Chapter 38
Nathanial
Deep in the steady flow of work, the unexpected knock at Nathanial’s door made him jump.
“Yes?” he asked, looking up, ink pen still poised over the letter he’d been writing to Daniel. Stalling opened the door and stepped in.
“The Marquess of Carmathen requests an audience, Your Grace.” Stalling’s demeanor was slightly disapproving.
Carmathen had a bit of a reputation, even among the ton.
He rarely graced ballrooms with his presence, though his title would make him welcome despite his reputation (if he was not run off by the irate husbands who detested his lack of interest in discretion when bedding their wives), and rumor had it that he might actually own a gaming hell.
No one had proven it, but just the rumor was enough to cause most of the ton to look at him askance. Bad enough to be involved in business in any way, although the strictures around that were loosening in certain circumstances, but a gaming hell was no respectable business.
What could he want with Nathanial?
Gaming hell.
More likely, he’d had business with Nathanial’s father.
“Show him in, please, Stalling.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Stalling had gone from slight disapproval to pure disapproval, but he was too good a butler not to do his duty.
Nathanial could not help but miss Daniel’s lack of standing on ceremony as he finished his missive to the man.
When they returned to Hereford Hall, he would likely leave Stalling here to help set up Hereford House once the renters had departed.
A stiffly upright butler was expected in London. Out in the country, he’d prefer someone more relaxed.
Just as Nathanial finished signing his letter, Stalling returned with the Marquess in tow.
“The Marquess of Carmathen,” Stalling announced, stepping aside for the other man to enter.
Perhaps a few years younger than Nathanial, the Marquess was several inches taller than Stalling and with broader shoulders as well.
Not just physically imposing; the way his sharp gaze moved around the room, taking in every detail, his mental acuity was obvious.
They had never met before, but Nathanial’s immediate impression was that the Marquess was both clever and dangerous.
He was dressed impeccably, despite his dissolute reputation.
The edges of his shirt collar were sharp against his square jaw, he was clean-shaven, and his dark hair was expertly styled.
Dressed in all black, other than his white shirt and neatly tied cravat, he appeared almost like a painting of what a proper gentleman should look like.
Even Stalling would not be able to complain about his appearance.
Yet there was no doubt that, even in a room with a duke, the Marquess was confident of his own standing and power.
“Carmathen.”
“Hereford.” The Marquess bowed, not quite as deeply as he should for a duke, yet close enough that no complaint could be made without appearing petulant. Nathanial’s lips twitched in amusement.
“Come, have a seat.” He gestured to the wingback leather chairs across from his desk. Carmathen prowled forward, his focus now on studying Nathanial as he chose the seat on the left and lowered himself into it.
Nathanial met his gaze steadily. Carmathen’s lips curved.
“You are not much like your father,” Carmathen observed.
A small huff of air escaped from Nathanial’s lungs as the marquess confirmed why he was there.
“I am not,” Nathanial agreed. As far as he was concerned, the Marquess had just paid him a compliment. Indeed, when Carmathen’s smile widened, it was clear he had meant it as one.
“I will be frank with you, Hereford, your father lost quite a bit gambling with me. I do not necessarily believe a son should have to pay his father’s debts when his father left him nothing… however, it seems you’ve landed on your feet.”
“Ah.” The mystery of the letter recently delivered to Nathanial suddenly became clear. He turned slightly and pulled open the uppermost right drawer on his desk, taking out the letter on top and the envelope with the seal he had not recognized. “I take it this was from you.”
“It is.” Carmathen frowned. “Did you not know?”
Nathanial slid the letter and envelope across the desk to the other man. Curiosity writ over his features, Carmathen leaned forward and picked it up. Giving the letter a brief glance, as it required nothing more in order to read it, he snorted.
“I must apologize. My steward is in charge of collecting my debts, and he has a flair for the dramatic. Although I do see he added my seal. Nothing more is usually needed, as those receiving the letter would know it immediately.”
“I did not recognize it,” Nathanial admitted. “I planned to start asking my friends if any of them did.”
“Just as well I showed up then.” Carmathen tossed the letter and envelope back onto the desk and leaned back. “Unless you wanted everyone to know we’re doing business.”
“To be honest, I would hope that the business can be concluded quickly.” He wanted everything from his father’s business done and over with. “What did my father owe you?”
The smile that flashed across Carmathen’s face was not at all reassuring.
“Your sister’s hand in marriage.”
It was like a blow to the chest.
“What?!” Shock. Outrage. Horror. He knew all of it flashed over his face before he could cover it.
Carmathen did not seem insulted at Nathanial’s reaction to such a union; if anything, he was amused.
“As he did not have the means to pay for the vowels he owed me, he offered your eldest sister. Julianna, I believe her name is?” Carmathen tilted his head. “My understanding is that she’s not out in Society yet, but she is old enough to be. Dowry free, of course.”
“You want my sister as your wife?” Nathanial sputtered. That was the only way he could describe the way the words came out of his mouth. He felt like strangling his father. But someone had already blown the bastard up.
Once more, Nathanial could only wish that someone had done it sooner.
“Well, I do need a wife and an heir, eventually. There was a certain appeal to avoiding the marriage mart altogether. And your father described her as beautiful and biddable.”
“Well, he was half right,” Nathanial drawled. Biddable? Julianna? His father must have been desperate.
“Given the family’s financial circumstances have changed, and you began paying off the debts, and since you did not answer my steward’s note, I wondered if you even knew of the vowels your father left with me.
Not just me, by the by. Our last game was with Cornwall and Trent, though neither of them was promised a sister.
Just me.” That flashing grin again. Carmathen was amused.
Nathanial had never been less so. “I decided to come in person to discuss the options.”
“Options?”
“In case you wanted to pay off the amount your father owed me, rather than providing me with a bride.”
Nathanial nearly collapsed with relief that Carmathen was going to be reasonable.
Of course, that was the first thing he would have offered, but he had no idea how intent Carmathen was on having Julianna as his bride.
He could not imagine the two had ever met.
Julianna had certainly never mentioned an engagement.
Likely, her father had not told her either.
“Yes. That would be preferable to everyone involved, I believe.” He eyed Carmathen. “Especially if you are looking for a biddable bride.”
“Ah, so she is beautiful.” Carmathen chuckled, leaning back in the chair. “I did wonder which half your father was right about.”
“Beautiful and strong-willed. I don’t believe the word ‘biddable’ has ever been used to describe her in her entire life,” Nathanial said dryly. In fact, just hearing the adjective would have Julianna spitting fire.
“Well, then. I’ll be happy to take the money and consider it a lucky escape.”
Carmathen also knew the amount due to Trent and Cornwall. The latter’s name kept sticking in Nathanial’s head. Something about it was ringing a bell, but he could not fathom why.
As usual, the amounts were astronomical.
Not the kind of money he carried around with him.
Especially with what his father owed Carmathen.
If Nathanial had not immediately sunk money into the estate and investments…
but once he’d had a return, he would be able to pay off the vowels he had to hand over to Carmathen.
The man offered to take Julianna off his hands again, biddable or not, but Nathanial refused.
Not if there was another option.
That had been the whole point of his own marriage—to allow his sisters their choice. Not for Julianna to be bartered off due to his father’s gambling.
“I suppose I shall be patient a little longer.” Carmathen patted his pocket where he’d put Nathanial’s note. “I certainly will not need a bride before next Season at the earliest.”
Nathanial glowered. Carmathen was enjoying himself far too much at Nathanial’s expense. It might even serve him right to saddle him with Julianna. She’d make his life a misery.
But he could not do that to his sister, even if Carmathen deserved it.
“You’ll have your money,” he growled. “As will Trent and Cornwall.”
“Cornwall may forgive the debt,” Carmathen commented. “He was the one who invited your father to the hunting lodge. He got sick before the trip. Devil’s own luck, that one. You could always try to appeal to his guilt.”
That was it. That was where Nathanial had heard the man’s name before. He just had not realized that his father had owed Cornwall money.
The man had not been on the trip, so it was likely no one had spoken to him about the explosion and fire. A trickle of awareness spread down Nathanial’s spine. Someone needed to question Trent.
As his mind whirled, Carmathen’s gaze unfocused, and he turned his head slightly. Before Nathanial could ask what he was about, the man sprang to his feet and was across the room in the blink of an eye, opening the door that he’d come through previously.
Nathanial’s wife and sister tumbled at his feet, Kalina tripping over Julianna, in a whirl of fabric and skirts. He shot to his feet, fingertips on the surface of his desk, staring with his mouth open. Had they been listening at the door?
Kalina
Listening through Nathanial’s study door had been frustrating, but too tempting to resist. Julianna had the better perch, with her ear to the keyhole rather than trying to listen through the thick wood. Kalina could only catch so much.
Enough to hear that Nathanial’s father had owed the man inside money. And others. The man would have never been able to pay such sums back. Had he planned on leaving all his financial troubles to Nathanial? She had not had the opportunity to meet the old duke, and now she was glad of it.
She could not fathom a parent being so uncaring of his children and their futures, so selfish as to leave them with problems he created and never even tried to solve. He got what he wanted when he was alive and left the mess for Nathanial to clean up once he was gone.
The anger she felt at a dead man she’d never met was shocking.
There was suddenly quiet in the room, and Kalina frowned, pressing her ear more firmly to the door. Had they lowered their voices for some reason?
With so much of her weight pressed against the hard wood, her knees against Julianna’s shoulders where the other woman knelt, there was nothing to keep her upright when the door suddenly gave way.
She shrieked as she tumbled forward, over Julianna, falling in a heap of skirts at the entrance to the room.
Julianna was knocked over by her own fall, leaving them both floundering at the feet of a very tall, very handsome man.
“Well, hello there.” He purred the words as he stared down at her and Julianna, his gaze flicking back and forth between them.
“Good morning.” Kalina did not know what else to say.
He held out his hand, and she took it, allowing him to help her to her feet, which was when she realized how much taller he was than her.
Or maybe he was just very good at looming.
Though he dropped his hand fairly quickly, she’d been able to feel the strength in his fingers.
Though he held his hand out to Julianna, she eschewed taking it, getting to her feet on her own with a haughty sniff.
“I am not marrying you.”
Kalina groaned inwardly as a flash of something flared in the man’s dark eyes. She could have told Julianna that some men took such blunt statements as challenges—and those were not men to trifle with.
Thankfully, Nathanial had gathered his wits and was coming around his desk to take control of the situation.
“Kalina, Julianna, this is the Marquess of Carmathen. Carmathen, this is my wife, the Duchess of Hereford, and my sister, Lady Julianna.”
“Your Grace.” Carmathen bowed to her. Then he turned to Julianna, a dangerous smile flashing across his lips. “Lady Julianna.” The way he said her name was like a caress, and Julianna sucked in a breath as her eyes went wide.
Nathanial appeared as though he wanted to punch the marquess, but of course, he could not.
The man had not actually done anything.
“I think I need to speak with my wife and sister privately,” Nathanial said, giving Carmathen a dark look.
“Of course.” The marquess smiled at Julianna and winked at her. “It was a pleasure to finally meet you, little fox.” She bristled, and Nathanial’s face went red while Kalina watched, fascinated. The marquess turned to her and gave her another bow. “Your Grace.”
And with that, he was gone, whisking his way out the door and closing it behind him.
Nathanial scowled.
“You are both in so much trouble.”