“Yes, Willicombe?”
“I just wanted to tell you, Miss Carrick, if you’ll forgive my impertinence, that I have a cousin who worked for Lord Renfrew. My cousin said his lordship was a smarmy, mean-spirited man, the kind who would seduce a parlor maid and pat himself on the back for his virility. Never said a thank-you to any of his servants. It was my cousin Quincy who told Lord Renfrew’s tailor, Mr. Huff, that his chances for gaining money owed him were not good. Quincy had no idea, of course, that Mr. Huff would come to you with his hand out. Still, it turned out for the best, didn’t it?”
“Yes, indeed it did. What a very small world it is.” Willicombe gave her a small bow and she walked up the stairs, only to stop again halfway up. “Do you know what happened to Lord Renfrew, Willicombe?”
“His lordship married a Miss Ann Brainerd of York. Her father owns many canals criss-crossing the north country, and made his fortune carrying goods up and down those canals. Now trains are making the canals obsolete because goods are transported much more cheaply and quickly that way. It’s rumored Lord Renfrew hasn’t gained as much from the marriage as he’d expected. Evidently, his wife’s father realized quickly enough that Lord Renfrew wasn’t a man of sterling character.”
“Well, that’s some justice, isn’t it?”
“Except for her poor ladyship.”
“There must always be someone who loses, Willicombe.”
“Yes, miss, isn’t that the truth?”
“Your cousin, what did he do for Lord Renfrew?”
“He was his lordship’s lead coachman both here in London and at his estate in the country.”
“What is your cousin doing now, Willicombe?”
“He is a junior coachman for Lady Pauley, Miss Carrick, over on Bigger Lane. She is quite fat, is Lady Pauley, fair to makes the horses groan when two foot-men shove her up into the coach, Quincy says. It’s a pity.”
“Is Quincy a strong fellow?”
“Nearly as strong as Remie, my nephew.”
“Thank you, Willicombe. I must think about this.” She left Willicombe looking up after her. The young lady had lost, right and proper, proving what she’d said—someone always had to lose. It was the way of the world. He wondered what would happen to her n
ow. He wondered why she was interested in Quincy.
At dinner that evening, Douglas eyed a silent Hallie a moment, then said, “Let me tell you more about Mr. Chartley. As we suspected, there is a Miss Chartley. We met her when we visited Mr. Chartley at Twenty-five Park Lane, a lovely corner mansion that Lady Bellingham’s heirs rented to him for the season.
“Miss Chartley has just turned eighteen. She is, ah, not terribly toothsome, rather she’s on the plump side and her teeth are a bit long and forward, and her laugh, well, it made my nerves jump.”
Jason looked at Hallie, whose head had been bent over her plate until his father had begun to speak. He saw her jaw drop. He burst into laughter. To her surprise, Hallie joined him, the first sounds out of either of them since the family had sat down to an excellent dinner of braised beef and onion-dunked potatoes, two of Cook’s specialties.
The earl nodded at them, pleased. “Now, the truth of the matter is that Miss Chartley is quite lovely. She has been raised well, has lovely manners, and will do well now that I will allow her into society.”
Alex said to her sons, “Your father hasn’t had a chance to be charmingly ruthless for a good while now. Everyone is in awe of him; some actually quake in their boots, and it has become too easy for him to get his own way outside the portals of Northcliffe. Inside those portals, however, it is a vastly different matter.”
Douglas raised his glass of Bordeaux and toasted her across the long expanse of table. “Behold what happens to a man when he’s been married close on to forever.”
“You look quite splendid, sir,” Corrie said. “It occurs to me that perhaps I should take lessons from my mama-in-law. James gets his own way far too often for my tastes. If it continues, he will be a domestic tyrant within another year, maybe two.”
“I will give you lessons, Corrie,” Alex said. “It is perhaps more needful since James is so very beautiful. Given how their aunt Melissande is still so glorious, I fear that James and Jason will continue to season well, and that could be a female’s downfall. Yes, lessons you must have, dearest.”
Hallie said, “When my stepmother is angry at my father, her face turns red, she calls him wonderfully inventive names, and tells him he can sleep in the stables. I remember one morning I walked into the stables to see them asleep together in a stall. Hmm. Perhaps, my lady, I can pass the lessons along to Genny.”
But she was leaving in the morning, Jason thought.
The following morning at precisely ten o’clock, Mr. Chartley rose to face a lovely young lady who stood in the doorway of the drawing room. “My butler tells me you are the daughter of Baron Sherard and the niece of the earl of Ravensworth.”
“Yes, Mr. Chartley, I am. I am here to buy Lyon’s Gate from you.”
“This is quite remarkable, Miss Carrick. Do come in, won’t you? Some tea perhaps?”
“No, sir, but it is kind of you to offer. I am offering you ten percent more than Jason Sherbrooke is offering you. Plainly, I am offering you more than you paid Thomas Hoverton for Lyon’s Gate. Selling to me, you will make a profit.”