Ten minutes later, Rowan was sitting behind his desk. The ledger was open before him. He was carefully copying specific dates and names onto a fresh sheet of parchment, preparing his evidence to send along with the summoning letter.
A sharp knock came on the door.
"Enter," Rowan commanded, not looking up from his writing.
Mr. Simmons entered the study. He walked across the rug and stopped in front of the desk, standing perfectly straight.
"Your Grace," Simmons announced clearly. "Miss Flora has been settled into the guest chamber. The maids are preparing a hot bath and a tray of food for her. Everything is ready."
Rowan stopped writing. He placed his quill back into the silver inkstand. He looked up at his trusted butler.
"Good," Rowan spoke, his voice crisp and completely business-like. "Now, we have urgent matters outside this house."
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk.
