Chapter Five
Graham
Graham stared at the gossip column that his new secretary, Wilms, had left for him on his desk that morning.
It wasn’t hard to surmise that the post about “a certain new earl” and “a particular lady of impeccable breeding” discovered in “circumstances most compromising” at the Fletcher ball was about him and Diana.
He tossed the paper aside as just another reminder of how he’d failed them both.
He had been weak. But the memory of Diana’s rain-dampened dress clinging to her curves, the way her breath had hitched when he’d leaned closer, sent heat flooding right back through him as if it were occurring all over again.
He hadn’t fully accepted it yet and probably wouldn’t until he stood at the altar in a week’s time and spoke his vows. If he could manage to keep his new brother-in-law from killing him before then. The meeting with Diana’s brother just an hour ago had been a special kind of torture.
But he had allocated that Diana’s entire dowry would be in her control. Thirty thousand pounds would certainly go a long way to help him out of his situation with Rothwell, but he wouldn’t take from her to do it.
Even still, Elias was still hostile, to put it mildly. He wouldn’t even allow Graham to see his betrothed until tomorrow.
If her brother was this incensed, he could only imagine how her father was going to react when he arrived in town.
He should feel terrible, and he did. But when he allowed himself a brief moment to think about what it would be like to be married to Diana, it made his pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with nerves.
What would she look like on their wedding night, with her golden hair loose around her shoulders and her body bare before him?
If that is what she wished. If she had no interest in intimacy in their marriage. That would be torturous, but he’d honor her wishes. Besides he was being nothing more than a cad for thinking about such things when there were far more pressing matters.
His correspondence, for starters. He had to write to his mother and to John about this turn of events and he wasn’t certain how to explain it without sounding like a complete fool.
He’d just sent letters not a week ago informing them of the inheritance after he’d been hauled to London.
And his mother might suffer apoplexy when she found out about his upcoming wedding.
If he had the time to go speak with her directly, he would.
But he already had more on his plate than he knew how to manage, even with the secretary and valet that he employed with funds that needed to be saved to pay Rothwell. But a man could only handle so much on his own, and he needed to keep up appearances.
Graham moved to the writing desk in what had been his cousin’s study, still unable to think of any of this as truly his. He pulled out a sheet of crisp parchment, letting his pen hover over the page for a long moment before he began.
Mother,
Please take a deep breath as you read this. I must share news that will come as quite the surprise, though I pray you will find it welcome. I am to be married within the week to Lady Diana Armstrong, eldest daughter of the Earl of Snowdon.
I know this is sudden, and I regret that circumstances prevent me from explaining the situation in person. The attachment formed quite unexpectedly, but I expect you will be quite fond of my betrothed.
I understand your reluctance to travel to London, but I do hope you might reconsider attending the wedding.
Your devoted son,
Graham
He sealed the letter with more force than necessary, splattering the wax.
The truth was far more complicated than he could commit to paper.
How could he explain that he’d lost himself in a passionate kiss with a woman he’d just met, been caught in a compromising position, and was now bound to marry her?
His mother would think he’d taken after his father.
Though perhaps he had. Because now that he’d kissed her once, he knew it would never be enough, and the desire he had for her was only growing. The taste of Diana’s lips was all he could think about when he’d laid down to sleep last night.
Then there was the way she’d looked at him, as if she truly saw him rather than the title that never should have been his. The way her mind worked, quick and sharp. He found himself wondering what she thought about everything, what made her laugh, what books she preferred.
And then an idea came to him. Something that he knew would hold meaning to her. Something that he could do that might begin to make up for the situation he put them in.
He picked up his pen again and began his second letter.
John,
Hopefully you have the chance to read this before my mother, or I have little doubt she has already given you an earful on the matter.
I’m to be married to Lady Diana Armstrong within the week. I know this comes as a surprise, so please do your best to calm my mother.
This also means our arrangement regarding the horses must continue exactly as we discussed. I’ll be establishing my household here in London for the immediate future while I sort through the demands of the title and a new bride.
I have one urgent request of you. Please send Luna to London immediately after you receive this. Have her brought by our most trusted groom, as she’ll be a gift for my bride.
You will do well to continue on with the business.
Your cousin,
Graham
Graham rang for his butler, Mitchell. “Have these dispatched immediately by messenger. They must reach their destination today.”
“Of course, my lord.” The man took the missives and departed, closing the door behind him.
Only a few moments had passed before there was a knock at the door again.
“Come,” he called, and Mitchell appeared just inside the door again.
“A gentleman to see you, my lord. Mr. Silas Rothwell.”
Graham’s chest tightened. He’d been dreading this visit, but hoped the man might take a bit more time. But from the letters he’d already received, he could tell that patience wasn’t the man’s strong suit. “Show him to the morning room. I’ll be along shortly.”
When the butler departed, Graham allowed himself exactly thirty seconds to panic.
His pulse raced as he considered what he would even say.
Forty-five thousand pounds. His dissolute cousin hadn’t left any funds available.
Only properties, a couple of which were already mortgaged.
He needed more time to sort through it all and determine what he would do.
He straightened his shoulders and made his way to face the blackguard his cousin ran up gambling debts with. The man who had become Graham’s problem he didn’t want nor ask for.
Rothwell stood with his back to the door, examining a landscape painting. He was younger than Graham had expected, perhaps in his thirties, with a silver streak in his hair and the slimy look of someone who’d never done honest work.
“Lord Powis,” Rothwell said without turning. “How delightful of you to receive me.”
“Mr. Rothwell.” Graham kept his voice level. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Oh, I think we both know why I’m here.” The man finally faced him, his pale eyes riddled with amusement. “I trust you’ve had time to prepare my funds given the notes I hold?”
“I’m still reviewing the estate records. These matters take time—”
“Time?” Rothwell scoffed. “My lord, your cousin’s debts have been accruing interest for months. So I have reached the end of my generosity. And I am out of time to wait.”
Sweat gathered at the base of Graham’s neck. “I understand the urgency. However, liquidating assets of this magnitude requires careful consideration—”
“I don’t care how you get my money.” Rothwell cut him off as he moved closer. “I wonder, does your charming betrothed know your situation? Lady Diana, isn’t it? You’ve done well for yourself to be sure. And quickly, too. I’m sure her dowry will be a nice start to paying me what I’m owed.”
The threat struck him. Graham’s hands clenched at his sides, willing himself not to plant the man a deserved facer. “Stay away from her. She is hardly your concern.”
“On the contrary. Until I have my funds, everything is my concern.” Rothwell smiled, showing too many teeth. “But I’m a reasonable man. Shall we say… three weeks? That should give you sufficient time to arrange matters.”
Three weeks. His wedding was in a matter of days, and then he’d have to quickly do what he could to raise the funds and expedite the sale of his chosen properties. “And if I cannot—”
“Oh, but you will.” Rothwell adjusted his gloves with deliberate care.
“Because the alternative would be most unfortunate for your new family. The Earl of Snowdon has such a sterling reputation, even if his son used to be a frequent patron at the tables before he went and fell in love. It would be tragic if you were the one to bring that perfect family to their knees before the ton… and your pretty little wife left as nothing but a cast out widow.”
Graham’s vision blurred with fury. “Keep your threats directed at me and leave my betrothed and her family out of this.”
“Then I shall expect my funds.” Rothwell moved toward the door, pausing at the threshold. “Three weeks and not a day longer, my lord. I do hope you won’t disappoint me.”
And with that, the man was gone, leaving Graham to contemplate what he must do next.
He wasn’t even certain if he could close a sale on a single property in that amount of time. And likely not at a loss.
His hands shook as he reached for the crystal decanter on the side table and poured himself a generous measure of brandy. The liquid burned his throat, but it helped steady his nerves enough to think clearly.
He returned to his study on unsteady legs and collapsed into the chair behind the desk. Graham buried his face in his hands. He should call off the engagement. If it wouldn’t ruin her and her entire family, he would. But it was far too late for that.