He couldn’t believe he was actually going to do it. He was an earl, properly raised, more educated than most, and never in his life had he felt so uncomfortable about making a request. No other man alive would even consider what he was about to ask of his new wife.

Brent sat at his desk, arms resting on each side of his ledger as he slowly thumbed through the pages, waiting for Caroline, who had said she’d meet him shortly. It had taken him several days of work to understand clearly what Reggie had done with the money and wealth he’d had before leaving for the Continent. After working through the numbers several times, he wanted to be sure of what he’d found.

“I’m sorry I took so long but I needed to…um…find a hair ribbon.”

At the sound of her deep, sultry voice, he quickly raised his eyes to the doorway. Caroline stood against it, wearing a silk lime-green day gown with a low rounded neckline, which more than adequately revealed her abundant cleavage. Her dark hair was loosely tied at her nape while soft curls framed her cheeks, now flushed and dewy soft from the warmth of a bath. It stirred his blood to see her so, for every time he looked at her she was lovelier than the last. And seemingly further out of reach.

He quickly looked back to his ledger. “You’ll wear your hair like that from this moment on.”

“So you’ve demanded,” she said rather loudly, slowly moving toward him. After a long, still moment, she asked sheepishly, “Do you think you could tell me what happened here, Brent?”

He glanced at her, puzzled.

She looked around and opened her arms wide. “I mean Miramont. What happened?”

He drew a full breath and sat back heavily in his chair. “I thought Davis or Nedda would have told you.”

She shrugged. “They’ve told me nothing.”

He kept his eyes locked with hers, his features neutral. “I left for the Continent several months ago to do some work for the Crown, leaving Miramont in the care of my cousin, Reginald Kent. I had every intention of returning last spring, but without warning I was forced to stay in France. When I returned last month, I discovered that my cousin had sold everything I owned, without my knowledge or approval, to pay his gambling debts.”

“Why were you in France?” she mildly asked.

Almost impatiently, he replied, “I was with the Duke of Wellington fighting Napoleon Bonaparte at Waterloo.”

Caroline’s eyes opened wide with surprise. He’d said the words so matter-of-factly, with so little feeling, that if she hadn’t been watching she would have missed how his expression betrayed his composure. It had changed just enough for her to notice the slightest trace of well-hidden pain, and he tightened his jaw to keep that emotion in check.

Now she understood why he’d appeared so thin and haunted when they’d first met, his underlying anger, why his manner was so direct. Her new husband had been at war, and she could think of nothing to say in response to his statement.

Quickly he straightened and stood, lowering his gaze to his desk, once again casual, composed. “I need you to look at this.”

“Of course,” she murmured without thinking, slowly walking to stand beside him.

“I’d like you to glance over these numbers to see if I’ve made any mistakes in my calculations, Caroline.”

She blinked quickly several times. “I beg your pardon?”

He smiled faintly. “I’d appreciate a level head other than my own to check these figures once more, since I need to know the exact status of my accounts before I leave. Not only do we need servants, but I’d like to start refurnishing Miramont as well.”

She was stunned. “You—you’re asking me to look through your finances?”

He lowered his voice and leaned very close to her. “Technically I suppose they’re your finances, too.”

Caroline absolutely could not believe that he was asking this of her, and were it not for the fact that he was practically thrusting the ledger into her hands, she would have never believed his request.

“Are you sure?” She glanced to his face, now only inches from hers, hoping to God he wasn’t toying with her, for a joke like this would crush her spirit.

He stepped aside and ushered her to his desk.

“Go ahead, Caroline,” he insisted, gently pushing her into his chair. He took a pen from the inkwell, placed it in her hands, then swiftly moved to take the seat across from her to watch through narrowed eyes.

Suddenly Caroline knew this was a huge, complicated, chance-of-a-lifetime test of her abilities, and strangely, she wanted to impress. Slowly she lowered her eyes to the paper in front of her.

Brent observed her closely as she hesitantly started to work. She turned the pages quickly, moving through the ledger with such incredible speed that for a while he was convinced she wasn’t taking him seriously. But as he watched her chew her bottom lip, her face contorting with furious thinking, he realized this was something she actually enjoyed doing, and she hadn’t used the pen even once. She was calculating mathematical equations and multiplying several large numbers using nothing but her mind. It was truly unbelievable.

Finally she looked up, eyes sparkling. “You’ve made a ghastly mistake, Brent,” she whispered. Then she started to giggle.

That irritated him. “If it’s such a ghastly mistake, why are you laughing?”

She sobered a little. “Look what you’ve done here.”

She motioned for him to move closer, and he slowly stood and walked around to her side of the desk.

“See right here? You multiplied by three instead of three hundred. You didn’t carry your zeros, silly man.” She met his eyes, her lips curled up in delight. “I think we have quite a bit more money than you first thought.”

He looked at her sharply. “You discovered this using only your head?”

The smile died on her face. “It just comes naturally to me,” she said cautiously.

He was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “It has never come naturally to me. I don’t trust bailiffs, and taking care of the books has always been my least favorite chore. From this moment on, I’d like you to see to it. Naturally, I’ll need to continue dealing with my banker regarding payments made on my accounts, but I’d like you to keep track of the money. You’ve a marvelous talent, Caroline. It should be used.”

She blinked, incredulous. “You mean permanently? Month to month?”

“Of course I mean permanently, and I’ll need you to start right away. I’ve almost completed repairs on the stables, but some of the weather damage inside was greater than anticipated. I’ll need to know the exact amount I can spend to get things running smoothly, since I’d like to start breeding again next season.”

She shook her head, dazed. “Breeding…horses?”

He looked at her strangely. “It’s what I do, Caroline. I breed, show, and sell Arabian horses. I don’t have the time or patience to keep my finances in line, so I’d like it to be one of your duties.” He paused. “Do you mind?”

Slowly she smiled in wonder. “You trust me with this?”

He touched the back of his hand to her cheek and grinned devilishly. “If I didn’t think you could do it, I wouldn’t have asked. And besides, if you did try to abscond with all the money, I’d find you sidetracked at my neighbor’s house pruning his petunias, which are now to the point of overrunning the property.”

Caroline thought she might explode from elation. He believed in and trusted her abilities. No one, not even her father, had ever done that before.

“I’d be delighted to take this tedious chore off your hands,” she finally acknowledged in a voice filled with joy.

“Good.”

He turned, but before he could move, she grabbed his arm, pulled herself up, and with only the briefest hesitation, wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

He reached up with his palm to stroke the silkiness of her hair, but before he could even think to embrace her, and without looking at him, she quickly pushed herself away and returned to the chair.

He stood silently, watching the side of her face for another minute, then turned and walked to the door.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” he softly said.

Caroline, however, was oblivious to everything but the financial computations in front of her.