Chapter 22 #2
David shrugged. “I have no reason to believe it wasn’t a fair game of chance. And yes, Artane was put up as collateral and lost.”
“Proof,” Stephen said, reaching out his hand to keep his brother from launching himself forward. “We’re not interested in your delusions of grandeur.”
“I saw the deed,” Andrea said. She shot David a look that sent chills down Stephen’s spine. “And you keep up your end of the bargain or I’ll take it back.”
David turned on her. “I don’t care about your ridiculous bargain—”
“You cheat!” she gasped.
“Well,” he said with a shrug, “yes, I do.”
“I’m curious,” Stephen said, because he thought having a bit of infighting in the Kenneworth ranks could only be a good thing for the rest of them. “What was the bargain?”
Andrea turned on him. “I told David that he could have the deed if he delivered you to me in return.”
Stephen clasped his hands behind his back. “What an interesting agreement, Andrea. Was I to be tied and gagged, or was David going to use his vast amounts of charm to convince me to arrive bearing jewels and silks?”
Andrea shot Peaches a look. “At least I have a pedigree. Your whore over there—”
“Stop it immediately,” Lady Louise said. “There will be no foul language in my library, for it is still my library.” She looked at David. “Before I throw you out, tell me what you want and let us have this over with.”
David smiled. “What I want, Granny, is for your grandson to sell everything he has and buy my silence. If you find yourselves unwilling to part with your belongings, I’ll have Artane.
And once the scandal of your gambling ancestors hits the press, then you, Lady Louise, will not have the courage to throw these sorts of lavish parties any longer.
My sister will take her rightful place as London’s premiere hostess. ”
“And you’ll find yourself with a bit more to toss away at cards, is that it?” Stephen said, suppressing a yawn. “Perhaps you should see a professional, Kenneworth, and address your addiction.”
David’s fury was impressive. “I’ll give you seventy-two hours, because it will take you that long to begin to liquidate everything you have. Send me proof you’ve begun the process, or I’ll go to the press.”
“Send me the proof,” Stephen shot back, “or I’ll have you charged with slander.”
“You don’t want to make an enemy of me, Haulton, I guarantee it.”
“Proof,” Stephen said curtly, “or I go to the press. And you needn’t worry about seeing Miss Alexander home.”
“I hadn’t,” David said blandly. “I just assumed she would walk the streets, which is, I’m sure her habit.”
Stephen realized that his grandmother was holding on to one arm and his brother the other only because he found he couldn’t move.
“Hollingsworth, see the Duke of Kenneworth and his female relations out the front door,” Lady Louise said briskly. “And make certain nothing inadvertently falls into their pockets as they leave.”
David pulled something out of his jacket pocket, and tossed it at Stephen’s feet.
He smiled pleasantly, then left the room.
Stephen watched Andrea and Irene follow after him and could hardly believe what he’d just heard.
He pulled his arms away from his grandmother and brother, then looked at Gideon.
“Wake Geoff Segrave,” he said shortly.
Gideon was already on his mobile, which Stephen appreciated. He could scarce wait to see what their attorney would have to say about the present disaster.
“I need a drink,” Lady Louise said, her voice quavering just the slightest bit. “Megan, darling, come fix me a scotch and soda. Make it very light on the soda.”
Stephen helped his grandmother into a chair, then went to pick up the envelope David had left behind.
He walked over to lean against a sturdy bookcase, snagging Peaches’s hand on his way by her.
He looked at her briefly, then opened the envelope and pulled out a photograph of something written in a vintage hand.
An IOU for a gambling debt.
Using Artane as collateral.
He felt the blood drain from his face, immediately followed by the sensation of Peaches taking the piece of paper out of his hand.
“Oh, Stephen,” she said in a very low voice, “this can’t be legitimate.”
“If it isn’t, it’s a bloody good forgery.”
“The signature’s covered up,” she said looking at it closely, “and the date, as well.”
“It wouldn’t do for us to have too many details, would it?” Stephen said. He turned to her and put his arms around her.
“Stephen—”
“I don’t care what anyone says,” he said. “Just keep me from landing on my arse for the next five minutes.”
“You could marry Andrea—”
“No.”
She sighed and put her arms around him. He rested his cheek against her hair, careful not to muss the coiffure he hadn’t yet had a chance to compliment her on, and closed his eyes.
“Let’s go back home,” he murmured, “and this time you can read Chaucer to me.”
“I don’t speak Old English.”
“Then pick something you love,” he said with a sigh, lifting his head and looking down at her. “Humphreys keeps Wodehouse in the pantry. And time-travel romances, I think.”
“Either would do,” she agreed.
Stephen sighed deeply. He was going to speak to Geoffrey Segrave first, then find some bloody historian—and he knew several—with no propensity for gossiping to have a look at the photocopy to give an opinion on its authenticity, then he was going to go for a run until he could face the fact that the paper Peaches was currently handing to John was the very image of something even he could see was genuine.
His home, gambled away by some fool. And the only way to have it back was likely to sell everything inside it and pay for David Preston’s silence. The only way to avoid that would be—
His thoughts ground to a halt.
The only way to avoid that would be providing the funds he would need without having to sell every damned thing he owned and bankrupt his father as well. Perhaps by selling a few antiquities that had been set aside for that very purpose.
Things set aside by someone in the past who might have an interest in preserving Artane for future generations.
It was absolute pants, that idea, but he had already been to medieval England once and survived. Why not another trip?
Yes, he would definitely need a bit of familial help to keep Artane from falling into the hands of a family that had, he recalled from his encounter with that first lord of Kenneworth, never had any love for his own. And he suspected he knew exactly where to find that sort of man.
And when.