The stables at Hathaway Hall continued to have the power to attract the baronet. The memory of Nat the groom hung over the familiar stalls, along with the air dusty from the straw and heavy with the earthy smell of horses. Remembering the acceptance he had found here, Sir Gerard felt at ease in the rustic surroundings.
He brushed his stallion's smooth gray coat. Beneath his hands, he felt the strong muscles bunch and relax. Silver Shadow tossed his head, shaking the white mane his master had just combed.
"Does it feel good, old fellow?" He rubbed the bristles of the brush behind Silver Shadow's ear.
The horse snorted in response. Smiling, the baronet resumed his task. Taking care of his horse was one of the small joys in his life. He lived in the social world of the haute ton, but he was equally at home in the simple world of the stable. After all, Silver Shadow had always accepted him without judgmental reproach.
Behind him, he heard a splash as someone crossed the
stable yard. Turning, he saw the money-lender, Mortimer Wallace, picking his way passed the puddles.
Surprised, Sir Gerard exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"
Wallace smoothed his jacket. "Surely you should have expected me. This is February, after all."
Although he knew what was coming, Sir Gerard turned back to his horse. "I am aware of the date. I just did not expect to see you here."
"I called at your house, but I became tired of waiting." The man's voice remained full and rich, but an edge underlay the tone. "You cannot avoid me."
"I am not avoiding you." The rhythmic brush strokes helped him keep his temper, and his fear, at bay.
"Excellent," Wallace oozed. 'Then you can repay my loan now."
"I only owe you an installment."
"I want the full amount."
"I will pay only what I owe. Nothing more."
Sir Gerard felt the money-lender's eyes boring into his back. Beneath his master's less certain touch, Silver Shadow moved restlessly. He tried to calm the horse with soothing words, but he kept his ears tuned for Wallace's next words.
"Could you pay me the installment due now?" the other man asked.
"Of course," Sir Gerard lied.
"Then I will be happy to take it in my hands and leave you."
The baronet paused in his brushing and faced the urbane financier. "Do you think I keep such a sum on me in the stables?"
Wallace smiled. There was no sincerity in the upturn of
his muscles. "Of course not. I will walk with you back to the strongbox in your house."
Knowing very well that the box was empty, Sir Gerard shrugged. "Nor do I keep such a sum in my house. I do not intend to tempt thieves."
The smile shrank a little. "Then I will accept a draft on your bank. In fact, you should have sent one to me already. I dislike having to collect it myself. This is a task more appropriate for underlings."
Inwardly Sir Gerard relaxed slightly. Without realizing it, Wallace had tacitly accepted the installment payment rather than the full repayment of the loan. Not that he could even pay the smaller sum.
"Then send your underlings."
"I am here, and I will collect your draft." The smile definitely had vanished from the man's round face.
"Later." Sir Gerard resumed his brushing, moving down one of the forelegs.
"That draft was due to me at the end of January. It is now the third week of February, and I want my money— now."
The baronet heard the implicit threat. Linton had told him of the physical problems that overtook those already burdened with financial difficulties from Wallace. A saddle cinch cut. The wheel of a carriage loosened. Footpads attacking. Misfortunes that could happen to anyone, seemed to happen to unfortunate clients of the moneylender. Even knowing the whispers of what happened to those who could not repay, there was nothing Sir Gerard could do.
Pretending a nonchalance he was far from feeling, he picked up the horse's leg and inspected the hoof. He used
the brush to wipe away the dried mud from the morning's ride.
Apparently his attitude annoyed Wallace, for anger burned through his next words. "You owe me that money, sir, and I have every right to expect repayment. Those who gamble at the tables must satisfy their debts of honor. Isn't that what you told me when you came to me for help?"
"Yes, it was," Sir Gerard replied.
"You also told me you had inherited your uncle's fortune."
"I was his heir!" He stood and faced his tormentor. "And you were familiar with the extent of that fortune."
"It is my business to know such things."
"You certainly did not know that he willed the bulk of it away."
With a wave of his hand, Wallace airily dismissed his statement. "An error on my part. Don't compound the error by welshing on your debt to me. You may not consider it a debt of honor, but / consider my repayment to be as important as any debt to a gentleman. Actually it is more important because it is owed to me."
Sir Gerard stared at the man. How could he escape this situation? There was no way to get rid of Wallace because there was no money to buy his departure.
At that moment a woman rounded the corner of the house and headed to the stables. With a groan, Sir Gerard realized it was Miss Courtney. He did not need her presence adding to his troubles.
Unlike the money-lender, she did not mince her way across the stable yard. She headed straight for him with determination, stepping across the puddles without breaking her stride. Naturally, she did not slip in the mud.
"Sir Gerard," she called. "I need to speak with you immediately."
"I can meet with you in the house as soon as I have cleaned up," he offered.
"This cannot wait." She arrived at the stable doorway and cast a dismissing glance at Wallace that caused Sir Gerard to smile. He did not think the man was used to being considered unimportant.
"It seems I have turned my stable into my drawing room, since I am receiving all of my callers here," he commented.
The money-lender's gaze frankly assessed the spinster. Sir Gerard wagered to himself that she puzzled the man. She wore the serviceable brown dress and severe hairstyle of a companion, yet she comported herself as if she were of a higher rank.
She said, "There has been a dreadful mistake made which needs to be cleared up now."
At her determination, Sir Gerard seized the opportunity to dismiss Wallace. "I have said all I intend on this matter. You may go."
Wallace's nostrils flared. "You don't get rid of me so easily. This is not over between us."
With another assessing glance at Miss Courtney, he stepped around the stable's corner and out of sight.
Relieved to have that difficulty sent off, Sir Gerard patiently turned to his caller. "What is wrong, Miss Courtney?"
She wasted no words in her explanation. "The rents have been raised. The tenants believe they owe much more than they should at the end of this quarter. You must correct this error."
For a moment he studied her. Her gaze was so direct
and clear that she plainly assumed he was in agreement with her. A sense of remorse flashed through him, yet immediately after Wallace's demands, he could not yield to it. "What makes you think the tenants are mistaken?"
Her eyes widened in horrified surprise. "You cannot mean to place such a burden upon your people! It is too oppressive!"
Unable to face her, he returned to his brushing of Silver Shadow, redoing the flanks he had already done. "I need that money."
"Please, you must reconsider. This is too much!"
The remorse weighed heavily upon his heart. He knew she was right. The extra rent would be an impossible burden for his tenants. Yet, he also knew not repaying Wallace endangered his own safety. He did not respond to her plea and returned to his brushing.
Watching him, his air of disinterest bewildered her. Annette was certain he cared for the welfare of his people. "Sir Gerard, why are you raising these rents?"
"I told you I needed the money
."
She heard the defeat in his voice, and her own manner gentled. There was some problem here of which she was not aware. Perhaps she could help. "So you said, but not why."
Someone cleared his throat, interrupting them. Turning, she saw the large man had not left the stables, only hidden out of sight in order to eavesdrop. Now he had revealed himself. She frowned at his despicable behavior.
"Avoiding a problem again, Sir Gerard?" A sneer crossed the man's face. "Perhaps I can help you, ma'am." He offered her his card.
Annette took it. "Financier?" she read.
"Yes. I assist those who have monetary troubles."
She remained puzzled.
He explained further, "I make loans. If money causes you problems, I can help you."
"For a price," Sir Gerard interposed bitterly. "You are barking up the wrong tree with her, Wallace. Miss Courtney does not have 'monetary troubles.' She is the woman who inherited my uncle's fortune."
"Indeed!" His eyes gleamed, and he pasted an ingratiating smile on his face. He bowed low. "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Courtney. Perhaps I can interest you in some investment projects of mine."
"I am not interested in discussing investments now," she said.
Wallace glanced between her and Sir Gerard. The baronet had stopped grooming his horse and stood impassively, resting his hand on the animal's back.
"I fancy I can explain the baronet's difficulty." She heard the mocking laughter in his voice and disliked him. Still, she listened to what he said. "He owes me money, a lot of it. I'll bet he raised the tenants' rents to repay me."
She looked at the baronet with a question in her eyes. He set down the brush and faced her. "It's true," he told her quietly.
"I only wonder, Sir Gerard," Wallace continued, "since the rents aren't due until the end of March, how were you going to meet your payment past due since the end of January?"
"I would have delayed you somehow."
Wallace stiffened. "I do not like delayed payments. Surely my reputation warned you of that."
The baronet ignored him. Instead, he gazed upon Annette. "I am sorry about the tenants. I was so caught in my
own problems that I did not think about the hardship I was imposing."
She read sincerity in his dark brown eyes. "What are you going to do?"
A half smile twisted his lips. "I will rescind the rent increase."
"What about you?" she asked.
Wallace interposed. "Yes, what about my money?"
"I will think of something."
"You are already past due," the money-lender reminded him with menace in his voice.
"I know that."
"I will pay it," Annette said.
"What!" Both men stared at her in astonishment.
She, too, was astonished at her words. Why she had come to Sir Gerard's rescue, Annette did not know. Maybe it was because she always wanted to solve problems. Now was not the time to ponder her reasons.
With firmness in her voice, she repeated, "I will pay it. How much is the payment?"
"Miss Courtney, I cannot let you do this!" Sir Gerard exclaimed.
Wallace rubbed his hands together. "You are a most generous woman, Miss Courtney."
She ignored his flattery. "What is the payment amount?"
"Miss Courtney, these are my debts. They were debts of honor. I incurred them, and I borrowed the funds to repay them. You cannot pay them for me."
She lifted her eyebrows at him. "Betting, Sir Gerard?"
"Yes, if it matters."
"It only matters if you do not oppress your people to repay them."
His lips curled. "You always have the right answer, don't you, Miss Courtney?"
"In this case, I also happen to have the money," she replied. There was a tightness about her chest as if her lungs were clamped in a carpenter's vise. Sadness overlay her soul. It hurt to realize he was the wastrel his uncle had named him, but practicalities summoned her attention.
She turned to the money-lender. With her back to the baronet, she arranged to send Wallace to the solicitor's office for the draft of the payment owed.
"Thank you, Miss Courtney. It has been a pleasure doing business with you." Wallace bowed low in farewell to her. Then he strolled away, obviously well pleased with himself.
"I hope I need never encounter that unpleasant man again," Annette said, watching him go to make certain he truly departed.
In the ensuing silence, Silver Shadow stamped his hoof, as if recalling his master to the grooming that was not finished.
"I will pay you back," Sir Gerard promised.
"I expect you to do so." She looked him straight in the face. "But not on the backs of your tenants. Those rent increases must be dropped."
He nodded. "They will be. I can live on the regular quarter rents."
"And repay me?"
His fingers played with the horse's mane. "Yes. It just will not be the life I expected as Baronet Westcourt."
She bit back the words, telling him that life seldom was lived as expected. Her purpose was accomplished; she did not need to moralize to him. "Shall I spread the word that the rents will not be increased?"
"I will do it."
"The news will ease their worries."
His voice was quiet. "You are quite the ministering angel, aren't you, Miss Courtney?"
"I only try to do what is right." Although never before had duty brought with it such a sense of dragging disappointment. She shook herself free from her melancholy thoughts. "Thank you for reducing the rents. I must leave to instruct Mr. Keller to write that draft."
"Actually, it is I who thank you—from the bottom of my heart."
The sincerity and embarrassed gratitude she heard in his voice tugged at her heart. He stood before her with one hand resting on his horse's back. His white shirt was open at the neck, and bits of straw clung to his knees. Even with his hair in disarray, he was a well-favored man in appearance. But only in looks. Today's encounter showed he was, in fact, a wastrel.
With a deepening sense of disappointment, she wrenched her gaze away from him and hurried out into the stable yard, heading for home. At her speed, the ruts in the road staggered her balance, but she pressed on. She had kept searching and searching for proof that the baronet was the profligate his uncle had named him, and now she had found it. The fact brought her no joy.
A money-lender. That was what Wallace was despite calling himself a financier. Further, Sir Gerard's gambling had brought him into the man's clutches.
The baronet was a very clever man, Annette had to grant him that. He disguised his proclivity well. Although she had watched sharply, she had never spotted him at the Assembly card rooms nor heard a whisper of any bets placed by him in Upper Brampton village.
She had even begun to believe Sir Nigel had wronged his nephew. No longer! Her eyes were opened. Sir Nigel had done the right thing when he bequeathed the fortune to her. She shuddered at how it would have been wasted in his nephew's hands.
She must never let him get his hands on it. She knew her duty.
Ghaptei (SigAt
The feeling of relief, of disaster averted, still pervaded Sir Gerard the next morning. He knew his debt to the money-lender continued to be owed, yet such a heavy weight of worry had lifted that the sharp edge of reality was banished to the boundaries of fantasy. He now had the luxury of time.
Out for his morning ride, he felt truly master of his future. That the future remained uncertain did not encroach upon his light heart. With exhilaration he raced Silver Shadow down the roads, periodically whooping just to hear his voice among the trees and across the meadows.
Then he leisurely dined alone at a late breakfast, exuding goodwill toward the world in general. Linton had left after requesting the use of the carriage. Sir Gerard presumed he meant to call upon some of the neighbors, but he did not concern himself overmuch about it.
The butler entered with a card upon his silver salver. "A man here to s
ee you, sir."
Sir Gerard had the first inkling of trouble at the sight of that white paper and at Newton's lack of reference to a gentleman. He picked up the card. Mortimer Wallace, fin-
ancier. Instantly his pleasant illusions shattered before living reality. He would have to receive the man.
Setting down his suddenly tasteless jam-covered toast, he asked, "Where is he?"
"I put him in the drawing room, sir."
This time when Sir Gerard entered the formal receiving room, he noticed the money-lender had not made himself at home. Instead, the man stood in the center of the Oriental rug, impatiently tapping a walking stick against his leg.
"I am surprised to see you here," Sir Gerard said. "I thought our business was settled."
"Yes, the spinster paid the first installment of your loan, but you still owe the balance."
A chill filled Sir Gerard. "I am aware of that."
"Are you aware that it is the full amount which is due?"
"The payment was made!" Sir Gerard exclaimed. "The next one is not due until the end of February."
Wallace stopped tapping his stick. "I see I was wise to stop here on my way back to London. You are under a serious misapprehension, sir."
One eyebrow raised in silent question as inwardly Sir Gerard waited for the blow to fall. "Explain yourself."
"Indeed." Wallace nodded slightly. "When I last visited you, I told you the whole loan amount was due."
"That was only because you feared the first payment would be missed."
"It was missed. It was late by a couple of weeks." The man shook his head. "I cannot allow such delays in my business. Time is money."
Sir Gerard kept his temper in check. Through clenched teeth, he said, "I regret the wait."
"I do, too. I am calling the entire loan due. You are too great of a credit risk for me."
The spinster and the wastrel Page 8
