The Masterful Mr. Montague Read Online Free PDF

investigator—to ask questions on your behalf and for those I ask such questions of to be authorized to answer as if I were you.”
    Lady Halstead nodded. “I can imagine that will be necessary. Do you know the proper form of such an authority?”
    “Indeed. If you like, I can dictate it for you.” He glanced at Miss Matcham, then looked back at Lady Halstead. “And if at all possible, ma’am, I would prefer the entire letter be in your hand. It’s much less easy to question such a document.”
    “Of course.” Lady Halstead looked at Miss Matcham. “Violet, dear, would you fetch my writing desk?”
    With a nod, Miss Matcham rose and left the room.
    Montague watched her go. Violet . The name suited her.
    “Now,” Lady Halstead said, “Runcorn’s address is . . .”
    Setting the papers on his knee, Montague pulled out his notebook and quickly jotted down the address.
    T wenty minutes later, the required letter of authority in his pocket, along with the copy of the bank account statement, Montague took his leave of Lady Halstead. Violet Matcham walked him to the front door.
    Opening it, she met his gaze. “Thank you. You might not have been able to see it, but she’s already much relieved and more settled—she’s been in a fret ever since she noticed the irregularity in her account a week ago.”
    Montague held her gaze and considered various responses—all of them the truth—but, in the end, settled for a brief bow and “I’m happy to know I’ve already been of some service, however small.” He paused, then, his eyes still on hers, added, “I will get to the bottom of this. If her ladyship starts to grow anxious, please do assure her of that.”
    Violet found it difficult to draw her eyes from his, but, lips curving at her own susceptibility, and because he was as he was, she dipped her head and murmured, “Again, thank you. We’ll wait to hear from you in due course.”
    Montague inclined his head, stepped over the threshold, crossed the porch, and went down the steps.
    She watched him stride away and realized she felt lighter—as if he’d lifted a burden she hadn’t been aware she’d carried on her shoulders. He really was something of a white knight; he’d answered her summons, had ridden in, and had commenced the process of alleviating the trouble besetting Lady Halstead and, therefore, her, too.
    No doubt that was why he left her feeling giddy.
    Smiling again at her unexpected susceptibility, she closed the door and returned to Lady Halstead.
    T hat evening, Lady Halstead hosted a dinner for her family. As she no longer had the strength to visit their homes, she invited them to dine in Lowndes Street once a month, and they all came.
    Every time.
    During her first months with Lady Halstead, Violet had been somewhat surprised that even her ladyship’s three adult grandchildren invariably attended and stayed for the entire evening, but as the months had rolled past, she had realized that among the Halstead children, sibling rivalry had reached astonishing heights; even though said grandchildren might wish to be elsewhere, they had to obey their parents’ commands and show all due observance to their grandmother’s dignity.
    As usual, Violet sat at the table on Lady Halstead’s left, ready to lend assistance if required. The Halstead children, all of whom were also very conscious of their dignity, tolerated her presence because Lady Halstead insisted on it, and, as Violet’s birth was as good as, if not better than, their own, they had no viable excuse to exclude her.
    They did, however, ignore her, which suited Violet. She was immensely grateful not to have to interact with “The Brood” as she, Tilly, and Cook privately termed them. Instead, she kept her lips shut and observed; as an only child, she found the tensions and constant sniping between members of The Brood curious and fascinating in a horrifying sort of way.
    More than once, she’d retired to her room after a Halstead