Chapter Two
Drake Halston leaned back in his chair surreptitiously surveying the gentlemen circulating nearby.
If you had asked him even six months ago if he could ever picture himself here, sitting in the prestigious White’s gentlemen’s club, sipping a fine brandy while fielding respectful nods and bows from other titled gentlemen, he would likely have laughed right out loud at the very suggestion.
And yet here he sat, doing that very thing.
He was now the Earl of Greythorne. It was nearly absurd. He half-expected someone to call him out as a fraud any moment now.
What wasn’t so absurd were the numbers.
Not to say that it was an empty title. If he was careful with what came to him and cultivated the estate wisely, and especially if he invested a little of his own money, it would all be perfectly fine.
But it was a shock to learn how much the widow had benefited from the previous Greythorne’s death.
Ought he to be suspicious?
Well, whether he ought or not, he was definitely suspicious.
“So, you can see here, my lord, that there are many areas that could use improvement. I have met with the steward myself and he has a great many ideas if you’ll be willing, my lord.”
Drake stifled his sigh. He didn’t think he would ever be able to get used to the toadying tone being used toward him.
The solicitor had apparently come bundled with the title. Drake gritted his teeth and managed not to tell him to leave off.
“Yes, yes, Mr. Winters. I’m well aware of the estate’s, shall we say, imperfect condition.
” Drake took another sip of brandy, savouring the burn as it slid down his throat.
“What interests me more is how my predecessor’s widow managed to secure such a substantial portion of what should rightfully be mine. ”
Mr. Winters shifted uncomfortably, shuffling the papers he’d spread across the small table between them. “Lady Katherine’s settlement was arranged by her brother, the Duke of Wexford, before her marriage to the late earl. Entirely legal, I assure you.”
“Legal, perhaps,” Drake murmured, “but hardly customary. Since when does a widow walk away with more than half the unentailed assets?”
A booming voice cut through their conversation. “So, you’re finally stepping into your new role. What are you going to do about her?”
Drake looked up to find Lord Harrison Marwood striding toward them, a glass of port in one hand and a knowing smirk on his face.
Harrison was one of the few men in London Drake considered a friend—they’d run in the same circles during Drake’s rare appearances in Town over the years, both preferring the less reputable entertainments London had to offer over tedious Society functions.
“Marwood,” Drake acknowledged with a nod. “Mr. Winters was just explaining the charming situation I’ve inherited.” He gestured to the empty chair beside him. “Join us. Perhaps you can shed some light on my predecessor’s widow, since you’ve been in London far more than I have these past years.”
Mr. Winters began gathering his papers. “I should take my leave, my lord. We can continue our discussion tomorrow.”
Drake waved a dismissive hand. “Leave the financial documents. I’ll review them tonight.”
The solicitor hesitated, then nodded, selecting several papers from his stack and placing them in front of Drake. With a bow, he retreated, visibly relieved to escape.
“You’ve terrified the poor man,” Harrison observed, dropping into the vacated chair.
“He’s too obsequious by half,” Drake said. “Now, tell me what you know about Lady Katherine Halston, Dowager Countess of Greythorne.”
Harrison’s eyebrows rose. “Starting with the important matters, I see.”
“When a woman has managed to secure a significant portion of what should be my inheritance, I consider it important, yes.”
Harrison studied him for a moment, then leaned back, swirling his port thoughtfully. “She’s not what you’re thinking.”
“And what am I thinking?” Drake challenged.
“That she’s some grasping widow who manipulated old Edmund into giving her everything.” Harrison shook his head. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
Drake snorted. “From what I’ve heard of my dear departed cousin, he was no fool. Yet somehow this woman walked away with enough to live in luxury for the rest of her days, while I’m left with an estate in need of ‘improvements,’ as Winters so delicately put it.”
“Edmund might not have been a fool in some ways, true enough,” Harrison said, his voice taking on an unexpected edge. “But he was a different kind of fool altogether.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he was a cold, calculating dastard who managed to secure a marriage to one of the most sought-after young ladies in London, only to make her life a waking nightmare for five years.”
Drake frowned. This didn’t align with what he’d been led to believe.
“I was given to understand it was a successful match.”
“On paper, perhaps. The Duke of Wexford’s beautiful sister marrying the Earl of Greythorne—it looked perfect.
But those who paid attention knew better.
” Harrison leaned forward. “Edmund Halston was not a kind man, Drake. And Lady Katherine’s settlement was her brother’s way of ensuring she’d have some security in an otherwise miserable arrangement. ”
Drake absorbed this information, trying to reconcile it with the narrative he’d constructed in his head—of a manipulative woman who’d taken advantage of his predecessor. “You sound quite familiar with the situation.”
“My sister was a friend of hers before her marriage,” Harrison explained. “She witnessed the change in Lady Katherine after she wed Edmund. The light went out of her, according to Amelia.”
“And yet she stayed with him.”
“What choice did she have? Leaving is unthinkable for someone in her position.” Harrison’s expression hardened. “Besides, Edmund was careful. Whatever cruelties he inflicted stayed behind closed doors.”
Drake drummed his fingers on the table, digesting this unexpected perspective. “You paint a sympathetic picture, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m now required to deal with her regarding certain estate matters that are legally entangled.”
“Be careful, Drake,” Harrison warned. “Lady Katherine may have been Edmund’s victim, but she’s no fragile flower. She’s a Wexford, and they’re known for their steel.”
“Steel or not, I need those lands resolved. The farming properties that border both her dower house and the main estate—”
“Ah, the western fields,” Harrison nodded. “Prime land.”
“Precisely. And according to Winters, there’s ambiguity about whether they fall under her settlement or the entailed property.”
“And you intend to claim them.”
Drake’s eyes narrowed. “They should be part of the Greythorne estate. If my esteemed predecessor hadn’t been so careless with the legal documentation—”
“Or perhaps he was being deliberate,” Harrison suggested. “Maybe he wanted to ensure his widow retained some leverage over the next earl.”
“A charming theory,” Drake said dryly. “Either way, I need those lands if I’m to restore the estate to profitability.”
Harrison studied him for a long moment. “Just be careful how you approach her. Lady Katherine has powerful allies. Her brother isn’t just any duke—he’s known for his shrewd mind and fierce loyalty to family.”
“I’m not afraid of the Duke of Wexford.”
“Then you’re as much a fool as your cousin was,” Harrison said bluntly. “But it’s not just her brother you should worry about. Lady Katherine herself is formidable.”
“In what way?”
“She’s intelligent, resourceful, and after five years with Edmund, likely distrustful of any man with the Halston name.” Harrison finished his port. “If you go in assuming she’ll bend to your will simply because you’ve inherited the title, you’re in for an unpleasant surprise.”
Drake scoffed. “I’ve dealt with far more intimidating opponents than a Society widow.”
He’d once talked his way out of a duel in Marseilles with nothing but a half-bottle of wine and a crooked grin.
“Have you now?” A new voice joined their conversation, smooth as silk but with an undercurrent of steel.
Drake looked up to find Lord Carrington regarding them with an amused expression. The older gentleman was widely respected in London Society, known for his impeccable connections and uncanny ability to know everyone’s business.
“Lord Carrington,” Drake acknowledged with a respectful nod. “I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Lady Katherine.”
“I’m acquainted with most of London, young man,” Carrington replied, settling uninvited into the third chair at their table. “And I couldn’t help overhearing your discussion about the new Dowager Countess.”
Drake’s jaw tightened. “I prefer to handle my family matters privately.”
“A wise preference,” Carrington agreed, seemingly unperturbed by Drake’s coolness. “If that were the case, though, you probably ought to have taken a private room,” Carrington quirked an eyebrow sardonically. “Perhaps I might offer some insight that could save you considerable trouble.”
Drake exchanged a glance with Harrison, who gave an imperceptible nod. “I’m listening.”
“Lady Katherine isn’t merely intelligent and resourceful, as Lord Harrison suggests. She’s also exceptionally knowledgeable about estate management.” Carrington’s eyes gleamed. “Far more so than Edmund ever was.”
Drake frowned. “That seems unlikely.”
“Does it? Consider this: While Edmund was busy gambling away funds in London, who do you think kept Greythorne Manor and its lands from falling to ruin?”
Carrington raised his eyebrow again before continuing. “Lady Katherine spent more time at the estate than her husband ever did. The tenants respect her. The steward consults her. And from what I understand, the improvements made under her guidance have increased yields by nearly twenty percent.”
Drake’s frown deepened. This was not at all what he’d expected to hear. Had he truly misjudged the woman so badly? Drake wasn’t used to being the last to know.
“If that’s true, why wasn’t I informed?”