But still, if Gareth had learned one thing over the years, it was that his grandmother was a shrewd judge of character. And besides, the diary was written in Italian. Even if it did contain some indiscreet secret, Miss Bridgerton would hardly know.
His decision made, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the book.
Chapter 4
At which point Hyacinth’s life finally becomes almost as exciting as Priscilla Butterworth’s. Minus the cliffs, of course…
Hyacinth watched with interest as Mr. St. Clair appeared to hesitate. He glanced over at her, his clear blue eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly before he turned back to his grandmother. Hyacinth tried not to look too interested; he was obviously trying to decide if he should mention his business in her presence, and she suspected that any interference on her part would cause him to keep his counsel.
But apparently she passed muster, because after a brief moment of silence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a small, leather-bound book.
“What is this?” Lady Danbury asked, taking it into her hands.
“Grandmother St. Clair’s diary,” he replied. “Caroline brought it over this afternoon. She found it among George’s effects.”
“It’s in Italian,” Lady D said.
“Yes, I was aware.”
“I meant, why did you bring it to me?” she asked, somewhat impatiently.
Mr. St. Clair gave her a lazy half smile. “You are always telling me you know everything, or if not everything, then everyone.”