by Abigail Agar
Mercy looked up at Phin and nodded. She looked around the crowded lobby. Champagne was passed to the six of them. Genevieve’s head was popping up and down, in and out of the tangled arms that gave a her glimpse of everyone. Not being a very tall woman, she spent a good amount of time during intermission on her toes. Phin was concerned she would tip over.
Phin situated himself between Mercy and Charlotte. All evening, he and Charlotte hadn’t had a chance to speak two words to one another before intermission. He was about to begin a conversation with her when Merrick and the other gentleman approached their group.
“Your Grace, My Lord.” Roderick Merritt bowed. “Ladies. May I present a close friend of mine, Lord Jasper Bernard, Baron of Warwick.” Phin couldn’t shake the feeling he knew him.
It was easy to see Bernard was acquainted with Charlotte. He stood on the other side of her, and Phin watched him ask her about the Harrington’s ball. She seemed to know he did not attend, and she described it to him.
Phin kept a close ear on Charlotte and Bernard’s conversation. They didn’t seem to be talking about anything in particular, but Bernard wanted to know where she would be over the next week, and it became obvious to Phin, Bernard planned to mimic her schedule. He even asked her for a waltz at each ball they both were to attend. Phin thought his attention to Charlotte aggressive, but Charlotte seemed happy at the prospect of seeing him. She tried to rein in her pleasure, but she had difficulty modulating her voice as she accepted his invitations.
It was sobering to see. Phin hadn’t really considered he had competition until now. He knew about Bernard but hadn’t seen him. He would need to do something about it.
Phin looked up at Everett then moved his eyes towards Bernard. Everett nodded. They would talk later. Charlotte continued to talk with Bernard while Phin left with Mercy so he could meet Merrick properly. After they met, Phin asked a number of questions designed to determine his suitability for marriage. As it turned out, he liked Merrick well enough. If she wanted the match, Phin would have him checked out by his detective.
Phin excused himself when he saw Elizabeth in the crowd. She was wearing a bright red gown in some sort of clinging fabric that clung to every inch of her body. Her hair was still long and blonde. Her eyes still predatory.
“Hello, Elizabeth,” Phin said when he caught up with her. “You look well. I was sorry to hear of Aunt Ellen’s passing, but I’m sure you heard I’ve spent quite a stretch of time in India of late.”
“Yes, I did hear. When my mother died, I was able to take solace in your father’s kind companionship. My mother asked him to keep an eye on me, bless her heart.”
“I’d love to drop by for a visit. Are you still living in the family townhouse or have you moved?”
“I’m still there,” Elizabeth said, her eyes boring into Phin’s, “but if it’s more convenient for you, I can come visit you.”
“I wouldn’t think of putting a Lady out of her way. Think nothing of it. Now, if you will excuse me?” Phin bowed and left to find his circle of friends.
As he walked away, Phin could feel Elizabeth’s eyes bearing down on him. He smiled. He had rattled her.
Chapter 5
Five years ago
Phin was home from Cambridge for good now. Having graduated two months before, he was still trying to find his place in the family. He would be Duke one day. He desperately wanted to learn what his father, Bennett, did. One day, he would have to do it.
But his father resisted. He put Phin off, saying there was plenty of time. There was, of course, no rush. But wouldn’t Bennett want to share the burden rather than carry it alone?
So Phin rattled around the castle, taking long rides on horseback and spending his time with Silas and Mercy. He was bored.
He and Silas went to London to break up the monotony, and Bennett managed to make it clear they needed to go. He suggested they go on the Grand Tour, or spend six months abroad, in France, Italy, or Greece. He and Silas considered it but never felt enthusiastic about the prospect. They never got around to making the plans.
Then it was time for Silas to enter Cambridge. Phin’s boredom and loneliness increased. He considered going to Brighton for the summer.
Everett was in town, a place Phin's father forbade him from going to and a place of which he was never particularly fond.
“What is it Foster?” Phin said walking towards the open door.
Foster turned. “An urgent missive for the Duke. The courier was instructed to wait for an answer.”
“I’ll take it. Send him around to the kitchen for something to eat while I see to this.”
Foster bowed and gestured to a footman outside to accompany the courier.
Phin walked towards the study knowing his father had no plans on returning to Collinswood soon. He needed to handle this on his own.
He looked at the missive.
Duke of Exeter
Confidential and Urgent
He looked up. His father’s desk loomed in front of him. His bookcases were full, books lying flat on top of row after vertical row. Papers strewn everywhere. An ashtray and a pipe rested on the windowsill. The mantel clock ticked.
Urgent. Urgent. Confidential and urgent. He lifted his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. Should he open it? He looked down at the missive and broke the seal.
What? This cannot possibly be true. It was a mistake. It must be a mistake.
Phin rushed to his father’s desk and rifled through his papers. Crop yields, prices for wheat, a bill for a sugar delivery. He put the papers aside and went to open the desk drawers. Locked. The desk drawers were all locked.
Phin searched for a key or anything sharp and small to get the drawers open. He felt his breath coming out in short bursts. He felt perspiration on his brow. His hands were beginning to shake. The seriousness of this missive was beginning to sink in, and the need to find his father’s papers made his heart pound.
He started pulling the books out of the shelves, causing a mess on the floor he would deal with later. Thud, thud went the books until he heard a metal ping on the wooden floor. There, next to scores of upturned books was a key.
He stopped for a moment, his breath coming like it used to when he and Silas would race until one of them had to quit. He put his hands on his knees and, after a few moments, he picked up the key. He unlocked the top centre drawer. All of the drawers unlocked with it.
He rifled through the shallow drawers on both sides to no avail. More wheat prices, the cost to repair the church roof, kitchen deliveries. The deep drawer on the left side contained what Phin wanted.
Ledgers of income and expenses showed a slow, steady decline in the Exeter bank accounts. To Phin’s horror, a few accounts showed withdrawal after withdrawal, all in a short span of time. Those accounts were empty, closed. Then a loose paper peeked out of the side of one ledger. A loan. A large loan. Phin’s eyes went wide. He read the loan terms three times. What was Bennett thinking? How could he put the castle and surrounding properties as collateral?
He flipped back over the pages of the ledger looking at all the deposits into the family accounts. Phin leaned over the ledger, elbow on the desk, head in hand. He sold the hunting lodge. Worse, he sold Phin’s mother’s jewellery. In each case, he got a tenth of what they were worth.
Blackmailed. Someone blackmailed his father. He must go to the bank immediately, then see his father’s solicitor and go to his father. He left the study, papers clutched in his hand.
“Foster, tell the courier I am headed to the bank myself to give them a response. Have my valet send along a trunk of clothes to London. I will be going on horseback. Do not mention any of this to family or staff and by God, please straighten my father’s office yourself. I hate to give you that task, but this is a highly sensitive matter, and I don’t want the staff to do it.”
“Of course. I will handle it as soon as possible. Is there anything else, My Lord?”
“No. Thank you, Foster. You are i
nvaluable.”
“Thank you, My Lord.” Foster bowed and left to carry out his orders.
***
The trip to London on horseback felt like an eternity to Phin. His goal was to get to the bank before it closed for the day. He did not think he could wait another day for an explanation.
He entered the hushed lobby of the bank building. He needed a moment to adjust from the noise of hooves pounding the ground and wind assaulting his ears. The quiet seemed deafening.
He approached the desk directly in front of him and asked to see Mr William Sanford. After giving his name, Phin sat on a couch against the lobby wall while this man from the front desk disappeared behind a door.
Moments later, he came back and asked Phin to follow him to Mr Sanford.
Once Phin stepped into Mr Sanford’s office, he heard the door shut, and Mr Sanford stood. He bowed and asked Phin to have a seat.
Mr Sanford told Phin what he already knew. Phin’s father had systematically drained the family accounts putting Collinswood in a precarious position. Then Sanford paused . . . due to his gambling.
His gambling. That’s why he stayed in London and didn’t want Phin and Silas around. But how could he do that? How could he put family property up as collateral on the turn of a card game? Where did he think he, Silas, and Mercy would go?
Phin asked Mr Sanford if he could renegotiate the loan so that Phin would be responsible for it. Under Bennett’s direction, the overdue loan was called in. Bennett showed his concern for the loan by his actions. Phin could not risk that happening again.
“We can certainly consider that,” Mr Sanford said with a pained expression. “It’s just that I don’t see what will change should we do that. If I may ask, are you in a more advantageous position than your father?”
“I know what profits Collinswood expects, and I am willing to pass almost all those profits to you save essentials for the castle and the village. You will see much care given to your loan.” Phin leaned forward. “Mr Sanford, you and I both know liquidating Collinswood would be a difficult proposition. Your bank would not want to have its good name attached to such an action. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain through a renegotiation.”
Sanford nodded. “You make sense, My Lord. But, I must ask, what of Your Grace?”
“This loan would be between us alone. My father would have no involvement in it.”
How sad, it had come to this. The Duke of Exeter, Bennet Collins, should be a name revered by the ton and the House of Lords. Instead, the bank wanted to make sure the loan to save Collinswood did not include his name as a guarantor. He had fallen so low and taken his family with him. Without his family even knowing about it.
***
Phin left the bank and went straight to the family solicitor. Mr Roberts was well aware of Bennett's predicament. He told Phin he had personally dragged Bennett out of Maggie’s gaming hell, hoping to save the situation, but he was not to repent.
“What can we do?” Phin asked. “I’ve renegotiated the loan. Now my father cannot put Collinswood on the chopping block. But is there anything else to do?”
Mr Roberts looked Phin in the eyes and held the gaze for longer than was usual. He shuffled papers on his desk. He gazed at the wall behind Phin. Finally, he faced Phin again.
“You can put all the family accounts in your name and block Bennett’s access to them.” Phin gasped. He went to speak, but Roberts put up an index finger and continued, “You can give him a small account you replenish monthly, thus giving him an allowance. That way, you can keep Collinswood and the townhouse running smoothly while giving him something to live on. That’s a big responsibility to take on. You may not be able to carry it off, Phin.”
“Oh, I’ll carry it off. I cannot let him jeopardize his sister’s future. Silas is at Cambridge, and Mercy will turn eighteen before you know it.”
Mr Roberts got out of his chair and paced. He stopped and looked at Phin. “You need to know – Mercy’s dowry is gone.”
“Gone?”
“Gone. He has gambled that away along with everything else.”
“All of it? Mr Roberts, it was substantial.”
“I know. I know. It’s gone.”
“Well, I will need another account for her dowry, then. Is there anything else I need to know?”
“No, I believe we’ve covered it.”
“Thank you, Roberts. Send the account numbers when you have them to my business partner, Everett Warren, Earl of Norfolk.”
“Yes, of course.”
***
Phin went back to the townhouse, had a light dinner, changed into comfortable clothes and waited.
He was in for a long night. What time his father would come home was anybody’s guess. He moved to his father’s study. He could use the time learning more about the income and expenses Collinswood had or would have if he ran it without withdrawals. The hours Phin spent hunched over the ledgers paid great dividends. He now knew most of what he needed to know to run Collinswood. It was straightforward, and he was relieved.
He looked at the mantel clock. It was one in the morning. He started to wonder if he might be up all night.
Phin strode to the front entrance. Jenkins joined him. “Your coat, My Lord?”
“Yes, Jenkins, thank you. I have decided to meet my father rather than wait for him here. Where did he say his destination to be this evening?”
“He didn’t say, My Lord.” Jenkins paused then continued, “I have heard he frequents an establishment called ‘Maggie’s’, but I cannot say if he is there this evening.”
“I understand, Jenkins. This ‘Maggie’s’ establishment, would you happen to know where I might find it?”
“I couldn’t say, My Lord. When the carriage comes around, the driver may know. After all, it is his duty to know how to get anywhere you wish to go.”
Phin entered Maggie’s gambling hell a short time later. It was in a large rectangular building that may have once been an infirmary, on the border of the acceptable part of town.
The door opened for him and a haze of tobacco smoke assaulted him. A girl wearing heavy makeup and little else offered to take his coat and get him a drink. He politely refused. Phin was not staying long.
He walked the perimeter of the room. A roulette table, three blackjack tables and six card tables of men playing God only knew what card games.
He saw pocket watches, cravat stick pens with precious stones embedded in them and an assortment of anything else a player might deem to have value with a mound of chips at the centre of the tables.
He looked around the room and closed his eyes briefly. These men had a sickness they could not control. They were drunk and desperate, a terrible combination when embarking on a game of chance. They were playing cutthroat. He spotted his father at a card table. His hand was full of cards, and there was an empty glass to his right. He had a pained look on his face and one lone chip in front of him.
“Hello, Father,” Phin said, standing at his side. Bennett jumped, almost dropping his cards for the entire table to see.
“What are you doing here, boy. Go home, and I’ll see you in the morning,” Bennett said with a combination of irritation and disdain.
Phin wasn’t concerned about being humiliated by his father in front of these degenerates. He was long past that parental tactic. He had a castle to save.
“Oh, I’ll wait until your hand is over and then we’ll leave together,” Phin said casually.
“Well, you’ll have a long wait. I have no intention of leaving soon,” Bennett growled.
Phin leaned down until his mouth was close to Bennett’s ear. “We will leave when you finish this hand or all of Maggie’s will be told you had to sell off your hunting lodge, all your wife’s jewellery – even the pieces given to her by her father – and you are losing your castle within a month, all because you are a pitifully poor gambler. Everyone will want to play you and fleece you if they are not already doing so.”
&
nbsp; Bennett looked up at Phin with a hatred that wounded him to the core. They had never been close, but until now, Phin did not know his father’s level of contempt for him. Phin was sorry it had to come to this, but enough was enough. Phin looked back at him with scorn. Bennett finished his hand and rose.
A man Phin estimated to be around his age intercepted the two of them as they headed for the door. “See here. I was in line to play your father next. You can’t just come in here and take him away.”
“Oh, that’s where you are wrong. We are leaving now. You will have to fleece someone else.”
“Phineas,” his father called in a loud, sharp tone.
