Katherine’s heart softened at the woman’s words. “Miss Howell, I feel the same as you, wondering how this could happen. Your brother didn’t come with you today?”
“St. John? He couldn’t be bothered. He only cares about what horse is favored to win the next race,” she scoffed softly. “If horses and gambling aren’t involved, St. John isn’t interested. He’s in Austria as we speak, looking to add to his stables.” She shook her head as a tear slipped down her cheek, which she quickly brushed away. “I shouldn’t have spoken so freely. Please, I beg of you not to say a word to anyone.”
“I won’t say anything,” Katherine answered.
“Nor I. We’ll all be ruined if this gets out,” Constance agreed. “My dowry is not accessible either.” She leaned back in her chair, rubbed her belly, and stretched as if her back hurt. “I overheard one of the clerks say the money isn’t available. Whatever that means. I only hope it means it’ll be here soon.”
Miss Howell nodded.
“Do you have anywhere to stay?” Katherine asked.
Both women shook their heads.
“I thought perhaps the duke would offer lodging in his home.” Constance shifted in her chair once again.
“I’d move us into my brother’s townhome, but he didn’t open it this season.” Miss Howell frowned. “Constance, you look uncomfortable.”
She nodded. “I normally rest in the afternoon. But first, we must find somewhere to stay this evening. I can’t travel back to Portsmouth today, and neither can you return north.”
“The truth is we can’t return home until we discover what’s happened to our money,” Miss Howell said.
Willa cleared her throat and shot a glance Katherine’s way.
“Right,” Katherine agreed at her companion’s gentle nudging. “First things first. You’re welcome to stay at my house.” As the women started to protest, she held up her hand. “I insist. It’s easier for all of us. Plus, we can compare notes on how Meri hoodwinked us all.”
They all nodded in agreement.
Willa smiled at Katherine, then went to help Constance. As the two walked out of the office, Miss Howell sidled next to Katherine.
“My full name is Blythe Elizabeth Howell. My brother calls me Bliss, but my friends call me Beth,” she said gently. “I’d be honored if you’d call me Beth.”
Kat smiled. “Of course, with one caveat. Call me Kat. Did you bring a lady’s maid? She’s welcome too.”
Beth smiled, but sadness reflected deeply in her ocean-blue eyes. “No. I’m alone.” She swallowed, but the unease was written on her face. “I’ve never been in this situation before.”
“I doubt if any of us have ever been in this situation before.” Katherine linked her arm through Beth’s. “Let’s go home. I’ll make a pot of tea, and we’ll see if we can convince Willa to bake some lovely iced biscuits for us.”
Chapter Three
After maneuvering through the London traffic, the carriage finally pulled up to the solicitor’s office, and Christian waited for his new footman, John Iverson, to open the door. Iverson had served under him in an elite squad of the Ninety-Fifth Regiment stationed in France and had no home to return to, so Christian had offered him a position.
When Iverson saluted as he stepped down from the carriage, Christian smiled. “There’s no need for that.”
“I forget, Captain … I mean, Your Grace.” The young man’s cheeks flushed slightly.
“We’re all getting used to a new routine.” He placed his tall beaver hat on his head. “I’m not certain how long I’ll be.” Without waiting for an answer, Christian crossed the street, mindful of the traffic.
As Christian was about to enter Mr. Hanes’s office, a grubby hand holding a cup appeared out of nowhere.
“Eh, sir?” A beggar rattled the cup with a coin inside under Christian’s nose. “Have an extra coin for a hungry man?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Christian glimpsed Iverson coming toward him, ready to intervene.
“It’s all right.” He turned his attention to the grubby young man and reached into his waistcoat pocket. “Let me see what I have.”
“Captain? Is it you?” the beggar asked softly.
The man before him was dressed in rags and smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in a month. Yet something was familiar about him as Christian stared into his blue eyes. “Reed?” he asked in astonishment. “Phillip Reed?”
“In the flesh, sir,” The beggar’s gleeful smile slowly melted. Reed bent his head and stared at his cup. “If I’d known it was you, I’d not have made a nuisance of myself.”
“You are not a nuisance.” Christian pulled a guinea from his pocket and pressed it into the man’s hand. The coin was a paltry offering in comparison to Reed’s accomplishments as a scout exploring the countryside and watching the enemies’ movements during the war.
“Your Grace,” a voice trilled from a few feet away.
Christian glanced at the woman waving a yellow silk handkerchief. Her lady’s maid followed. Christian silently sighed as Lady Everton approached. Desperate to have Christian attend a ball she was hosting next week, Lady Everton had sent two invitations to his house since he’d arrived. Christian had politely sent his regrets, but the woman wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He bowed slightly. “Good afternoon, my lady.”
Lady Everton sailed to his side then curtseyed. “Your Grace, how lucky that I find myself in your delightful company.” She glanced toward Reed and did a double take. Her repulsion was evident with her upturned lip. With a backward step, she swept her hand in his direction. “Shoo you,” she admonished.
“Lady Everton, this is Mr. Phillip Reed,” Christian said curtly. “He served under my command and deserves your utmost respect.”
Her mouth opened, and she blinked rapidly in confusion. “I didn’t realize. I thought he was a street beggar.”
“An apology will suffice,” Christian drawled.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace.”
“Not me. Him.” Christian wanted to roll his eyes. Instead, he nodded in Reed’s direction. “And a ‘thank you for your service’ might be appropriate.”
She swallowed and glanced between the two men. “Of course. How rude of me. I apologize and thank you.” She stepped closer to Christian and lowered her voice. “About my ball next week, I wonder if you’d reconsider?”
“I’m afraid not.” Christian kept his face expressionless. “I’m already engaged.” He had no idea how he’d occupy his time that night. But as sure as the sun rises in the east, he wouldn’t attend any event at her house in the foreseeable future. “Now, if you’ll excuse us?”
“Of course,” she said. “Until the next time, Your Grace.” She ignored Reed and dropped another curtsey and held out her gloved hand.
Christian examined it for a moment then reluctantly took it. She stood, and before Christian could release her, she stuffed her silk handkerchief in his hand.
“A token of appreciation, Your Grace.” She smiled demurely and proceeded on her way.
Reed looked at her retreating figure, then gazed at Christian. “Does that happen often?”
“More than you can imagine.” He shook his head at the interruption. “Let’s discuss more important matters. Did you find employment?”
“No, sir. The cabinet maker I worked for hired a replacement after I left. He doesn’t have any extra work. I’ve even visited every other cabinet shop around.” Reed studied the ground and shuffled one foot. “No one is hiring.”
Christian’s stomach twisted at the news. Reed was a hard worker. When he hadn’t been roaming the French countryside, he’d generously offered to repair the men’s boots at camp in his spare time.
Unfortunately, this is what most of the brave soldiers came home to.
Nothing.
“Where are you staying?”
“Well … here and there.” Reed let out a ragged breath.
Which meant he was sleeping on the streets.
Christian ground his teeth together. His men sacrificed their lives and livelihoods to protect the country with no repayment or appreciation. “You can work for me. Lodging included.”
“Captain, are you sure?” Reed wiped the grime from his face across his sleeve.
The hope in his voice doused Christian’s earlier anger at the man’s circumstances. “It’d be my pleasure. I could use a good man like you.”
“This is all I have to wear,” the man said sheepishly. “Nowhere near fancy enough for your home.”
“Remember Morgan, my batman?”
“Yes, sir. Fine man.”
“He’s my valet now. He’ll find you something that you’ll be comfortable in.” He pointed to his coach. “Ask for Iverson and tell him I sent you. I have an errand here, then we’ll be off.”
“Yes, sir.” Reed stood at attention and saluted, then sprinted off to the carriage.
The tightness in Christian’s chest loosened somewhat. He still had to face Meri’s wives. If only finding a solution for them was as easy as it had been for Reed. Without delay, he went to the solicitor’s door and entered.
The bell above the door chimed his arrival. One of Mr. Hanes’s clerks peeked around a door, then quickly walked toward Christian.
“Your Grace.” The young man stopped and bowed. “Did you forget something?”
His mind. Christian shook his head. “Is Mr. Hanes available?” He pulled off his gloves then tucked his hat under his arm.
“I’m afraid not, sir. He left for an appointment.” With a pencil stuck behind one ear, the young man stood with his hands clasped in front of him.
Christian lowered his voice. “Is my half brother’s wife here?”
“No, sir. And neither are the other wives.”
“Do you know where they went?”
The clerk shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
Meri’s antics were becoming even more complicated. “Will you have Hanes call on me when he returns? I need to find those ladies.”
“Of course, Your Grace. You should know all the wives departed together. That might make it easier to find them.”
“As in, they left at the same time?” Christian asked.
“As in, they all left in the same carriage at the same time,” the clerk answered.
Christian held himself still, unwilling to express his shock at the news. Finally, he took his leave with a nod.
Once he found where they’d gone, he’d send a note asking to call upon them. As he crossed the street to his carriage, a cold knot of dread blossomed within his chest.
Why did it suddenly feel as if he were about to face a firing squad?
* * *
Christian’s valet, Jacob Morgan, pulled two silk cravats from the wardrobe. Though two years younger than Christian, the twenty-eight-year-old Morgan possessed the demeanor of a man almost twice his age. He’d been by Christian’s side every single day while Christian had served as captain in one of the regiment’s companies. After three years, Christian had decided the army could do without him, but he’d also decided he couldn’t do without Morgan and brought him home as his valet. Lucky for Christian, Morgan had readily agreed to accept the post.
With care, Morgan adjusted the patch over his left eye. With his tanned features and long blond hair, Morgan resembled a pirate until one saw the exquisite cut of his morning coat. There wasn’t a brigand alive who could imitate Morgan’s impeccable tastes and elegant style. Thankfully, he relished the opportunity to make Christian appear the part of the perfect duke.
“Is your eye bothering you?” Christian finished buttoning his black brocade waistcoat.
“No, Captain.” A painful grin creased his lips. “Maybe. Truthfully, it’s an annoyance.”
“It’s only been a month,” Christian said. “Perhaps you should have Dr. Artemis take a look and see how the healing’s coming.”
“Not that sawbones.” Morgan shook his head. “No disrespect, sir, but he always wants to cut something off when he sees me.”
“Shall we find someone else to help you?” Christian turned from the mirror and studied his valet.
“No, sir. I’ll manage.” He held two cravats in his hands, debating which one for Christian to wear. He chose the one without lace.
Knowing Morgan, he would try and hide the pain so as not to be a bother. “I’m going to send a few notes around to some colleagues whom I respect. Maybe they can recommend someone for you.” Christian took the neckcloth. With the other hand, he picked up two letters he’d written. “Will you see these posted?”
Morgan glanced at the missives in his hand. “I wonder how Lord Sykeston and Lord Grayson are faring?”
Christian scowled. “Grayson is well. He’s coming to town soon. Sykeston hasn’t answered my last letter so I thought I’d reach out again.”
“Wise thinking, Captain,” Morgan agreed. “Good to try and reestablish your friendship with Lord Sykeston. Speaking of men who’ve returned home, I’ve got Reed settled in the kitchens. He’s helping the cook rearrange the pantry.”
“Thank you.” Christian tied the cravat into a simple mathematical knot.
“Captain, if I may speak freely?”
“Of course,” Christian answered.
“It’s kindhearted to help these men.” The valet gently smiled. “But, respectfully, you can’t hire them all. The next man you hire will have to sleep on a cot in the kitchen. We’re out of room.”
Christian smoothed his waistcoat to keep from fisting his hands. Every time he thought of one of his men begging for food or shelter, he wanted to punch something. He glanced in Morgan’s direction, and the empathy in the man’s eyes spoke volumes. He felt the same as Christian, but he made a good point.
If Christian didn’t come up with another idea for employment soon, there might be a revolt in his house. The cook was already grumbling that there were too many “cooks” in the kitchen. His housekeeper had been quite direct that the extra servants meant more work for her housekeeping staff.
Before Christian could reply, a knock sounded on the sitting room door adjacent to Christian’s dressing room. Morgan immediately answered, then returned. “Mr. Hanes has arrived.”
Christian nodded, then entered his private sitting room, where the visitor currently was setting up his portable desk. As the family solicitor made a motion to stand, Christian held up his hand. “There’s no need. Thank you for coming. I wanted to see how today ended.”
Mr. Hanes pushed up his wire-framed glasses, then blinked slowly. Such an action made the man look like an owl regarding his surroundings. “They all wanted to know the specifics of their dowries and marriage settlements. Unbelievable sight,” Mr. Hanes said in wonderment. “They walked hand in hand out the door together like a merry society of widows. Then they entered Lady Meriwether’s carriage and left.”
“They went to her house?” Christian asked.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Christian eased his large body against the sofa facing the solicitor. Morgan brought forward a small tray with brandy and glasses and poured two. He handed one to the solicitor, then the other to Christian. After the day Mr. Hanes must have experienced, it wasn’t at all surprising he finished his glass in one swallow.
He didn’t partake, but Mr. Hanes wiped his lips and gestured for another. Morgan lifted his brows but, without a word, poured the man another.
The image of Katherine’s face after Christian had inadvertently hurt her feelings over the amount of her dowry still haunted him. Nor could he conceive how she had married his scandalous half brother. The woman had an assuredness about her that was in direct contrast to Meri’s flightiness.
Perhaps it was true that opposites attracted.
Christian placed the glass on the side table, then leaning forward, rested his elbows on his knees as he devoted his full attention to Mr. Hanes. “Have you found out any more information?”
The solicitor ran a hand down his face. “Not yet, Y
our Grace. Your brother sent information about each wife to three different clerks at my office. I’ve posted letters to each parish, seeking information about their marriages. The only one I’ll have soon is Lady Meriwether’s since she married in London. With what the other women have claimed, it appears that Miss Constance Lysander and Miss Beth Howell were married to Lord Meriwether after Miss Katherine Greer.”
“What was he thinking?” Christian muttered.
“I don’t know, Your Grace.” The solicitor exhaled deeply. “I’m trying to discover how long he stayed with Lady Meriwether before he traveled to Portsmouth. That’s where he met Constance Lysander. He met Miss Beth Howell at her brother’s Cumberland estate. It’s all very complicated. It may take weeks to uncover the full extent of the scandal.”
Christian leaned back against the black velvet sofa. “Well, I don’t want you to delay. Pay Lady Meriwether’s dowry amount to her immediately. Did Meri leave her anything else?”
The man shook his head and set down his empty glass. Morgan stepped forward to offer another drink, but the solicitor declined. “According to his will, Lord Meriwether left everything to you.”
“To me?” Christian asked incredulously. “We hadn’t spoken or corresponded in over three years.”
“I’m aware of that, Your Grace,” the solicitor said softly.
Christian bristled under the solicitor’s steady gaze.
Finally, Mr. Hanes took off his glasses, then hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Seems Lord Meriwether left Miss Howell’s Cumberland residence a little more than three months ago, then traveled around the countryside before…” He released a sorrowful sigh. “We’re still waiting for the rest of his personal effects to arrive from his lodgings in Perth.”
“I’ll send two of my footmen.” Christian had the perfect footmen in mind. “Both served under me as infantrymen and are excellent at reconnaissance. They’ll get the job done quickly and efficiently.”
A Duke in Time--The Widow Rules Page 3