A Visit From Sir Nicholas by Victoria Alexander Page B

had married her. Don't you agree?"
    "Most certainly," Nick murmured.
    Indeed, the Elizabeth Effington Nick had known wouldn't for a moment appreciate the fact that her husband had not left her in charge of her own fate. Of course, the Elizabeth he'd known had been a far cry from the lighthearted, flighty creature she'd appeared to be to the rest of the world. He'd wondered, on those rare occasions when he'd thought about her at all, if it was his own reserved, serious nature that had brought about the more thoughtful side of her character. Still, how was it that her own husband had not seen what Nick had?
    "She'll be most relieved to know you do not intend to take over." Nick grinned. "No doubt the least I can do."
    "A joke, Sir Nicholas?" Jonathon raised a brow. "You have changed with the years."
    "Come now, Jonathon, I joked." Nick winced with the memory of a far too serious youth. "On occasion."
    "You have, I don't know, mellowed, I think. Like a fine wine or a good cheese."
    "Or an excellent brandy." Nick raised his glass and laughed.
    He had most definitely changed with the passage of time. Life no longer seemed quite as dire, as serious, as urgent as it once had. He was very much a man different from the one who had left here ten years ago. An annoying thought nagged in the back of his mind. Had Elizabeth changed as well?
    Jonathon sobered. "There is, however, something you have not yet seen in the records you've perused that I think you should note."
    "Oh?"
    Jonathon circled to the back of the desk and opened a drawer.
    "I did indeed handle Lizzie's finances in the first months after Charles's death. It was not particularly onerous; his record keeping was surprisingly meticulous." He pulled out a stack of what appeared to be paid bills, receipts, and other documents. "Frankly, anyone with half a brain could have picked up where he left off."
    "He apparently never considered for a moment that his wife might take over, or surely he would have disposed of, or at least hidden"—Jonathon's voice hardened and he dropped the papers on the desk—
    "these."
    "What are they?" Nick rifled through the receipts. "They appear to be nothing more than ordinary bills."
    "Indeed they are. For milliners and dressmakers and butchers and greengrocers."
    "Fairly basic for a household, I should think." Nick shook his head. "I still don't understand."
    "They are not for his household. Or rather Lizzie's household."
    "Not for…" Nick's gaze met Jonathon's, and he blew a long breath. "I see."
    "I didn't believe it at first." Jonathon shook his head. "I realize it is not uncommon for a man to support a mistress, and according to these papers, this had gone on for years. But I did expect better of the man who had married my sister. One of my closest friends. A man who had always claimed to have cared for her since we were children."
    "Charles always was the most charming among us," Nick murmured.
    "The one women always seemed to find irresistible."
    "If he had married anyone else, we would not have found this the least bit surprising." Nick shook his head. "I gather you had no knowledge of this?"
    "I had heard an occasional rumor, just as I have heard rumors about nearly every married man I know, but, as there was never anything of substance, I disregarded them. I realize now I should have confronted Charles, but, blast it all, Nick," Jonathon blew a long breath, "I trusted the man."
    "Did Elizabeth know?"
    "To be honest, I don't know, but I assume not. I can't imagine her allowing such a thing while he was alive, and I made certain she has not seen any of this since his death. Still, her pride is such that if indeed she does know, she might well never say a word."
    "She would prefer the world think she was ignorant as opposed to betrayed," Nick said.
    "You know her rather well." Jonathon studied him curiously.
    Nick ignored the implication. "Not really. But I am observant enough to know the accuracy of your assessment."
    "My initial impulse