Chapter 1
“My Lord.” The gentle voice of his butler prodded William from sleep.
Groaning, he turned over and buried his face in the pillow.
“My Lord.” Again, came the butler’s voice, like an insistent prodding that jerked William into wakefulness.
The moment he opened his eyes, everything screamed.
“I must apologize for my insistence, but five of your closest acquaintances are in the drawing room, determined to speak with you. Lord Stoneleigh is in a somewhat injured state.”
“Injured?” Keeping his eyes closed, William flung one hand over them as he turned over. “What do you mean?”
The butler cleared his throat gently.
“I believe that he has been stabbed, my Lord.” The butler’s voice remained calm, but his words blunt. “A surgeon has already seen to him, but his arm may be damaged permanently, I was told.”
“Permanently?” The shock that flooded through William forced his eyes open as he pushed himself up on his elbows. “Are you quite certain?”
“Yes, my Lord. I did, of course, inquire whether there was anything the gentleman needed, but he stated that the only thing required was for him to speak with you.”
“And he is well?”
The butler blinked.
“As well as can be expected, my Lord.”
William nodded slowly, but then wished he had not, given the pain in his head.
“Must it be at this very moment?” he moaned, as the butler looked at him, the dipping of his mouth appearing a little unsympathetic. “I do not wish to appear heartless but my head…” Squeezing his eyes closed, he let out a heavy sigh. “Can they not wait until I am a little recovered?”
The butler shook his head.
“I apologize, my Lord, but I was told that they wish to speak to you urgently and that they would not leave until they had spoken with you. That is why I came to you at once. It appears most severe indeed.”
“I see.” William realized that he had no other choice but to rise, pushing one hand through his hair as the pain in his head grew. “This is most extraordinary. Whatever is it that they wish to speak to me about so urgently?”
“I could not say, my Lord.” The butler stood dutifully back as William tried to rise from his bed. “Your valet is waiting outside the door; shall I fetch him?”
“Yes.” William’s head was pounding, and he grimaced as he attempted to remove his legs from the sheets.
They appeared to be tangled in them, and it took him some time to extricate himself, hampered entirely by the pain in his head.
“I am sure that, after last night, my friends must also be feeling the effects of a little too much enjoyment,” he muttered aloud. “Why then-”
Shock tore through him as he suddenly realized that he could not recall what had happened the previous evening.
He could not even remember how he had made his way home.
A heaviness dropped into the pit of his stomach, although there was no explanation for why he felt such a thing.
Had something happened last night that he had forgotten about?
“Jefferies.” Moving forward so that his valet could help him dress, William glanced at his butler who had been on his way out the door. “You may speak freely. Was I in something of a sorry state when I returned home last evening?”
There was no flicker of a smile in the butler’s eyes. His expression remained entirely impassive.
“No, my Lord, you were not in your cups. You were entirely unconscious.”
William blinked rapidly.
“Unconscious?”
The butler nodded.
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Are you quite sure?”
The butler lifted one eyebrow.
“Yes, my Lord. The carriage arrived, but no one emerged. Your coachman and I made certain that you were safe in your bed very soon afterward, however.”
Confusion marred William’s brow. It was most unlike him to drink so very much that he became lost in drunkenness. He could not recall the last time he had done so. A little merry, perhaps, but never to the point of entirely losing his consciousness.
How very strange.
Shoving his fingers through his short, dark hair in an attempt to soothe the ache, William winced suddenly as his fingers found a rather large bump on the side of his head. Wincing, he traced it gingerly.
That certainly was not there yesterday.
It seemed that the pain in his head was not from drinking a little too much, but rather from whatever had collided with his head.
A little concerned that he had been involved in some sort of fight – again, entirely out of character for him – he now wondered if his friends were present to make certain that he was either quite well or willing to take on whatever consequences now faced him.
William urged his valet to hurry. Did not my butler say that Lord Stoneleigh was injured?
Surely, I could not have been the one to do such a thing as that!
“I am glad to see you a little recovered, my Lord.” The butler’s voice remained a dull monotone. “Should I bring you something to drink? Refreshments were offered to your acquaintances, but they were refused.”
“Coffee, please.”
The pain in his head was lingering still, in all its strength, but William ignored it.
A new sense of urgency settled over him as he hurried from his bedchamber and made his way directly to the drawing room.
Conversation was already taking place as he stepped inside, only to stop dead as he entered the room.
His five acquaintances, whom he had stepped out with the previous evening, all turned to look at him as one.
Fear began to tie itself around William’s heart.
“Lord Stoneleigh.” William put out one hand towards his friend. “You are injured, my butler tells me.”
His friend nodded but his eyes remained a little wide.
“I am, but that is not the reason we are here. We must know if you are in the same situation as we all find ourselves at present?”
The question made very little sense to William, and he took a moment to study Lord Stoneleigh before turning to the rest of his friends.
“The same situation?” he repeated. “Forgive me, I do not understand.”
“We should never have set foot in that seedy place.” Lord Thornbridge pushed one hand through his hair, adding to its disarray.
Silently, William considered that it appeared as though Lord Thornbridge had been doing such a thing for many hours.
“It was I who became aware of it first. I spoke to the others, and they are all in the same situation. You are the only one we have not yet spoken to.”
“I do not understand what you mean.” More confused than ever, William spread his hands. “What situation is it that you speak of?”
It was Lord Wiltsham who spoke first. Every other gentleman was staring at William as though they had some dreadful news to impart but did not quite know how to say it.
“My friend, we have lost our fortunes.”
Shock poured into William’s heart. He stared back at Lord Wiltsham uncomprehendingly.
“Your fortunes?”
“Yes. Some more, some less but a good deal of wealth is gone from us all.”
William closed his eyes, his chest tight. How could this be?
“He does not know.” William’s eyes flew open, swinging towards Lord Pottinger as he looked at the others. “He cannot tell us either.”
“Tell you?” William’s voice was hoarse. “What is it that you mean? How can you have lost your fortunes? What is it you were expecting to hear from me?”
He stared at one gentleman, then moved his gaze to the next.
These gentlemen were his friends, and how they could have lost so much coin in one evening was incomprehensible to him.
They were not foolish gentlemen. Yes, they enjoyed cards and gambling and the like on occasion, but they would never have been so lacking in wisdom, regardless of how much they had imbibed.
“Some of us do not wish to say it, but it is true.” Lord Silverton glanced at William, then looked away. “We have realized that our fortunes have been lost. Some have a little more left than others, but we are now in great difficulty.”
William shook his head.
“It cannot be. You are all gentlemen with wisdom running through you. You would not behave so without consideration! I cannot believe that you have all willingly set your coin into the hands of others. You would not do such a thing to your family name.”
Lord Stoneleigh was the next to speak.
“I fear you may also be in the same situation, my friend.” His eyes were dull, his face pale – although mayhap that came from his injury.
“You are correct that we are gentlemen of wisdom, but making our way to that part of London last evening was not wise. It appears that certain gentlemen - or those masquerading as gentlemen - have taken our coin from us in ways that are both unscrupulous and unfair.”
Fire tore through William as he again shook his head.
“I would never give away my fortune to the point of poverty,” he declared determinedly. “I am certain I would not have done so.”
“As we thought also.” Lord Pottinger threw up his hands.
“But you find us now without fortune, leaving us struggling for the remainder of our days. That is, unless we can find a way to recover it from those unscrupulous sorts who have taken it from us… although how we are to prove that they have done so is quite beyond me.”
William took a deep breath. He was quite certain that he would never have behaved in such a foolish way as was being suggested, but the fear that lingered in his friend’s eyes was enough to unsettle him.
If it was as they said, then he might well discover himself to be in the same situation as they.
“I am quite sure that I cannot…” Trailing off at the heaviness in each of his friend’s eyes, William sighed, nodded, and rose to his feet. “I will have my man of business discover the truth,” he declared, as his friends glanced at each other. “It cannot be as you say. I would certainly never…”