The Duke smiled down at the man again and said, “One of your ships is three weeks overdue. I don’t think it will arrive in time if at all. Another is loaded with teak from Rio de Janeiro and isn’t due to arrive for another fortnight. A nice cargo, but well short of the money you owe. As for the other two, they are both outbound for the orient and won’t return for six months. Unfortunately, I can’t wait that long.”
The man paled again, obviously shocked that someone knew his business so well. His eyes shifted back and forth as he sought a way out. The Duke stood there, saying nothing watching the man squirm.
“There must be something.” Mr. Grant said. “Some way to work this out. It does you no good sending me to debtor’s prison. It won’t lead to you being repaid any sooner.”
The look of hope that flashed behind the man’s eyes only made the Duke smile more. Let him hope. It would hurt that much more when the truth seeped into that pea brain of his.
“That may be, but I can’t allow that. To prison you go,” The Duke said with a sad shake of his head. “Gentleman, if you will.” The Duke stepped back as the two prison wardens stepped forward.
“No, No,” Mr. Grant said as he edged back until the office wall held him from going any further. “There must be something, someway. This can’t be happening.”
The two men grabbed him by the arms and started to lead him from the office.
“No. Please. You can’t do this.” He yelled as he tried to wrestle free.
“Sir, if I might,” Mr. James Hopper, the Duke’s solicitor said with a serious frown.
“Yes?” The Duke said, gesturing for the men holding Mr. Grant to stop.
“Well,” the solicitor said hesitantly. “The man is correct, you won’t be able to retrieve your debts with him sitting in prison. No one will loan him money. He has no family, no friends. You will be out quite a sum. There may be a way.”
“Yes, yes,” Mr. Grant said as he hung between the two giants. “Whatever it takes. Please,” he begged.
The solicitor had to turn his back on Mr. Grant to hide a smile. They had him now. A fish on the hook.
“Well, there is some value in Mr. Grant’s business. Not enough, but some. There is also his home. Again not enough even when you add them together, but it might be enough to cover your investment.”
“His business. What would I want with a small shipping company,” the Duke asked with a frown as he glanced at Mr. Grant.
“I don’t know sir,” his solicitor said. “You might be able to sell it. Make your money back. As for the home, I took the liberty looking into it. A small place by your standards. But …”
Mr. Grant’s face twisted with a thousand different emotions. His business, his pride and joy was lost to him or spend the rest of his life in prison. He knew about debtor’s prison and quickly realized he wouldn’t last a month. And if somehow he did survive long enough he would lose the business anyway.
The Duke of Bathurst felt a warm glow of contentment wash over him as the look of trapped fear fell across the man’s face. He reminded him of a trapped rabbit looking into a hound’s eyes. There was no way out.
Realizing he was defeated Mr. Grant’s shoulders slumped as his head sunk to his chest.
“Good,” The solicitor said. “I thought this might happen and had the necessary papers drafted.
Grant sighed and accompanied him back to his desk.
The Duke watched them go over the documents, Surprised at how well things had gone. Once the last form was signed Grant turned to him.
“What now.”
“Now. I would recommend Australia. I know for a fact that there is still several thousand in outstanding debts. Money owed to less than savory people. Once they realize you have nothing of value left they will not be happy.”
Grant’s eyes grew as big as wagon wheels. It was obvious that he was perfectly aware of the type of people he owed money too.
“There is a vessel leaving tonight I believe. Sergeant Major, will you please accompany Mr. Grant. I am sure he would appreciate it.”
“Yes, of course, Your Grace.”
The Duke paid the prison wardens for their time, retrieved the signed documents from his solicitor before turning to leave.
“Wait, Your grace. Why? Why do all this, buy my debts, taking my company?” Grant said, his eyes begging for an answer.
The Duke smiled. “You will never know. The thought that a dozen years from now you will be sitting in some Australian pub wondering why, pleases me. Just know. You deserved it.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Gwen touched the back of her head to make sure her hair was still in place. It had a habit of falling at the most inopportune time. With her luck, it would happen tonight. The Duchess of Pembroke had looked her up and down when introduced then asked her if she anticipated fainting tonight. Because if so, she would have her escorted by a strong footman.
Aunt Celeste had laughed. Gwen had blushed and assure her host that she wouldn’t faint. Even if the Earl did appear tonight, she promised herself that she wouldn’t faint. Especially since Thomas wasn’t here to catch her.
Sighing to herself, she looked over the dance floor watching as Elizabeth and Isabel danced with two very good looking young men. . They looked to be having such fun. The night was filled with lively colors, friendly banter, and unusually, a mild Aunt Celeste.
It should have been wonderful, but Gwen couldn’t ignore the fact that Thomas wasn’t here. She couldn’t look across the room and see his strong, handsome face. Stand next to him and take in his smell of smoke, leather, and good brandy.
She was miserable she realized. She had been since he had ordered her to marry him. Why had she been such a fool? She should have acceded to his demands she thought. She could have fixed everything later. At least that way she would have him. Not this empty hole in her soul that begged to be filled.
“Rather a crush,” Aunt Celeste said as she watched the dancing.
“Yes, I am sure the Duchess is very pleased,” Gwen answered.
Aunt Celeste didn’t say anything for several moments then turned to look at her companion.
“You know dear, you are very good at this, “she said with a slight smile.
Gwen furrowed her brow in confusion. Was Aunt Celeste giving her a compliment?
“You have done an excellent job with Elizabeth. The girl listens to you. I could tell her the night was black, and she’d argue it was green. But with you it is different. She trusts you.”
Gwen blushed slightly. Elizabeth was a gem. The only thing she needed was to know that you weren’t trying to impose your will on her. She was like her brother in that regard. Stubborn to a fault.
“Elizabeth is a sweet thing,” Gwen said.
“Yes, yes. You are right. But it is more than that. You fit in with my friends. You have a sense of grace about you. As if you know what to do in every situation. That is uncommon my dear. I can assure you. You handle the servants perfectly; you know what is important and what isn’t. It is as if you were born for this life.”
The young women didn’t know what to say. Her heart beat faster and her hands grew moist. What was Aunt Celeste saying and why was she saying it?
“Don’t look now.” Aunt Celeste said. “Our hostess is coming this way. I wonder what piece of news she wants to deliver. The only time Amanda Pembroke hurries is when she has bad news to relate.”
A hard sickening feeling sank to the bottom of Gwen’s stomach. Thomas. Something was wrong with Thomas. She hadn’t seen him for ten days. Every hour had pulled at her. Weighing her down with worry and regret. Did he hate her? Had she done the right thing? What if he left before she could explain? A hundred other feelings and thoughts had tumbled around inside of her over those ten days. All of them centered on him. Only him.
Their hostess stopped in front of them. “Celeste, I do hope you are enjoying yourself,” she said.
“Oh yes, Amanda, a wonderful party. As always.”
&n
bsp; “Yes, I thought you should know, I heard the most disturbing news just now,” The Duchess of Pembroke said as she leaned forward to share it. Obviously this was not meant for other’s ears which meant it would be spread throughout the room within minutes.
“Yes dear, do go on.” Aunt Celeste said.
A small smile lit the Duchess’s eyes while she kept her mouth perfectly neutral. “My brother has just returned from his club. It seems there was a bit of an incident there tonight.”
“Your brother?” Celeste said. “Would that be the tall, rather thin man, I saw you talking to a moment ago.”
“Benjie, yes that was him. It seems that a certain Duke and a certain Earl are to meet at dawn with pistols. The same Earl that said he was previously betrothed to Miss Harding here. The Duke, of course, would be your own nephew.”
Gwen gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. Celeste shot her a look that told her not now. Steady. Hold it together. Gwen’s insides turned to hard stone. How could he? What if he was hurt? What if he was killed? Her world would end. She frantically looked at Elizabeth. She mustn’t learn of this.
“Tell me, dear,” The Duchess said to her. “What is it like to have two such men fighting over you? I must say. For a mere ladies companion, you do seem to create quite a stir.”
Celeste turned to her host and said, “Oh, I’m sure you are mistaken. Dueling is illegal, remember. Prinny doesn’t like his nobles killing each other. I’m sure there is some kind of mistake. If not then I am quite sure that Bathurst has his reasons.”
The Duchess of Pembroke looked rather perturbed that she had been unable to fluster Aunt Celeste. Gwen could have told her it was impossible to shake the old woman. She had a soul made of stone. She, on the other hand, was about to come apart into a thousand pieces.
Was it true? If so, was he doing it because of her? Why. She must stop him. The most important thing in the world was that she stop him.
“Yes, well, I just thought you should know.” The Duchess said as she smiled before turning to join her other guests. Gwen knew that within minutes the story would be spreading around the room.
“We must leave before Elizabeth hears,” Gwen said.
“Too late,” Celeste said as she nodded towards the dance floor. Elizabeth had gone white, then red with anger. She turned and marched towards her Great Aunt.
“Have you heard?”
“Yes,” Celeste said with a weary sigh.
“I will kill him, how dare he?” the young lady said as she stomped her foot.
“Your brother is a … “
“My brother? I’m talking about this crazy Earl. How dare he challenge my brother? My brother will kill him in an eye blink and then be charged with murder. I won’t have it. Not now. Everything is going so well.”
“Come, we should be going,” Celeste said. “And Elizabeth, hold your tongue. No need to give these people any more topics to discuss.” Celeste shot Gwen a look then quickly turned away. Gwen realized the old woman was worried. Very worried.
.o0o.
As the carriage arrived at the ducal resident, Aunt Celeste leaned forward to place a restraining hand on Elizabeth.
“I think we should have Gwen talk to your brother.”
“Gwen?” Both Isabel and Elizabeth exclaimed.
“Yes Gwen,” Celeste said. “Men can be rather stubborn. Especially when it comes to their pride. If either you or I demand he come to his senses, he is much more likely to go through with it.”
“What makes you think he will listen to me?” Gwen asked. “He never has in the past.”
Both Isabel and Elizabeth shot each other a confused look as if asking what that was all about.
Aunt Celeste frowned deeply and looked off into the night. “Honestly? I don’t think he will. But I believe you might be the only person in the world who has any chance of convincing him to change his mind.”
Gwen swallowed hard. There were several things she wanted to tell the Duke of Bathurst. But the wrong thing could lead to him dying on a dueling field at dawn.
They were met at the front door by Goodwin; His worried frown told her that the entire house had heard.
“His Grace is in the study,” he said as he closed the front door.
“With Woods I assume,” Aunt Celeste said as she started to remove her gloves. The older woman glanced at Gwen then nodded towards the door as if to say to hurry.
Gwen took a deep breath as her hand came to rest on the door handle of the study. Her heart raced. She hadn’t seen Thomas in ten days, and they had been fighting. A conflict that still made her stomach curl up in regret. Some people might say that she had rejected him. Now she was going to confront him again. To challenge him. He would hate her. Maybe hate her even more that he already did.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the study without knocking.
The smell of cigars, brandy, and smoke from the fireplace washed over her. This was a man’s room she realized. She had been here dozens of times but never before had she felt the difference. This separation. Her eyes traveled to the long couch. She had to fight a blush as she remembered the night Woods had almost found them together.
What had she done? The thought of never feeling those hands on her. Of never being loved. It terrified her. What had she given up when she let him walk away?
Thomas sat behind his desk. Woods, Viscount Somerset, and the Sergeant Major were arranged around the outside of the desk as he handed several envelopes to Woods. An atmosphere of somber patience surrounded them like a heavy fog.
All four gentlemen turned to look at her as if she had invaded their secret club. How dare she come in here without permission?
“Miss Harding?” The Duke asked.
He looks so handsome, she thought. His black hair and silver eyes gave him a dangerous look. He peered at her as if she were a froze rabbit and he a hawk ready to pounce. Her knees trembled with longing. Even now, even here she wanted him with every fiber of her being.
Bracing her shoulders, she returned his stare. “So it’s true?” she asked.
He flinched for a moment. Obviously surprised that she knew what was going to happen. His shoulders slumped, and his head dropped. He took a deep breath.
“Gentlemen, if you will excuse us.”
Woods, of course, showed no emotion. The Sergeant Major shook his head in resignation. He looked at Gwen with pleading eyes. Help him, he seemed to say. Viscount Somerset looked back and forth between them then sighed in resignation.
“I will call the carriage,” he said as he stepped towards the door.
“Woods,” Thomas said. “Please leave that top envelope.”
Gwen’s eyes remained locked on the Duke as the other men left. How could he do this? How could she stop him? Her mind searched for some fact, some weakness, anything to use as leverage. Some way to sway him.
She realized she would do anything to stop him, to protect him from his own silly pride.
His eyes returned her stare, sending a shiver up her spine as she recognized the longing and passion buried behind them.
“You can’t be serious,” Gwen said. “This is ridiculous. It is not necessary.”
The Duke sighed and started to arrange the documents on his desk.
“You are mistaken Miss Harding. This is most assuredly necessary. In fact, it has taken me ten days and nights to make sure it happened.”
“Thomas. Please, you can’t do this. Elizabeth, Aunt Celeste, all of us need you here, alive.”
Pausing for a moment in his document arranging, he looked down and said, “Don’t worry, I have ensured everything will be all right if anything untoward happens. I have located a distant cousin, a barrister in Scotland. The title will be secure.”
“Blast the title,” Gwen said. “It is you they need. I don’t understand why you are doing this. Is it for me? Please don’t do this because of me. I beg you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. Do you like ki
lling? The war wasn’t enough.”
His face blanched for a moment, and she knew she had gone too far. Again.
“Really Miss Harding, you think I like this,” he said as he stepped around the desk towards her. “You think so little of me that you think I enjoy this.”
She paused. Careful Gwen, don’t say something to push him away. Don’t make these last moments with him regrettable. You’ll spend the rest of your life hating yourself.
“Please Thomas, help me understand. Why?”
He smiled as he gently placed his hands on her arms and stared into her eyes. “Men like The Earl of Grainbell must be stopped. He has cheated, lied, hurt the people I care for. He will continue to do so unless someone stops him.”
“That’s not your responsibility.”
“Actually, I think it is. If I don’t, then no one will. How many young women will he leave battered and broken? How many men will be ruined? Families thrown from their homes because their fathers have lost their fortune to the cheating bastard.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. All she wanted to do was fall into his arms and make this go away. All of their problems, the ton, the silly rules about honor and justice. Push it all away and just be with him in their own little world.
Sighing to herself, she stiffened her spine and looked into his eyes. “Thomas. If you do this, I won’t marry you.”
“If I remember correctly, you have already informed me that you would not marry me.”
“Yes but,” Gwen said as she licked her dry lips. “If you stay, don’t go. I will marry you.” There she had said it. Used the only weapon she had. Her eyes searched his. Would he laugh at her? Casually dismiss her as a silly girl. Please, Thomas.
He froze in place, his hands dropping from her shoulders as he looked into her eyes. Searching. Trying to read if she was serious.
Sighing, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, but it is too late. Nothing would make me happier than for you to be my duchess. But … I’m sorry. I must do this.”
“I promise you, Thomas Marshall. If you step through that door, I will never speak to you again. I will leave Aunt Celeste’s service. I will move so far away you will never find me.” A single tear burned as it fell down her cheek. There was so much she wanted to tell him. Her heart was breaking one again. What was it about this man that caused her so much pain?
The Reluctant Duke (Love's Pride Book 1) Page 18
