“You mean Rothwell and I would take turns. You always win, so you always go forward.” Suttonly tipped up his long, fine-featured face and tried in vain to look down his nose at Chalgrove, who was a head taller. Suttonly’s golden hair had suffered the torture of hot irons this morning. The perfectly careless curls would not survive his match when it came.
“He is the one with permission to use this court,” Hayden said.
If not for Chalgrove’s passion for tennis, and if not for a fortuitous win at the tables against the king three years ago, they would not be here. For payment of that gambling debt, Chalgrove had asked only to be allowed to use the ancient tennis building at Hampton Court when he chose. Since the game was no longer fashionable and no one else wanted to be here, the king had been delighted to extend the royal favor.
They left Suttonly to express his boredom on the sidelines. Chalgrove went on the offensive. Hayden knew he would lose soon.
The Earl of Chalgrove was all rugged and dark, compared to Suttonly’s lithe golden appearance. His muscular body displayed more grace at this game than one would expect. A natural athlete, his powerful serves matched his ability to send the leather ball careening into the penthouses and other chase points.
Hayden watched the ball ricochet above his head and drop in front of the net.
“Off the court, Rothwell.” Suttonly marched forward, patting his teardrop-shaped racket on his head.
Hayden took his place as marker. While a fraction of his mind kept track of the points and chases, the rest of it turned to the business with Timothy Longworth. His family would be leaving London soon, but no letter had come from Miss Welbourne regarding the situation he had offered her. He did not like picturing the price of her pride. She would end up in some sorry apartment on some rough street, eking out a miserable existence.
Her lack of practicality now meant he had to find another governess and companion. Aunt Henrietta would be arriving in London in a few days. He could not wait on Miss Welbourne any longer.
It took Chalgrove even less time to dispatch Suttonly. Afterward they retired to the club rooms above the court. Chalgrove had brought servants and refreshments. While they ate, Suttonly broached the subject of town gossip again.
“It is said—”
“I am not interested,” Hayden said.
“I am,” Chalgrove said. “It is rare to hear good gossip about you, Rothwell. Normally it is about how much money you made in this or that investment. Speaking of which, is there anything you want to tell two old school friends? Or are you waiting out the storm before launching the next ship?”
Suttonly never liked having the attention turned from himself. “It is said,” he repeated firmly, “that you ruined Timothy Longworth.”
That impressed even Chalgrove. “Did you, now? I was not aware he was ruined, let alone that you did it.”
“If you ever came to town, you would be aware of what is happening in the world,” Suttonly scolded with lazy superiority. “What happened with Longworth, Rothwell? He is selling everything so fast that the bloods joke he would take a cheap offer on his sisters. You were a good friend to his brother. He must have angered you very much for you to ruin him.”
“I did not ruin him. The man’s change in fortune is his private business. As for my own plans, there is a syndicate being formed regarding a venture in South America. It is very risky, but I will send you both the documents. I assume you will guarantee the usual discretion.”
“I am in,” Suttonly said. He speared a slice of ham from the cold platter. “Have the papers drawn up and let me know when they are ready to be signed.”
“The Americas? This would not be like that McGregor scheme several years ago, now, would it?” Chalgrove teased. “You won’t be issuing any bonds for a country that doesn’t even exist, like he did, will you?”
“If he did, he’d probably find a way to pay them off with no one the wiser,” Suttonly said. “My dead father and unborn son thank me, Rothwell, that I had the foresight to befriend you when we were in school.”
“McGregor’s scheme was doomed to fail. One cannot forever bring in more money to pay off the victims defrauded earlier. Eventually the pile of cards will tumble,” Hayden said. He wished the world—Suttonly, in particular—would learn to be skeptical of investments. If Hayden had been McGregor, Suttonly would have signed over his fortune to buy those bonds from the fictional nation of Poyais in the Americas. Like all the others, he would not have even bothered consulting a map to find the country’s location first.
“I suspect that swindle is at the heart of the current crisis,” Chalgrove said.
His frown made Hayden concerned. Chalgrove did not come up to town anymore, because last year he had inherited an estate in desperate need of attention.
“Have you lost big?”
“Not big, but enough. I had some minor dealings with a county bank that was a correspondent to Pole, Thornton, and Company in London. When they failed in December, so did our local establishment.” He shrugged, but not with indifference. “Many good, solid tradesmen are in bankruptcy as a result. There will be a lot of misery before this panic ends.”
Suttonly sighed deeply. “There is naught we can do about that, is there? Let us not mourn what we cannot change. For all the worry, the town is still busy and fun, and the season approaches. Chalgrove, promise you will stay in town this year. I was a little bored last season and hope to avoid that this time around. You can look for a rich bride to solve your problems. If she is pretty, you may even fall in love.”
“Chalgrove is not a romantic fool like you,” Hayden said. “You were bored because you are getting older and are less likely to be a romantic fool yourself now.”
“You are bored too easily in any case,” Chalgrove said. “Your life would be more satisfying if you practiced some constancy in your interests.”
“You mean study mathematics as he does? Muck in the dirt of my estate as you do? I pray that I am never that old. As for being a romantic fool, I intend never to cease. Falling in love makes life exciting for the few months it lasts.” He pulled out his pocket watch. “You have me for one more match, Chalgrove. I will serve first this time.”
* * *
“I heard a rumor about you last night at my club.”
Hayden looked up from the book he was reading the next afternoon. Very few pages of the tome had been turned. His mind had been preoccupied by other things. Now his brother Christian’s unexpected arrival in the library distracted him further.
Christian rarely spent the afternoon in the library. His quiet comment as he settled into an upholstered chair near Hayden explained why this afternoon was different. It was annoying to have two rumors reported in less than two days. Hayden possessed the sort of regular habits and dispassionate character that rarely interested the gossips.
“I am not pursuing Mrs. Jameson, despite what she is telling her friends,” Hayden said.
“It was not that rumor, which never interested me. Should you ever marry, it will not be to a woman like that.”
The “should,” spoken so knowingly, suggested that his brother had confidently laid odds one way or the other on the likelihood of Hayden ever marrying. The “woman like that” did not contain a criticism of the widow in question. Rather, it implied Christian possessed a precise understanding of Hayden’s tastes, an understanding that exceeded Hayden’s own.
They got along well enough for Hayden to remain a resident in Easterbrook’s house on Grosvenor Square. However, Christian’s assumptions that he saw his younger brothers more clearly than they saw themselves, and Hayden’s suspicions that perhaps Christian really did, were damned irritating.
“It had to do with money, this rumor. Also with our relationship to the bank of Darfield and Longworth.”
Hayden set aside his book. “Do you object to my decision to leave our accounts there?”
Christian’s interference violated an understanding they had made when Christian returned to
Britain after two years of traveling God knew where. Although just out of university, Hayden had dealt with the family finances during that time out of necessity. Christian could have taken over on his return but instead had asked Hayden to continue.
“I do not object to the decision to leave the money there. I am curious if you are truly confident that the bank will not fail, however.”
“If it does, I will replace any funds lost by you or the others with my own. If necessary, I will return to the tables to raise it.”
Christian’s dark eyes glinted with cold lights. The aura of authority that he could exude suddenly poured off him. It was a presence that derived from more than his title and his status as older brother. Something had happened during those two years abroad. That was the source of this layered, restrained power.
Christian had never said much about his time away and the adventures he had seen. Hayden had sensed at once how the experiences changed him, however. His older brother had left England a dutiful, well-trained, newly invested marquess. He had returned too experienced, too seasoned, and a little outré.
“I do not expect you to wager your own fortune against your decisions. I only want to know if you made this particular decision with your normal financial brilliance or if you were ruled by sentiment.”
“I would have never left the accounts there if I thought the bank would not survive.” Hayden considered the conversation finished and picked up his book again.
“It was not the fact you left the accounts there,” Christian said after a long silence. “That was not the rumor.”
“Then what rumor did you hear?”
“That you had somehow ruined Longworth and forced him to sell his share in the bank. Manipulated things so he fell.”
“Since you have checked whether I removed our deposits and learned I did not, you already know that this rumor is not true.”
“No one told me you had ruined him by removing the money. It was said that you manipulated things so Longworth would fall, which can be something else entirely. I find it hard to fathom why. The Longworths are an old family from our county. You also made them wealthy in the first place and were Benjamin’s friend.”
Hayden instinctively rested a hand against his chest. He could not feel the scar beneath his garments, but thinking of Ben always made him remember the pain that produced it. Whatever hand up he had given Benjamin Longworth had been more than repaid in Greece. That meant the balance had been skewed again, the other way, the night that Ben died.
He had failed a friend that night on the ship, by not forcing Ben to come below when he was so obviously drunk. Worse, it had been a friend to whom he owed his life.
“Are you concerned about my honor, big brother?”
“Should I be?”
Hayden glared at him.
Christian gazed back placidly, patiently. They looked much alike, but anyone entering the library might not notice that at first. Christian’s dark hair was long, even for the current fashion. Its waves hit the shoulders of the black silk robe he had donned on rising today. Not a normal robe either. It flaunted an exotic, almost oriental pattern and cut and had much less structure than the ones normally made for men. Christian’s typical lack of formality in the house meant he wore no shirt under it either, and the gap at the top showed no neckpiece but only skin.
Hayden thought about how stiff and proper his older brother had looked while their father was alive. He had been so damned good all those years. Then, within months of assuming the title, he had disappeared, only to return with this disconcerting worldliness.
“Men fail in business all the time. It is like a joust. A man enters the tournament knowing he might forfeit his horse. Ruin is always a danger.”
“Not for you. Not with the mind and instincts you bring to the lists. If young Longworth had been another knight and not a mere squire, your analogy might hold. However—”
“Since you choose not to enter the competition at all, stay the hell out of my way.” Hayden swallowed his building rancor. It was not really aimed at Christian but instead at his brother’s irritating tendency to scrape the raw side of one’s soul. “Longworth’s ruin was due solely to his own lack of judgment. My honor is intact.”
Christian appeared to accept that. “You have a ruthless side to you. In this we are too much alike. Controlling that requires some vigilance, as I am sure you know.”
“See to your own soul. I do not need your help with mine.”
“We all need help. However, if you say you have not indulged those inclinations, I will accept that Longworth’s ruin was of his own making.”
It had definitely been that, but in order to avoid bigger consequences than mere ruin, Hayden had been forced to walk the scoundrel through too many meetings and confessions and promises the last few days. No doubt one of the men listening to those promises had alluded to Hayden’s role last night at that club.
Christian rose to leave. “Pity about the sisters. I see them around town. The older one is stunning. If not for your friendship to the dead brother, I would be tempted to offer to keep her.”
“Taking advantage of her reversal in fortune, and ensuring a complete fall, would be highly dishonorable, don’t you think?”
Christian shrugged. “In England, yes. Well, as I said, vigilance is required.”
The salver glinted in the afternoon light coming through the window. The card on it surprised Hayden.
Miss Welbourne had called.
He slid his thumb over the card’s high-quality stock and engraving. He pictured her ordering it out of her meager income and deciding the card that bore her name should be a gentlewoman’s, no matter what the sacrifice.
“I will see her.”
Her visit pricked his conscience. Innocents had been hurt by his discoveries of Longworth’s theft.
Of course, Miss Welbourne had been hurt long before the discoveries. Among his deliberations while he did not read in the library this afternoon, there had been some regarding her. He needed to devise a strategy for restoring her funds to her without her learning the funds had been sold off by Longworth in the first place.
Just as well his word of honor prevented him from explaining to her what had happened. He doubted she would thank him for the truth, even if he could reveal it. It would destroy her connection to the only family she had. There was also the chance she would feel so betrayed that she would be the one to send Longworth to the gallows.
He opened the drawing-room doors and saw his guest and her companion. Miss Welbourne had brought her young cousin with her. Irene Longworth’s eyes were fixed on a bejeweled medieval reliquary that Christian had set on a table near one window.
The young girl’s gaze snapped to Hayden on his entry and stayed there during his greeting. He recognized her mute, awed expression. He had seen it on ingenues often enough.
He much preferred the mature, self-possessed gaze that Miss Welbourne leveled at him.
“Irene, why don’t you look at the paintings,” Miss Welbourne suggested. “She has an interest in art, Lord Hayden, and I thought to give her the chance to see part of Easterbrook’s collection today.”
With Hayden’s approval, the girl strolled along the wall, examining the works.
“It was kind of you to bring her, if she is curious about art,” he said. “I thought perhaps you had done so to remind me of what she has lost.”
“That was one reason, but the opportunity to see part of Easterbrook’s esteemed collection was another. Also, when she goes to Oxfordshire, it will make a difference if she can speak of having visited this house. Others with much more than she will possess will not have that connection.”
Miss Welbourne spoke with the frankness that had marked their conversations from the start. It occurred to him he would have been treated to the same manner if he had never ruined Longworth.
He liked that. Something about him made most women retreat into irritating frivolity. Her lack of fear and fluster was refreshing. It
created charming little challenges. Her manner on the house tour had provoked him at several levels and charged the air between them with much more than mutual annoyance.
She had felt that, he was sure. She did not welcome it, however. Perhaps she did not even understand it.
“I also had to bring someone with me, didn’t I?” she said. “There are no maids now, nor even a footman. Since Irene had always dreamed of attending a ball here, a dream Roselyn and I tried to quash in the best of times, I thought she could at least see the art.”
The girl had obviously been told to make herself distant and scarce. She lingered over a Poussin at the other end of the room.
Hayden called for a footman. “Take Miss Irene Longworth to the housekeeper,” he instructed the man when he arrived. “Tell her to give the young lady a tour of the ballroom and the gallery.”
Barely containing her glee, Irene followed the servant out. Miss Welbourne watched her departure. “That was generous of you.”
“If seeing this drawing room will be of help in Oxfordshire, describing the ballroom can only improve her stature more.” He settled into a chair angled so he could see Miss Welbourne’s face directly. “Since you had to bring someone, that means the purpose of this call is really yours, however, and not hers.”
A subtle fire entered her eyes. This woman did not like him much, that was clear enough.
A lavender bow on her hat enhanced the color of those eyes. It was a simple hat, but it looked very expensive with its celestial silk brim and crown and full roses clustered around the bow. Perhaps she had made it herself. Like the calling card, it declared her station even as that station slipped from her grasp.
“I have considered the offer you made at my cousin’s residence when last you were there,” she said. “I would like to talk about that and see if we can reach an agreement.”
It had been twelve days since he made that offer. With a move from that house imminent, it appeared she had finally chosen to be practical.
He decided to make it easier on her pride by being brief. “The wages would be the normal ones for the situation, and—”
The Rules of Seduction Page 4
