Chapter 9 #2
The office wasn’t large, but it was imposing, with a large desk and a wall of bookshelves. The fireplace was encased in marble, and a fantastic Reynolds was displayed on the wall above the mantel. A pair of dark green chairs sat before the hearth.
“Shall we sit for a moment?” Lord Lucien asked.
A moment seemed to indicate he intended them to have a short conversation. “Certainly.” Bennet sat in one of the chairs and Lucien took the other.
“You didn’t come here for brandy,” Bennet said, noting that his host had closed the door behind them when they’d come inside.
“No. I wanted to talk to you about your membership. I wonder if you might not be comfortable here after all.”
Bennet’s mind worked through that rather quickly. “You want me to resign?”
“It might be best.”
Anger pricked at Bennet, but he tamped it down. “You were quite eager to have me join.”
Lord Lucien rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. “Yes, and I wonder if we weren’t premature.”
“I believe you were desperate to have me attend an assembly so I could court your sister,” Bennet said blandly, again trying to keep a rein on his ire.
“That’s true. To be frank, we worked very hard to get you approved because Cassandra asked me to.”
“And now you regret it.” He tried not to sound irritated, but it was very difficult. “I thought the Phoenix Club welcomed those who were often excluded elsewhere.” That certainly fit Bennet.
Lord Lucien frowned, deep furrows lining his brow. “We do.”
“I won’t resign,” Bennet said. “Will you expel me?”
“We haven’t ever expelled anyone.” Lord Lucien grimaced before adding, “Not permanently.”
“I’d like to stay. As it happens, I find I’m rather unpopular at the moment since the news of my financial situation became known.”
Again, Lord Lucien grimaced. “That’s somewhat my fault. I’m the one who told my father, and he decided to share it with all of White’s.”
“I suppose I should expect expulsion from there too.”
Lord Lucien shook his head. “I’m not expelling you.”
Bennet finally relaxed. “Thank you.”
“Though I do wonder how you can afford the membership fees.”
Thankfully, they were less than other clubs, but Lord Lucien made a good point. Perhaps Bennet should resign from everything, even if it did cast him deeper into the pit of public disdain.
“You’re right,” Lord Lucien continued. “We do invite those who aren’t always welcome everywhere else. It’s just that, and let me be perfectly honest, we don’t know you very well. It’s rather embarrassing to me that we extended you an invitation without realizing your financial state.”
“If I decide I can afford the fee, does it matter?” Perhaps Bennet didn’t want to be a member.
Lord Lucien’s eyes hardened. “It does when you misrepresent yourself and try to trick my sister into marriage.”
“This is a purely personal issue, then.” Bennet understood. He didn’t have siblings, but he would do anything to protect his family. “I have apologized to Lady Wexford. My behavior was quite poor.”
“You weren’t the first to do that to a young lady, and you won’t be the last. It’s just that she is my sister.”
“I understand. If I had a sister, I believe I would be equally outraged. Would you really like me to leave the club?” Bennet hoped not.
The ability to perhaps see Prudence wasn’t the only reason he wanted to stay.
With his invitations all but dried up, he needed somewhere to go to meet potential brides.
“No, stay. But don’t withhold information.”
Bennet would never agree to that. There were things he wouldn’t reveal to anyone. “I shall do my best.” That was all he could say.
Lord Lucien stood and went to the sideboard to pour a drink. Bennet sipped his whiskey, liking it even more now than when he’d first sampled it.
“I am sorry for your troubles,” Lord Lucien said, retaking his seat. “Can I ask what you’re doing to resolve your situation?”
Bennet let out a hollow laugh. “That’s all but impossible.
My father gambled away everything. Well, nearly everything.
If you came to Aberforth Place, you would find a mostly empty estate.
” Dozens of rooms were completely unfurnished.
Others had a chair or perhaps a table. “I’m doing my best to keep things together, but the fact is that the estate hasn’t earned enough to support the way my father lived for years.
He dug himself a rather deep hole, and I’m struggling to repay his debts.
” There. He’d laid it all out. “I haven’t expressed the situation quite so plainly to anyone before.
May I ask you keep it to yourself?” His lips tried to form a weak smile and failed, so he sipped his whiskey instead.
“Most certainly. Would it help to learn of investment opportunities, something that might help you make some blunt in the short term?”
“Yes, but I’ve precious little to invest.” He’d have to sell something else, and his resources were dwindling.
Prudence’s ring was heavy around his finger, but he wouldn’t sell it.
It gave him solace, as if she were close and sharing her quiet strength.
“That’s why I need to marry an heiress. Then I will have money to invest as well as the ability to repay my father’s debts.
Furthermore, the estate needs attention so that it may become profitable. ”
“It isn’t now?” Lucien asked.
“Not for some time.” Aberforth Place didn’t even have a steward. The last one had left more than two years ago when Bennet’s father had stopped paying his salary.
Lord Lucien looked into the fire, his expression contemplative.
“Dare I hope you’re considering ways to help me?” Bennet asked. “I understand that’s what you do.”
“It is.” He tipped his head back and forth. “To the best of my ability.” He looked back to Bennet. “You really want an heiress?”
“I need one.” In truth, he didn’t want a wife at all.
Lord Lucien nodded. “Let me think on it. I hope you’ll continue to let down your guard with me. If I help you, we will be friends. And if we’re friends, we trust each other. Do you agree?”
“I do.”
“Good. You must call me Lucien. Come to the assembly Friday. I will introduce you to as many heiresses as I can.”
Bennet finished his whisky. “I appreciate that very much, thank you. And I look forward to it.”
Not because of the heiresses, but in the hope that Prudence would be there.
Tonight was only the second time Prudence had been out in Society since returning to London. Being Kat’s companion was far different from when she’d been companion to Fiona and Cassandra. They had participated in the Season. Kat preferred to spend time at museums, walking in the park, or reading.
“I’m not staying past midnight,” Kat grumbled from beside Prudence on the rear-facing seat of the coach.
“Oh come, you’ll have fun,” Cassandra said. “You’ve been to an assembly at the Phoenix Club before. You must admit it’s far more entertaining than any other events.”
“I suppose that’s true. But I’m still leaving at midnight.”
“That’s fine,” Wexford said placidly, rarely ruffled by his sister’s quirks. “I only thought it would be nice for you to get out. And I don’t mean to the park or to wander around Covent Garden.”
Kat shrugged. “I like to see the city. Can you blame me?”
Wexford exhaled, then smiled at his sister. “No.”
Not bothering to hide her smug expression, Kat leaned her head back against the seat.
She was dressed simply, but elegantly, her dark hair sporting a single scarlet feather that she’d insisted upon wearing despite Cassandra arguing that it didn’t suit her pale pink gown.
Kat had responded with “What do I care? It’s not as if I’m trying to attract a suitor. ”
Perhaps not, but she was very pretty and the sister of a wealthy earl. She could probably wear a sack over her head and still attract suitors.
The idea of a sack over her head reminded Prudence of when that had actually happened to her.
Instead of feeling a shock of anger or relief at having escaped that situation, she was filled with the desire to do it all over again.
Which was asinine. Just because things had turned out well didn’t mean she should have wanted it to happen.
Wexford’s coach stopped in front of the Phoenix Club. A groom opened the door and a few minutes later, Prudence followed them into the ladies’ entrance.
Cassandra hung back a bit and moved next to Prudence. “Are you all right? I know this is an odd time to ask, but I can’t help myself.”
“Of course, I am.” Prudence allowed a bemused smile. “Why can’t you help yourself?”
“Because I care about you very much. You’ve been different since your return. I know you don’t wish to speak of your time away, but I’d like to be of help. I consider you my friend.”
“I appreciate that—and you,” Prudence said. “I am fine, truly. It’s an adjustment going from your companion to Kat’s.”