Mr. Layton laughed quietly. “You are your mother’s son, always intrigued by equations in need of a solution.”
“And my father was never more excited than when he had some kind of adventure to undertake, so I hope that is part of this equation.”
Mr. Layton nodded in confirmation. “I’ve been here for a couple of days now, attempting to help Scott sort out the mess his uncle made.”
“There was a lot of debate in the neighborhood about whether he was in a mental decline in his last years or had simply become an increasingly horrible person,” Charlie said. “Perhaps it was a bit of both. Personally, I think he resented that Scott would inherit the estate rather than a child of his own and, whether knowingly or not, sabotaged that inheritance to some degree.”
“Based on what I’ve seen,” Mr. Layton said, “at least some of the undermining of the estate was done intentionally by the late Mr. Sarvol. Intentionally and thoroughly.”
“Though he insisted he was exaggerating when he said it, Scott hinted that he worries he might be bound for debtors’ prison,” Gillian said, praying that fate wasn’t hovering on the horizon.
“I think he’ll manage to avoid it, but only just.”
“Good heavens,” Artemis whispered.
Gillian’s heart dropped to her toes.
“And once we’re certain he’s not bound for a cold prison cell, we’ll have to give some thought to salvaging his standing in Society. His footing is more than a bit shaky.”
His standing in Society. Gillian hadn’t given a tremendous amount of thought to that. Being American, penniless, and the overseer of a failing estate all undermined his hopes for acceptance in theton, something that was important for his future, for his sister, for any children he might one day have.
Gillian hadn’t social standing enough to bolster his should his feelings prove the same as hers. If the truth of her father’s situation were known, she would have no standing whatsoever.
“I should warn all of you,” Mr. Layton continued, “Scott has been gone since before your message arrived this morning. He’s in the nearest village ascertaining the price of a few things.”The gentleman’s eyes danced with excitement. “I look forward to seeing his face when he returns.”
Mr. Layton might look forward to it, but Gillian was nervous.
His attention shifted to her. “How long have you known Scott?”
It was an innocuous enough question, but he looked very much as if he were asking for a specific reason.
“Only a few weeks.” So much had happened in that time. She felt like she knew Scott better after mere weeks than she did most of the gentlemen she’d interacted with during her Seasons. And she liked him far better than any she had crossed paths with during her first.
“So, a few weeks, then.” Mr. Layton repeated her declaration with the slow nod of his head. “And he has discussed his situation with you?”
“A little.”
“I thought he might have.”
Artemis, who was standing nearer the windows than anyone else, said, “A pony cart has just arrived. Scott is the one driving it.”
“How do we want to undertake this?” Charlie looked excited. “Do we jump out and surprise him? Does Mr. Layton greet him without warning him that he has visitors?”
“I think Gillian should welcome him home,” Artemis said. There was too much mischief in her tone and expression for Gillian’s peace of mind.
“That sounds like a terrible idea,” she insisted.
“You will have to face him eventually.” Artemis spoke firmly. “I assumed you would rather do so while you didn’t have an audience.”
There was some wisdom in that.
“Do the three of you promise not to watch?” she asked.
Charlie’s “no” and Mr. Layton’s “yes” occurred in perfect synchronicity. Artemis followed up with, “I’ll keep them in line. You go face your demons.”
“Scott is hardly a demon,” Gillian insisted forcefully. “He is quite the opposite, really.”
Mr. Layton smiled ever more broadly, the same knowing smile that had been growing on his face throughout this conversation. Something in it was inviting, reassuring.