“I shall do my best not to worry, then.” Nora spoke the words although she did not feel the sentiment. Where will my children go? Who will care for them if there is no orphanage?
Chapter 7
A few hours after taking his leave of Miss Mason, Colin directed his carriage to stop and he and Bergen took the steps to the club two at a time. Anxiety was palpable in his friend’s demeanor—and no doubt his own—as Colin pulled on the brass lion bell.
A tall man with greying hair answered the door. “Lord Shefford, Lord Bergen, good evening. How may I be of help?”
“Henry, has Lord Morray arrived?” Colin inquired.
“He is here, my lord. I believe he went to Lord Baxter’s office.”
“Excellent.” Morray had undoubtedly already spoken to Baxter. “Thank you,” Colin returned, as he and Bergen handed their coats and hats to the doorman.
“I was here earlier and heard Baxter moved his office to the second floor. We can access it with the back stairs,” Bergen supplied as the two men hurried down the hall. They pulled the door open to the hallway and knocked on the ornate wooden door in front of them. Hearing an invitation, they entered.
“I am glad to find you both here,” Colin said without preamble. “I need your help.” He looked at Morray. “You were right. Whitton persuaded the magistrate to release him and he has threatened my family—my mother, to be specific.”
“What happened?” Morray withdrew his cigar from his mouth and pressed it out in the ashtray sitting next to him.
“This situation with Whitton has grown out of control. I cannot conjecture why the magistrate has let him go. However, the man threw a stone through the window of my mother’s town house and followed that infamous act by leaving a card at mine,” Shefford stated, much more calmly than he felt. “I will not allow the man to threaten my family.”
“Was a note attached to the stone?” Morray asked.
“Yes. It told her to return the deed. Of course, Mother would not know to what he was referring.”
“Give me a few hours to find him,” Baxter offered. “We have connections, and avenues not open to the majority of Society.”
“We will find Whitton,” Morray added. “The man needs to be brought to justice.”
“Morray has acquainted me with the facts. However, there is more I would like to know before I petition lords and magistrates. Take a seat and join us. I have just ordered a light repast. There should be plenty for the four of us.” Baxter pulled a cord beside the fireplace. “It will give me a chance to hear more about the game which could have done for two of my best men.”
“Your mother, is she unharmed?” Morray inquired.
“She is.” He nodded his thanks. “Thankfully, she did not feel threatened either. Of course, it was one more opportunity to see her matchmaking schemes in motion. As soon as I mentioned Miss Honoria Mason’s name, I could practically see the wheels turning.”
“Do be careful! Matchmaking mamas can be fierce when they think they are being deprived of grandbabies.” Baxter guffawed.
“We cannot all be so fortunate as to find a wonderful bride such as you have found with Lady Baxter,” Colin acknowledged with a grin.
“She is a treasure,” Baxter returned, smiling from ear to ear. “She has added an element to my life I never before realized was missing.”
“Still, I plan to delay that step for a goodly while yet,” returned Colin.
“Yes, so have we all said,” chuckled Baxter. “We should return to the business at hand.”
“The man is dangerous. I am not completely sure he has not run mad!” remarked Bergen. “He came at us from the dark, completely unexpected. Had it not been for our instincts and the boy we had hired to watch the horses, he could, at the least, have seriously injured Shefford.”
“One can never underestimate a deranged man,” Morray agreed as he passed a ledger to Shefford. “I paid a visit on a contact whilst on my way to the club. He has just delivered this to me. Look.”
“Whew!” Colin exhaled slowly. “I almost feel sorry for him,” he muttered, turning the pages of the ledger. “He has taken out loans which are now due. Are his properties not prosperous?”
“His father’s wealth was known well. However, the son has not capably managed it. In the few years since his sire’s death, he has, it appears, lost quite a tidy sum. The elder lord expected it. In a highly controversial move, the Dowager Countess maintains control of much of the wealth, as unusual as that may seem. Her husband trusted her business acumen enough that, before his death, he passed much of the ready coin and most important property deeds into her control. I must admit, she has made wise investments through her husband’s former man of business. The banks respect her.”
“I see a couple of notations on one or two deeds, but not the deed to the building I am supposed to now own.” For a moment, Colin felt better about the bargain. “I hope…”
“That the property in question was in his possession,” finished Baxter in a wry voice. “Perhaps. My parents used to remark about the charitable contributions the older Whitton made to support an orphanage and school which occupied that building some years ago. Lady Whitton worked there when the Earl met her. It would not surprise me if they separated it.”
Baxter’s words settled upon him, and Colin felt his shoulders slump. “You are inferring the opposite of what I need to believe. You think she may hold that deed, herself.” In that moment, he tried to imagine what he would say to Jonathan. Thinking the only thing he needed to do was survey the property, he had sent word to Jonathan, almost promising his brother they had the site for the fencing club.
Baxter gave a quick nod in Bergen’s direction. “Morray told me of the fencing club you and your brother wish to build. It holds appeal for me, as well. I would be a willing investor.”
“It was Jonathan’s idea and he will run it. We aspire to honor our father, who was a considerable proponent of fencing. Father encouraged all of us to learn. Although the popularity is not what it once was, the skills can make the difference in life and death.” Colin was rarely without his cane, which concealed a rapier inside. It had been a gift from his father. Ironically, he had not taken it with him on the night Whitton stabbed him. That mistake only reinforced his desire to open the fencing club. “At least this gives me a better idea of my position when I meet with the Countess.”
Morray coughed. “It is a ticklish position. Has she asked to see you?” Morray inquired. “We passed her carriage when we left the school. I assumed she was going to see her granddaughter.”
“Yes. I expect she will send for me. However, I am not sure I can wait. I plan to call upon her when I leave here,” Colin responded.
A knock sounded on the door before it opened and a footman entered, carrying a tray of meats and cheeses.
“Lord Morray, I have a message for you,” the footman said, after setting the tray on a side-table.
“Thank you, Jeffers,” Morray returned, accepting the note and reading it.
The footman bowed and left the room.
“Gentlemen, please do not be shy. Help yourselves to a light meal. We have tea, or can offer something stronger, should you prefer,” Baxter said.
“Tea will do for me,” Morray responded, tucking the note into his pocket.
“I will take tea as well,” Colin added.
Bergen had already poured himself a glass of brandy from the open liquor cabinet.
Colin realized he was hungry. Helping themselves, the four men ate for a few minutes in silence, enjoying the variety of foods in front of them. As he munched on a small selection of meats and cheeses, he thought about what lay ahead of him. He wished circumstances did not dictate a meeting with the Countess, but it could not be avoided. She was reputed to be both witty and sharp, and a decent negotiator. While he feared no meeting, a plaguy feeling told him this was one occasion when he should.
“The note Jeffers delivered is from one of my contacts. Whitton is hiding in
his ladybird’s apartment on Baker Street. The woman’s name is Jenny Maven.”
Morray’s words broke through his thoughts.
“She works at the gaming hell where all of this started,” Bergen added. “The woman served drinks and also ruffled his hair while he was playing.” He chuckled. “I found the exchange entertaining.”
“Now that you mention it, I recall a woman doing that. Did she not have dark hair and blue eyes, and was rather plump? It seems like she wore some sort of feathered headdress, now that I think on it.” Colin added.
“The very one. My, what close notice you took,” Bergen offered a wry smile. “She also employed an overly seductive walk when she left the table. Whitton acknowledged her by name.”
“That makes it easier to find him. I want him back under lock and key. The brick which broke my mother’s front window was no accident.” Colin said.
“You mentioned that vexation,” Baxter remarked. “We wish for him to account for his crime when they arrest him. I might suggest we send a couple of Runners to apprehend him.”
“I can take care of that, and I have just the place to keep him.” Morray smirked. “I will also send word to the Prince Regent on Whitton’s activities. He is not held in the highest esteem, judging from the way no one raised so much as an eyebrow when the previous Earl moved much of his wealth to his wife’s control. Whitton appealed the changes, but perhaps, because of a lengthy letter from his father, included with a copy of the Will, nothing changed.”
“I do not believe the Regent would even consider changing a Will, letter or no letter,” added Baxter. “Let his mother know about his activities and she may take care of the situation herself,” he suggested, wiping his hands on the napkins provided with the meal.
“I appreciate everyone’s efforts on my behalf.” Colin flicked at an imaginary piece of lint from the leg of his breeches and then stood up. “I have one more call to make today, and I need to make the most of the afternoon. I should not put it off any longer or I will be cursing myself by evening for procrastinating.”
“Say ’Good afternoon’ to the Countess.” Morray snorted at his own jest.
“You will find her a worthy opponent. Stay sharp,” Baxter warned as he, too, stood up.
When he and Bergen left the club, Colin had the overwhelming feeling that life as he knew it was about to change yet could not determine why he felt that way. It is a woman, for goodness’ sake.
Bergen and he rode quietly towards Mayfair. The Countess’ house was one of the largest and grandest in the area. Colin considered how Whitton must have felt when his father withdrew Whitton’s control from most of their family’s funds and gave power to his mother instead. That could test a man’s ability to keep his head. Colin did not, however, have too much time to reflect. His carriage halted only a moment before a pair of black iron gates opened and then closed behind them as they approached the four-storied stone house.
The door opened as soon as he and Bergen stepped from the carriage. “Good afternoon, Lord Shefford, Lord Bergen,” a tall, thin man, with thick grey hair and dark brown eyes, greeted them when they mounted the steps. He waved them towards a grand stairwell. “The Countess is expecting you. Please follow me.”
Clearly, the woman had him at a disadvantage, Colin mused. How did she know I would call upon her? A warm feeling shot up his neck. Stepping onto the landing, the retainer led him directly across the hall to closed double-doors. Before he had another moment to think about it, the man opened the door to a spacious drawing room. “The Lords Shefford and Bergen, your ladyship,” the retainer said.
Bergen and Colin crossed into a room tastefully decorated in pale gold, creamy whites, and burgundy. A large, burgundy Axminister carpet interwoven with subtle patterns of cream covered the floor, while a patterned cream damask wallpaper and a matching large sofa brought their attention to the center of the room. The room was separated by the settee into two sections. Behind the sofa, a large mahogany pianoforte graced the front of large windows covered with burgundy velvet drapes, held back on each side with gold-colored tasseled ropes. A bouquet of red roses filled the room with scent from a round, marbled table sitting to the right of the settee.
“Thank you, Masters. Please have some refreshments sent up.”
“Yes, my lady.” The retainer bowed and left.
“Good afternoon, my lady.” Simultaneously, Colin and Bergen effected a bow displaying an elegant leg.
The grey-haired, buxom Countess sat down on her cream and gold settee, smoothing the skirt of her deep blue satin dress, she encouraged both men to be seated. They each took a burgundy-covered mahogany armchair facing the couch.
“Gentlemen, I fear we should get straight to the point,” the Countess stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “I have just left my granddaughter, Nora, and my orphanage. She is most unhappy.”
Shefford shifted subtly in his seat, and glanced at his friend, who hastily tried to hide the surprise on his face. “You come straight to the point, my lady,” Shefford said, withdrawing a folded parchment from his waistcoat. “I will do so as well.” He rose and walked over to her, handing her the deed.
“Is this the deed you showed to my granddaughter?”
“It is, Countess.” Remaining detached, Colin watched her scrutinize the document. She then picked up a small leather pouch and withdrew an envelope. Picking up the envelope, she held it close to her as she spoke.
“Many years ago, my husband gave me a gift. He did so from sentimentality, but it meant a great deal to me. When Nora told me of your visit, for a moment I wondered if my son had somehow secured my gift for his own nefarious ends.” She passed him her small packet.
He opened the envelope, feeling a mixture of dread, anger, and frustration. Reading the parchment clarified that his deed was a forgery. However, the fact her son had forged a deed and used it to pay a debt still gave him a measure of influence, at least in his mind. He looked up.
“What do you suggest? Obviously, you have a legitimate deed and I have a forgery.” He paused, debating how to gain the advantage. “I am not sure how much of your son’s behavior you are aware of.”
“I know that my son is a prolific gambler and womanizer. My husband tried very hard to reform him, to no avail. I can think of naught we did not try.” She took a deep breath. “You will probably be unaware of this, but my husband moved everything unentailed to my care before he died. I still owe my husband inordinate gratitude for allowing us to preserve our holdings this way. It has only added to my son’s anger and resentment. Yet I consider that a small price compared with the very real likelihood we would have lost our home, given his flagrant need to drink and gamble.”
“I have heard you have made some astute investments.”
“Is that what they say?” She laughed sarcastically.
“My lady, how do you propose that we resolve this problem?” Colin asked, feeling very frustrated, as the Countess passed the forged document back to him. “I am still owed the blunt.”
“Would you mind sharing with me the amount you are owed and how the bet transpired?” she asked.
Colin recounted the information. By his calculations, he had been owed a little over a thousand pounds and had accepted the deed as payment. Bergen could verify that if it proved necessary.
“If I am to understand this correctly, you accepted this deed, without accounting for its worth?” She drew herself up straighter.
Colin felt himself cringe. How had he not anticipated this?
“My lord, surely you realize your deed is worthless.” Her eyes met his.
“I prefer to think of it as his vowels, my lady,” Colin returned. He sounded more confident than he felt.
“Countess, there is another important matter I would bring to your attention,” Bergen put in. Without waiting for her answer, he continued, “Your son attempted to kill Lord Shefford. He attacked him with a knife as we left the gaming hall.
Colin noticed that she did not lose her c
omposure. Why did he have the feeling she already knew of Whitton’s infamy?
“That does make a difference,” she conceded and was quiet for a moment. “I have a proposal for you.”
He hoped she would honor her son’s debt.
“First, I wish for your word… both of your words… that this conversation will not be repeated,” she said slowly.
“You have my word,” Colin responded.
Bergen nodded his assent.
“This orphanage is important to me, and I wish for it to have at least the chance of survival. My granddaughter does not understand that your deed is a fake. I would like you to make an agreement with her. She needs to realize how accomplished she is. Give her two weeks to prove to you that the orphanage is more worthwhile than any use you may otherwise have for it. I expect you will require to spend considerable time there, or else your proposition will not appear authentic. In the meantime, I will tell her I am investigating the deed. That would normally take time. I will continue to support her. Nora, like her parents and, indeed, myself…” She smiled pleasantly. “…has a great deal of pride and will not mention this arrangement, I am certain.”
“I am flummoxed, my lady. How does this benefit me?” Colin tried to suppress his irritation yet was aware of a sharp note in his voice.
“I would like your appraisal of how my granddaughter does when forced to weigh her needs against the needs of others—as with the school, which already has fourteen children relying upon her.” She smiled. “There are certain intentions… certain aims I have for her which I would like to see fulfilled.”
“Ma’am, I think I should tell you I am far from happy with my role in this,” he said, no longer able to hide his annoyance.
Earl of Shefford: Noble Hearts Series: Book Three (Wicked Earls Book 28) Page 5
