Chapter Twenty
Fletcher hoped that, when his butler announced that the Duke of Rotherfeld had come to call, Rotherfeld had come to his senses.
Alas.
Fletcher had been holed up in his office for most of the morning with Richard Cox, a capable accountant and business manager who had taken over the management of the Greystone estate and business holdings after the previous marquess’s death.
He met with Fletcher regularly to make reports and ask for final decisions.
Fletcher had sold a few of the estate’s holdings, and Mr. Cox informed him that he did have enough on-hand to buy out Rotherfeld’s share in the Shropshire sheep farm—“Say that five times fast!” Fletcher had joked, but Mr. Cox did not appear to appreciate this—but Mr. Cox had also been digging into Anthony’s idea for how to thwart Rotherfeld financially, and also found it sound.
But now Rotherfeld stood in Fletcher’s study and said, “I heard what you said last night, but I’m not interested.”
“You came all this way to say you’re not interested?” said Fletcher, not believing him. There was no reason to have come all the way to Fletcher’s house if the answer was a flat no. Fletcher figured Rotherfeld had come to negotiate.
“The reputational damage—”
Fletcher wanted to grab Rotherfeld by the embroidered lapels of his very expensive jacket.
“Let me put this more plainly,” Fletcher said.
“You think this is a negotiation, but it is not. You will not be marrying Louisa. You can come to the church if you like, but she’ll refuse you, or not show up at the church at all.
You can threaten Lord Petty if you like, but I’ll buy Petty out of his share of the farm, and then you will have to do business with me.
And let me warn you, I may seem mild-mannered, but I am willing to fight to the ends of the Earth for the people I love.
And I love Louisa. So if you carry on with the wedding, or if you touch so much as a hair on her head, I will make you regret it. ”
Mr. Cox sat at the desk and made a tsk sound. Fletcher didn’t care for his judgment. He needed Rotherfeld to understand he was opposing the wrong man, and that Fletcher’s patience for this nonsense had run out.
Rotherfeld’s face paled.
“The way I see it,” Fletcher went on, “you can end the engagement quietly now, we’ll all agree that things just didn’t work out, and Louisa and I will marry in a small ceremony at the end of the season.
We won’t call attention to it, people will forget it ever happened.
But if you persist in this delusion that Louisa is somehow the answer to your problems and not a flesh-and-blood woman with her own wants and desires, then I will ensure myself that your humiliation is maximal. ”
This seemed to, finally, chasten Rotherfeld. “What do you plan to do?”
Fletcher shrugged. “Not me. Louisa plans to jilt you. Would you really like for that to happen in front of rows of society’s finest, sitting in pews in a church?”
Rotherfeld frowned.
“You forget also,” Fletcher said, “that I know your secrets. I saw you at your club. I don’t know if you are still having an affair with Lieutenant Hanley, but I know you did.
There were several prominent witnesses to your trying to woo young Epperson.
I am not above having a friend leak something to the scandal sheets.
You want to talk about reputational damage?
What will happen to you if the ton finds out Louisa jilted you because you’re a sodomite?
What would happen if I told Lord Petty? If I told the whole ton? ”
Fletcher hadn’t intended to go so hard. He hadn’t intended to be brutal. But he was tired of having this debate with Rotherfeld. He wanted it to be made clear that Fletcher had all the cards here.
Rotherfeld didn’t say anything. He stared at the ground. He seemed to be thinking.
“Have you nothing to say?” Fletcher asked.
“You threaten me with this?”
“I don’t want to. Like I said, my preference would be for us to end the engagement quietly.
Louisa will send your regrets to the wedding guests.
Louisa and I won’t say anything publicly.
We’ll have a small wedding six weeks hence, no one will remember any of this come next season.
We don’t need to make this a whole to-do, unless you fail to see reason.
Let Louisa go, and all of this goes away. ”
Rotherfeld nodded slowly. “And what of my investment?”
“As soon as you leave,” Fletcher said, “I am going to go to the Petty residence and offer to buy Lord Petty’s half of the farm.
Maybe he can’t afford to lose the money, but my man Mr. Cox here assures me I can.
I’d prefer not to, but Louisa is more important to me than the money, so I’ve removed that bit of leverage.
You and I can do business perhaps, or you can buy me out and we have nothing to do with each other again. ”
“I see.”
“The rest is all your reputation. So we can handle this quietly now or publicly on Saturday.”
Fletcher felt he’d done all he could here.
He didn’t want to be half-owner of a sheep farm, but he’d make the most of it if he had to.
If the farm were profitable, which it seemed to be, perhaps Rotherfeld would buy out Fletcher’s half anyway.
Buying out Petty instead of Rotherfeld had been Anthony’s big idea, and Fletcher liked it because it gave him all the leverage now.
“So, let me sum up,” Rotherfeld said. “You will buy out Petty’s half of the investment.
And you will likely try to make my life as hard as you can financially.
And if I don’t end the engagement, Louisa will jilt me at the altar, and you will leak my affairs to the scandal sheets. Do I have that right?”
“You do. And if you agree today to end the engagement with Louisa, none of that happens. Well, I will still own half a sheep farm and we can further negotiate that, but everything else stays quiet.”
“I see.”
“Have we reached an understanding?” Fletcher asked.
Rotherfeld dropped his head and stared at the ground again. Then he looked up at Fletcher. He nodded. “We have.”
“Perhaps while I speak with Lord Petty this afternoon,” Fletcher said, “you can speak with Lady Louisa.”
“Perhaps I should.”
“I knew you’d see reason.”
* * *
Louisa was not normally one to succumb to despair, but she tossed aside her ruined embroidery and nearly cried. She was glad she had not actually cried, though, when the butler announced that the Duke of Rotherfeld and the Marquess of Greystone had arrived.
That was odd enough, but then only Daniel darkened the sitting room doorway.
“Did you do away with Greystone on your way here from the door?” she asked.
“No,” said Daniel, looking affronted. “He is speaking with your father.”
“Oh.” What did this all mean? “The two of you arrived together.”
Daniel looked down. “Greystone has given me an ultimatum. He has told me either I must end the engagement with you in private now, or he will publicly humiliate me at our wedding. And frankly, I’d prefer to avoid public humiliation.”
Louisa’s heart warmed. She was a little surprised at Fletcher’s ruthlessness, but she was glad for it, too. He’d held up his end of the bargain. He was going to do whatever it took. She assumed he’d gone to talk with Father to sort out the details.
“I suppose,” Daniel said, “I did not realize the extent to which our continued engagement was distressing you.”
“I did try to tell you.”
“You must understand the position I’m in.”
Something in Louisa snapped. She hoped her mother was not in earshot for what she was about to say but couldn’t risk closing the door if this engagement was about to end.
“Here’s what I know,” she said, in a hiss of a whisper.
“As a woman, I have almost no power to choose who I marry, nor do I have a way around the fact that I must marry if I want any semblance of independence from my family. My father has never put pressure on me to marry and likely will continue to support me for the rest of my life if I need that, but I don’t want that.
I want more freedom of movement than that.
So I knew that, when you offered for me, it was a step toward independence. ”
“I can still give you that.”
“No, you can’t. Not with what I know now. That you view me as a means to an end. Well, Greystone and I may have acted foolishly, but I know, at least, that he views me as a person, and that if we marry, we’ll be true partners, and that is what I want for myself.”
Daniel frowned.
Louisa took a step closer. “I know also,” she said as quietly as she could, “because my friends are terrible gossips, that there are others in society like you. It’s not my place to disclose their secrets, and I can’t know your specific circumstance, but there’s no reason I can see why you and, say, Lieutenant Hanley could not live a perfectly satisfactory life away from the social swirl of London. ”
“Satisfactory,” Daniel spat. “You know nothing, Louisa.”
“Perhaps not about that, you’re right. But the truth under everything is that I know I cannot marry you and I do not want to.
I know that if we end our engagement, Fletcher will have me, and I know that, if a wife is truly what you want, there is another woman out there who will have you.
And I think Fletcher’s right. It is better to quietly end things away from the gaze of our peers, rather than waiting for me to publicly jilt you. ”
Daniel frowned, but then he nodded slowly. “You talk a great deal, did you know that?”
“People have mentioned.”
“When Fletcher is done, I will speak with your parents. If you agree that this is what you want, I will end the engagement.”
Louisa tried not to let triumph show too much on her face. Her relief was palpable. “Thank you.”
“I do like you, Louisa. I think we could have made something of our lives. Although perhaps not if you are in love with Greystone.”
“As I said, he and I were fools not to recognize it sooner, and if we had it would have saved a lot of grief, but here we are. I’m sorry, Daniel, that things did not work out, and I truly hope you find happiness in the future, but it cannot be with me.”
“Well, thank you for that. I am sorry, too, for what it’s worth.”
She didn’t believe his sincerity, but she asked, “What made you change your mind?”
Daniel just shook his head. “Your Greystone can be quite persuasive when he wants to be. I believe I underestimated him. He is rather more…cunning than I expected.”
Louisa couldn’t help but smile at that. Fletcher often played like he was a happy-go-lucky, idle member of the ton, but he could be ruthless when the occasion called for it.
Louisa had witnessed it herself in all the ways he’d defended her when she’d gotten herself into trouble as a child. And it seemed he’d done it again.
Fletcher always came through for her. She didn’t need to know what he’d said to Daniel, just that whatever he’d done, it had persuaded Daniel, finally, to let this go. And for that, Louisa would always be grateful to Fletcher.
“I should…I should go speak with your father,” Daniel said, beginning to back out of the room.
“Good-bye, Daniel.”
He waved his hand but then left the room.
Louisa spent the next period of time—it could have been twenty minutes, it could have been three hours, she was too nervous to find out—mostly pacing or sitting on her hands or stabbing at her embroider project.
When at least Fletcher appeared in the doorway, she felt such an immense relief that she launched off the sofa and into his arms. He let out a huff of laughter as he caught her but then, with his hands firmly on her waist, he picked her up and placed her a foot away from himself.
Louisa’s parents arrived a moment later.
“The Duke of Rotherfeld has departed,” said Father.
“This is quite a turn of events,” said Mother. “He’s a duke.”
“Yes,” said Father, “but we’ve known Fletcher his entire life, and we know him to be kind and trustworthy, and I am not at all certain Rotherfeld shares those same traits. And I’d much rather our Louisa be safe and happy than to worry about her status.”
“Yes, but…a duke.”
“And Fletcher is a wealthy marquess.”
“Is he less wealthy now?” Louisa asked. She worried he’d had to make a big financial sacrifice to free Father from the commitment to Daniel, and she hated that possibility and hated Daniel a bit for engineering it.
But then Father said, “No. I sold my share of the farm back to Rotherfeld for a good price. It took some persuasion, but he finally agreed. We left Fletcher out of the transaction entirely.”
Louisa wondered what that persuasion entailed; she wondered if Fletcher had found some evidence of wrongdoing on Daniel’s part to use as leverage. She couldn’t imagine Daniel would so easily part with his money otherwise.
“I hope,” Fletcher said, “that you do not need a big wedding, because part of the agreement was that you and I shall marry in a small ceremony at the end of the season so as to not draw an exclamation point at the end of the broken engagement with Rotherfeld.”
“I care not at all as long as we marry,” Louisa said.
Fletcher smiled. “Then that is what we shall do.”
Louisa looked at her parents. “So that’s it? Everything with Rotherfeld is over? Fletcher and I can marry?”
“Yes, my dear,” said Father.
Louisa could not keep herself from letting out an excited squeal. She grabbed Fletcher’s hand. He laughed, perhaps caught upon her enthusiasm.
Mother sighed. “All right. We must write some letters telling people not to come to the church on Saturday. Perhaps you will help, Louisa.”
“Of course.” It would be unpleasant work, but worth it in the long run.
Louisa was free now. And she’d marry Fletcher, and the two of them would be happy together for the end of their days. The only downside was that she’d have to wait until the end of the Season for the rest of her life to begin, when she wanted it to begin right now.
She wanted to spend the rest of the day with Fletcher, planning their future, making plans, or just spending time in each other’s company. But it was not meant to be.
Fletcher leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“Forgive my haste, but I left my man of business pacing in my house, and I must give him the news that we will not need to part with a great deal of money after all. And that I think, perhaps, I should like to take my soon-to-be-wife on a spectacular honeymoon instead. Perhaps to Vienna. Or Milan.”
A thrill went through Louisa’s chest. “Oh, I have always wanted to see La Scala!”
She wanted to tell Fletcher she loved him, but not in front of her parents. Instead, she smiled at him. And she began a new scheme.