Wilcox knew exactly who that was, and he was not a person to be slighted.
“Show him in, please, Munson,” Wilcox said blanching slightly and standing, in case he needed to rush to the fireplace to grab the poker to defend himself.
Shortly, Munson returned with the man.
“Ah, Your Lordship,” the man greeted in a heavy cockney accent. “It be a rather long time, ‘as it not?” the man said, coming into the study. Munson lingered in the doorway, uncertain if he should leave his master alone with this man.
“Mr. Barker, what brings you to my home without an invitation?”
Mr. Barker was a scruffily dressed man to be certain. His age was indistinguishable. But age or injury had deformed his back and his rough, red, scarred skin made him look like he might have barely survived some catastrophe or other.
Wilcox indicated to Munson that he might leave them alone.
“I have been patient, Your Lordship, I most certainly have. And I come today because of the promise you made me… how long ago was it now? The balance of my monies has not been paid as promised on the date due.”
“I… I can explain that…” Wilcox stammered.
“I am certain you can. But an explanation is not a payment… if you see what I means.”
“And what exactly are you due?”
“Three hundred plus interest. And that makes a total of four hundred fifty.”
“That cannot be,” Wilcox protested. “You mean to say the interest is a hundred and fifty on three hundred? That is outrageous.”
“Outrageous it may be, but you agreed to it when you was in dire straits. Had to have it, you said. Matter of life or death, you insisted. So, I give it to ye. But do I get repaid when I was promised? Seems not to be the case.”
Barker began to circle around Wilcox and, as he did, he took out a cudgel and began to smack his other hand with it.
“Mr. Barker, I am a gentleman,” Wilcox said, gathering himself into his haughtiest pose. “You cannot speak to me in that way.”
Barker became mocking, “And it is my understanding, Your Lordship, that a gentleman pays his debts—on time.”
Wilcox began slowly edging his way toward the door where he planned to call for Munson. Barker could see where he was headed, and came after him, just as the door opened and Munson announced, “Milord, your mother has just arrived.”
And no sooner announced, then Augusta brushed past the manservant and entered the room.
Everyone froze and regarded the strange scene. Wilcox was embarrassed to be seen by his mother with this scoundrel. Augusta’s mouth was agape as she looked the stranger up and down. Munson took a few steps forward to protect his Lordship. And Barker just smiled and continued to pummel his hand with the cudgel.
“What is the meaning of this, Wilcox?” Augusta spoke out forcefully.
“Sir, shall I look for the constable?” Munson said aside to Wilcox.
Wilcox raised his hands in the air in an effort to create a moment of calm. “Mother, you are most welcome, but if you would give me just a moment, I must conclude my business with this gentleman.” He turned to Munson. “And if you would be so kind as to escort my mother to the parlor, I shall come to her presently.” He gestured for her to follow Munson. “Mother, if you please?”
Augusta followed Munson out of the room.
“Now, then, Mr. Barker, I should like us to conclude our business.” Wilcox went to a gilt box on a side table, opened it, and took out a jeweled gold ring. He turned to Barker and said, “This should more than cover my debt to you. Take it and please go, and I pray I may never see your face again.”
Barker took the ring, looked it over, and closely examined the diamond set into the band.
“Hmm. I guess this will do.”
“It will more than cover my debt and interest, I assure you.”
Barker put the ring in his pocket and put the cudgel away. “A pleasure doin’ business, Your Lordship,” he said and slipped out the door.
Wilcox wiped his brow with his pocket handkerchief and left the study to find his mother. She was in the parlor, seated by the fireplace with her hands resting on her walking stick.
“That was a lovely sight,” she said sternly.
“I am so sorry about that, Mother. I was concluding a little leftover business. Has Munson offered you tea?” he asked as he came to sit opposite her. “How delightful to see you. And to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“Thankfully tea is coming. And I am here, Wilcox, to find out why you stole most of my money, and to find out what you plan to do to restore my funds?”
This was not proving to be a good day, Wilcox realized. “I had planned to tell you about that…”
“When exactly? I learned about it through Thomas, when he also learned you had depleted many of his assets. Wilcox, you are a thief!”
At that moment Munson brought in and served the tea in total silence—no one wishing to speak in front of the servant.
After Munson left, Augusta said, “And how are you going to rectify this horrible act, Wilcox? I want to know what you have planned to make us whole again.”
Wilcox was totally silent and just stared at his mother.
“Wilcox, what is your answer?”
“I have none, Mother, I have no way to pay either of you back. I am without income.”
“And your debts? Was that ruffian one of your creditors?”
“I have satisfied him. But I still have others.”
Then what is to be done?” Augusta asked seemingly defeated.
Wilcox had a slight smile, “Well, there is one possibility…”
“And that would be?”
He slyly insinuated, “If Thomas was to marry well, and the lady had a sufficient dowry… then all might be repaired.”
“You are counting on Thomas to make all of us whole?”
“What else is there?” he asked like a naughty little boy trying to explain away the broken window.
“But Wilcox, this is all your doing. You must be the one to make it right. I am so ashamed of you. I did not raise you to be this kind of individual.”
Wilcox could not respond.
“You must sell something,” Augusta blurted out. “I know you owe me about fifteen thousand and I have no idea what you owe Thomas… and any other creditors you might still have… Oh, Wilcox, this is just too much.” She looked around the room and said, “What about this house? You could sell it and live at Denham. How about that as a solution?”
“I am afraid it would fetch little. I already have it mortgaged to the limit.”
Augusta sighed and straightened her dress. “Then you must find a profession.”
“Mother! Me work? How can you even suggest...”
“Certainly, you have friends in the know. A man of your standing must have many contacts who could help you find the right situation. Yes. That is what you must do. Then you can begin to pay us back. It is the right thing to do.”
“Ah…” he said, lighting up. “I just might have a solution.”
“And that would be?” she asked.
He inclined his head slightly. “I will tell you when it is accomplished.”
True to his promise to George, Thomas had come to meet with Helena’s father, the Earl of Comerford. But his meeting had a dual purpose.
“Ralph, my man, how pleasant to see you again,” Thomas greeted as he found the Earl in the billiards room overseeing the hanging of a mounted eight-point stag’s head. “Did you bag that?”
“In the Scottish Highlands. Fine specimen, is it not?” the Earl answered. “And it seems appropriate to have a wee dram to celebrate? I have some of the best,” he said signaling to his footman to pour them a couple glasses of the best scotch.
The footman complied, and after the first sip, Ralph asked, “What brings you here today, Thomas? Are you here to ask for my daughter’s hand in marriage?”
Thomas was embarrassed by the question. “Not exactly. In fact,
I am here to tell you about my engagement to another lady—a London lady.”
“And her name?” Ralph asked, obviously upset with the news.
“I am not at liberty to say. For various reasons, we have decided to keep our engagement a secret for now.”
“Hmm. Sounds suspicious to me. How can you be engaged and not announce? The whole purpose of being engaged is to announce to the world that you are off the market and no longer available. Otherwise, you have chaos in the streets with people marrying left and right because there is no king and no order.”
Thomas thought that was quite ridiculous, but he assumed an intimate voice and said, “The lady in question is foreign. There are international diplomatic implications, you see…”
“No, I do not see. I thought we had an agreement,” Ralph said, pouring himself a second glass of scotch without offering Thomas a refill.
“No, Your Lordship, we had a discussion. Or rather you presented me with a proposal which I said was not acceptable. But you refused to hear me.”
“Hmm.”
“But let us not quibble, because I have something else that might interest you?”
“Oh? Now that you have refused my daughter you want something from me?”
Thomas laughed, refusing to be insulted by the man. “Not necessarily. I have a new project that I believe might catch your fancy.”
“What is that?”
“Racing. Fine horses. And a chance to make a nice little profit on an investment.”
“You want money from me?” Ralph asked grumpily.
“Well that depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you are the right man for such a venture,” Thomas said, dangling the enticement in front of the Earl but not letting him grasp it just yet.
“You think I am not worthy of a venture with a duke?”
Thomas turned away and gazed out the window. “Well… it all depends…”
“On what? Tell me.”
“I am only inviting a very select few. At this point, it is very hush hush and not widely known.”
“Are you going to tell me or not? Seems to me you are being very coy, and I cannot see why.”
“I assume you are a gentleman of discretion,” Thomas said, circling Ralph as he began to reel him in.
“Why, what is so damn secret about this proposition of yours?”
Thomas stood looking at Ralph in a way that suggested he was considering whether to tell him or not. Finally, he shook his head and turned as though to leave. “Another time, perhaps.”
“What, you do not trust me?” Ralph asked chasing after Thomas and grabbing him by the sleeve.
Thomas turned back. “Very well. But, as I said, there are only a few limited opportunities, and I have many more gentlemen interested in this venture than I can possibly accommodate.”
Ralph took a step back. “Well, you had better work with those gentlemen, then. It seems you have no use for me.”
Thomas realized he might have gone too far with his ploy and said, “Did I say that? In fact, I have come to you first, as I believe your interests and mine are a good fit.”
“Hmm. Very well then, what is this offer—if it is not too secret?”
Thomas laid out the proposition in as much detail as he could at the moment and mentioned that George Edgerton was to be his partner.
“The Edgerton family are good folks,” Ralph said, “I know young George. He spends a lot of time with Helena. She tells me they are just friends, but sometimes I think the interest goes deeper—if you catch my drift.”
“That is not for me to say. But think about my proposition and let me know if it is something that might interest you.”
“What is the price of the shares and what are we looking at as a return on our money? And do you have a budget?”
“George and I are working on all the details which we will have in writing. I will contact you again when we have it ready for your perusal. That is if you are interested.”
“Yes,” Ralph said grudgingly. “I will take a look—but I am not committing myself just yet.”
“Of course, I understand.”
And as Thomas turned to leave, Ralph added, “And you are to marry this foreign lady?”
“I am.”
Ralph sighed. “Pity. Now I need to start all over again finding a husband for Helena.”
Chapter 14
“Darling, Thomas…” Helena said, breezing into Thomas’s study where he was running figures for the budget.
“Helena… What a pleasant surprise. Were you out riding and suddenly fancied a cup of tea?” he asked, laughing and standing up from his desk.
“No, dearest. I came just to see you—although I would never say no to a cup of tea.”
“Then you are in luck because I have a special treat for you.”
“Oh?” she said, taking off her gloves and throwing herself into the most comfortable chair.
“I have to tell you I have a terrible new addiction, and it is all your fault.” He said leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.
“Oh, how splendid. I love encouraging vices of all natures.”
“I am not sure if it qualifies as a vice, exactly, but it certainly is delightful.”
“You are too cruel to keep me in suspense. Be forthcoming or I shall depart immediately.”
“Very well. I happened to stop by the bakery where your friend, Jenny works…”
“You went to visit Jenny!” Helena shrieked. “How splendid!”
Thomas was not about to admit he went to the bakery just to see her, so he said, “I was out riding and felt a bit peckish, so I stopped at the bakery for a refreshment and…”
“How curious,” Helena said with a sly smile, “You never go into town except on business. And you just happened into the bakery where my dear friend, Jenny, works?”
Thomas assumed a pose of mock indignation. “Will you please let me tell my story? Or are you to interrupt me every other second?”
Helena looked coy. “Of course, my darling, please continue.”
“What I have laboriously been trying to tell you is, I bought some of the bakery’s teacakes, and I find them so delightful, I order them regularly, and you are to have some with your tea if you like.”
“I see.” Helena said and then looked up at him and challenged, “And that is all you want to tell me, is it?”
“It is all regarding the tea I am about to order for you. Good heavens, what a production over a cup of tea.”
Helena appeared to be amused by this conversation. “Then, please order us some tea with those charming teacakes.”
Thomas rang the bell and ordered the tea. Then he turned back to his guest.
“If you were not out riding, then what did you come to see me about?” he asked.
“I came to thank you.”
“For?”
“Speaking to my father about your…engagement. Most kind of you.”
“And has it helped?” Thomas asked.
“I believe so. I have begun a conversation with him about George, and he seems much more open than I expected. Did you talk to Father about him?”
“Only in connection with the project George and I are doing.”
“Yes, George told me about that. He seems to be quite excited about it and says it may solve our problem of an income.”
“But you have a very nice income, Helena.”
“Yes, but George is being very manly and insisting—however much I bring with me to the marriage—he wants to be the breadwinner. He wants to provide.”
“That seems like an honorable request.”
Willoughby came in with the tea cart. “Shall I serve, Your Grace?”
“If you please, Willoughby.”
As they were settling in to enjoy their tea, Helena casually asked, “Thomas, now that we are no longer engaged in dear Father’s eyes, I was wondering what your next romantic inclinations were?”
“Inclinations?”
&n
bsp; “Yes, you are getting along, old man. Certainly, you must be considering marriage soon?” Thomas did not respond but looked into his teacup. “All those trips to London—all those lovely young ladies—is there no one of interest to you?”
A Pure Lady for the Broken Duke_A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 10
