David shook himself out of his reverie. Tonight, he had plans. It was about time that he lightened the mood, and Jeremy experienced a little of what London had to offer. He went in search of him in the small parlour, but it was deserted. Eventually he located him in the kitchen sitting with Mrs. Crawford at the big table, drinking tea and eating a plate of biscuits and discussing feathers, of all things. He hesitated in the doorway for a moment, and then quietly left them to it. He headed for the study and secured a packet of money in his safe until he could take it to the bank. The money from the liberation of the goods from the Fallows house. There was still the wretched Framling pearls to be disposed of. They sat like an albatross about his neck, waiting until Spencer could make the tri
