.”
    “If nothing else, she chews her fingernails. She told me her mother scolds her.”
    “She told you?” Adam asked in astonishment.
    “She’s such a friendly young lady, and we’ve chatted.” Northrup seated himself and uncorked his ink. “Do you have letters you want sent, sir?”
    “I have some figures I want copied and checked.” While searching through the papers before him, Adam asked, “That’s right, you’d seen her at court, hadn’t you?”
    “Lady Bronwyn? Briefly, sir.” Northrup picked up his quill and held it in readiness.
    Something stirred in Adam. “You’re about the same age, aren’t you?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Adam stared at the paper in his hand until the numbers made sense. “Here it is.”
    Northrup accepted the figures.
    “She’s not as plain as she looks.”
    Northrup looked up in surprise. “Sir?”
    Realizing how silly that sounded, Adam said, “What I mean is, Lady Bronwyn has pretty eyes.”
    “I quite agree.” When Adam said nothing else, Northrup went back to work.
    Adam gazed out the window at the sculptured gardens until Northrup’s words sank in. “You agree, do you?”
    The quill scratched across the sheet. “Yes, sir. And I like her smile. She has dimples.”
    “A dimple,” Adam corrected. “In her left cheek.”
    “Ah, of course…. These columns are correct.” Northrup passed the paper back.
    “Add these, if you would.” Adam pushed another sheet across the wide desktop. Tapping his fingers, he said worriedly, “If she’s not careful, she’ll get the reputation of a learned woman.”
    “A dreadful thought.” Northrup shuddered with genuine revulsion. “Is there anything worse than a learned woman?”
    “It’s not so dreadful,” Adam objected quickly, then blinked. How odd. He wanted to defend Bronwyn, the woman he had been treating so rudely. Northrup’s incredulous stare made him add, “At least a man can talk to her.”
    Northrup gave up any pretense of working. “Lady Bronwyn? Yes, I’ve always been able to talk to her. She’s one of the kindest women I’ve ever met.”
    “Kind? I don’t know about kind.”
    “You’ve been avoiding her. How could you know?” Northrup asked.
    “Getting daring, aren’t you?” Northrup refused to apologize, and Adam smiled with grim appreciation. “You’re right, of course. I’ve been sulking like a man unable to make the best of a situation, when that quality is one I’ve always prided myself on. Well, that will change. From now on, I’ll court Lady Bronwyn with all the finesse a young woman could wish for.”
    “Good for you, sir,”