The Pursuits of Lord Kit Cavanaugh (The Cavanaughs #2) - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,1

time he did the same—that it was time he made a start on assembling the various elements of the life he wanted for his own.

He wanted to build ocean-going yachts. More—he aspired to be the pre-eminent force in the evolving field. In the same way that dealing with investments played to Rand’s strengths and interests, Kit felt that yacht-building would make the most of his longtime obsession with all things sailing and his ability to lead men and act as manager, facilitator, and negotiator.

He was good with his hands, and he was good with his head. He always had been.

When Rand had announced his engagement, Kit had been on his way to Bermuda, chasing down Wayland Cobworth. Wayland was an old friend of Kit’s from Eton days who shared his passion for superbly designed sailing vessels; coming from a significantly less wealthy family than the Cavanaughs, instead of going to university, Wayland had apprenticed to an expert draftsman and ship-designer and was now one of the up-and-coming designers of yachts.

Wayland knew the quality of Kit’s determination—that when he set his sights on achieving some goal, that goal would be achieved; convincing Wayland of Kit’s vision for Cavanaugh Yachts and of the desirability of Wayland’s potential position in the company hadn’t been all that hard.

Kit had had to take ship back to England almost immediately in order not to miss Rand’s wedding; he’d made it, but with only minutes to spare. Wayland had had to finish a design for the company he’d been working for before heading back to England, sailing directly to Bristol.

“It’s bigger than I’d thought,” Smiggs, Kit’s groom-cum-stableman, observed, breaking through Kit’s introspection.

Smiggs was perched behind Kit. Kit had co-opted Smiggs, several years older than he, from the Abbey stables when he’d first gone on the town. Smiggs had eagerly thrown in his lot with Kit, and subsequently, they’d shared many an adventure. Kit considered Smiggs a confidant of sorts and knew he could rely on the wiry man’s support in any situation.

“This is one of the few decent views of the city sprawl,” Kit said, “and last time, we didn’t stop to look.”

“Last time” being two weeks before, when he and Smiggs had driven over for a few days to allow Kit to make the necessary arrangements for taking up residence in the city. Among other things, he’d finalized the purchase of a decent-sized house in a good neighborhood and had discussed leasing a warehouse on the Floating Harbor with the Bristol Dock Company.

“So, Mr. Cobworth should have arrived a few days ago,” Smiggs said.

Kit nodded. “He wrote that his ship would dock on the sixteenth.” Kit grinned expectantly. “I imagine that, after having two days to reconnoiter, Wayland will be eager to forge on.”

“When’s your meeting with the Dock Company?” Smiggs asked.

Kit shifted to draw out his fob watch. “Not until half past three.” He checked the time, then tucked the watch back. “It’s just after two o’clock. We’d better get moving.”

“Will Mr. Cobworth be staying with us?”

Turning his head, Kit glanced at the younger man standing behind the rail alongside Smiggs and smiled. “No, Gordon.” Until recently, Gordon had been a footman at the Abbey, but Mary had allowed Kit to lure him away to fill the role of Kit’s majordomo. “Mr. Cobworth likes his own space, for which we should all be thankful—as he tends to lose himself in his work and often works very odd hours, he’s not a comfortable houseguest.”

“Oh.” Gordon’s eyes had widened. He was of similar age to Kit, but had led a much more sheltered life.

Reminded of the tasks he had to complete before he joined Wayland at the scheduled meeting—during which Kit hoped they would be able to sign the lease on the warehouse he intended to convert to their yacht-building workshop—he faced forward and lifted the reins. “We’ll drive straight to the solicitor’s office and pick up the house keys, then go and take possession.” Of the first house he’d ever owned. Releasing the brake, he continued, “I’ll leave you two to get settled and organized. The solicitor will have the direction of a household staff employment agency. Gordon—you’ll know the sort of people we need.”

“Yes, my lord,” Gordon promptly replied. “You may leave all that to me.”

Kit smiled at the eager pride in Gordon’s voice; he had no doubt Gordon would take to his duties with the keen fervor of one out to make his mark. Thinking further, Kit said, “I left a note at the