“My lead in experimentation?” he growled. “I was not the overly entitled heir to the kingdom that you were. If I recall correctly, it was you who was always puking up your guts in the morning.”
“That’s just because my legitimately born, blue-blooded body did not have as tough a constitution as yours did,” the viscount excused with a sly dig at his brother.
Fletcher’s eyes grew round with shock at this volley, and he was surprised when Malcolm threw back his head and laughed loudly. Then he was further taken aback when both men turned and looked at him piercingly. He had not noticed before how closely they resembled each other until that moment when it felt like twin images gazing at him so seriously. Fletcher cleared his throat and laughed nervously. Not enjoying feeling like a sitting duck, he decided to take the bull by the horns.
“Well, so I came by, as you had requested, to discuss my debts. When I checked my pockets this morning, I was surprised to find how many IOU’s I have owing to you. The irony is that I have no recollection of playing with you last night. I know I imbibed too much, but I do remember who I gamed with.”
The viscount had the grace to look uncomfortable momentarily, but then a look of serious sternness came over his face.
“We do not discuss business at the dining table. Shall we adjourn to my library?” Without waiting for a reply, Lord Ackerley and Mr. Mansfield stood simultaneously, and the viscount led the way from the room.
Feeling like a chastened child, Fletcher stood and followed them silently. His feelings were very torn. He really enjoyed these men and their bantering sense of humour. But while he felt ashamed to be in debt, he also felt a sense of betrayal that somehow the viscount had tricked him into this position. He resolved to remain stoic until he heard what Lord Ackerley had to say.
A surprising sense of familiarity washed over Fletcher as they entered his lordship’s library. It was strangely similar to the earl’s library, which was a room Fletcher had always enjoyed. It settled his nerves a little as he sank comfortably into one of the wing-backed chairs placed strategically before the viscount’s desk. Malcolm settled into the other one, shifting it slightly so that he could better observe both other occupants of the room. Fletcher had an uneasy feeling that this was diverting entertainment for the other man, and he felt a moment of resentment. That was quickly forgotten as the viscount began the interview.
Luc and Malcolm were each their mother’s only children, and neither of them had offspring of their own, so Luc had never experienced this sensation. He figured it must be how an uncle feels when dealing with a recalcitrant niece or nephew. It was an odd mixture of pride and disgust, and he found it strangely unsettling.
“So, Hanford, I take it you have come to settle your debts. You are mostly correct. We did not play together for long. I trounced you quite soundly in our first game, so you went off to play chess with my brother. He refuses to accept bets from children, so there were no stakes to your game.”
These words deeply offended Fletcher who, at nineteen, almost twenty, had quite decided he was a mature adult. He began to sputter but caught himself as he remembered his resolve for stoicism and subsided.
Impressed, the viscount continued. “After your defection from the card table, I continued to play with your former opponents. By the end of our game, the only thing of value remaining to them were your vowels which I accepted at their value, so when they lost those as well, then you became in debt to me rather than them.”
Fletcher recognized that this was possible and did not doubt that the viscount was telling him the truth. He was again swept with a wave of relief that that was how the evening had transpired. It would be much better to deal with Lord Ackerley than those other men for whom he had far less respect and much more fear. The outcome remained more or less the same, however. He was still heavily in debt and was honour bound to pay up. Fletcher voiced some of his thoughts.
“I regret how the evening progressed, I must say, my lord. I do enjoy games of all sorts but have never engaged in play that ran so deep. I find that I am grateful that it is to you I am in debt rather than what I remember of the others I played with last night. But it does not change the fact that I owe you a rather large sum.”
Fletch paused for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing as bravely as possible. “Without applying to my father or my aunt, I am not in a position to pay off the full balance immediately. I just received my quarterly. I had been planning to set up my own residence in a rented space, but my relatives would probably be just as happy if I stay with them a bit longer, so I could give you all that. I could probably borrow the money on the expectation of my next allowance payment, or you could charge me interest. If it’s all the same to you, I would very much rather leave the earl and my aunt out of this arrangement.”
“I absolutely agree. It never even crossed my mind that Lady Julianna was an option in covering your debts.” Lord Ackerley had a look of disgust on his face at the thought.
Without thinking before he spoke, Fletcher blurted out, “Oh, yes, she is about to come into most of her portion as her twenty-fifth birthday is approaching despite being unmarried. I believe some is tied up in investments, but full control will be turned over to her on her birthday. I would hate to admit to her what a mess I got myself into, but it would be better than facing my father.”
Without revealing his thoughts, the viscount regarded him steadily. “Why?” he asked without a trace of emotion.
Unsure which statement he was questioning, Fletcher again launched into speech. “They would both be so disappointed in me. Aunty Jules would probably cry, but she would come up with a solution to help me, maybe she would even insist on paying you herself. She would no doubt direct her anger at you rather than me. I can’t see that as a solution. I deserve this mess since it was me who did it. I cannot let a woman pay my debts. My father, on the other hand, would be harsh in his assessment of my behaviour and would most likely send me back to the country to think about my sins and the shame I have brought on him. He would figure out a way of making this be a problem for his politics.”
Luc could see what Fletcher was saying and agreed with him. He would rather not take the youngster’s money, but the boy needed to learn to take responsibility for his actions. Maybe this would teach him not to allow himself into such a situation again. But he still couldn’t fleece him. He proposed a solution.
“I can see the circumstances you face, and I understand your reluctance to apply to either of your relatives. No doubt your grandparents would be just as bad or worse and would probably feel obligated to tell your aunt and father anyway. I would hate to think I was the cause of you getting caught up with the money lenders, and no doubt that would end up getting back to your father as well.”
Ackerley paused for a moment allowing that thought to sink in before he continued. “Here is what I propose. It would not do for you to be completely without funds for the entire quarter. Your aunt is sure to notice since I have a feeling she is ever watchful when it comes to you and your sister. Let us divide your debt in half. You can pay the first half now from the funds you have on hand. The remainder to be paid when your next allowance comes through. Let us say the interest is that you must treat my brother and me to a bottle of the best claret White’s has to offer when you are completely debt free.”
Gratified by the viscount’s reasonable and generous offer, Fletcher grinned, putting out his hand to shake on it. Luc grasped his hand in a firm grip. Before he let go, he eyed the young baron sternly.
“Since I pretty much own you for the next two quarters, I do not want to catch wind of you getting up to such tricks ever again.”
Fletcher tripped over his own words in his haste to reassure the viscount. “I swear to you, I have developed a whole-hearted disgust of such places and such games. Tales of my adventures will not reach your ears, I promise you.”
Releasing him but continuing to eye him seriously, Luc persisted. “But promise me, if you do
get into trouble of any sort, or even just need a manly ear to listen, you will come to me. Do not bother your aunt with such worries. Together we will think of a solution.”
Surprised by this demanded promise, but happy to grant it, Fletcher answered, “I sincerely plan to keep myself far from trouble, but I promise to apply to you for aid should I need it.”
There was a moment of silence while the three gentlemen regarded each other solemnly, but then Fletcher grinned boyishly and offered a charming face of chagrin. “Thank you, my lord. You have been prodigiously understanding and accommodating. I wonder if you are almost as afraid of my aunt finding out as I am?”
The two brothers laughed uproarishly at this rejoinder. “The boy has a point, brother dear,” mocked Malcolm, always ready to tease the viscount.
“Never mind about my concerns where it comes to the fair Lady Julianna. Let us just keep this amongst us, and none of us need concern ourselves with her finding out.”
Wishing fervently to change the subject and still enjoying the young man’s company, Luc proposed an excursion. “Has your head fully recovered yet?” he asked solicitously. “I have a mind to spend some time with Gentleman Jack this morning. Would you care to join us?”
Flushing to his roots at the prospect of such a treat, Fletcher agreed promptly. “My head will survive. I would love to join you, thank you, my lord.”
“If we’re going to be sparring we might as well drop the formalities. You must call me Luc or Ackerley or Beaumont, whichever you wish. I answer to all three, if I may call you Fletcher.”
Again thrilled by this invitation, Fletcher struggled for nonchalance. “That would be fine.” But he could not quite yet bring himself to use the less formal address with his lordship.
Seeing there was no more fun to be had in observing the exchange, Malcolm stood, ending the serious interview.
“Am I included in the invitation to spar? If so, I believe I shall require a change of attire. If I leave now, could you come past my place on your way to Bond Street?”
“That sounds like a plan, Mac. Should we give you a head start of thirty minutes? Fletcher and I should be able to keep ourselves occupied in the meantime. He did not have a big enough meal to have any energy, so maybe we shall get the kitchen to send him up a nuncheon while we wait for you.”
With the plan thus set, Malcolm strode from the room promising to be ready when they arrived for him.
Turning back to his guest, Luc continued the conversation while he pulled the bell for a footman. “I don’t know why he refuses to accept my offer of lodgings. It would be so much easier if he lived here or at least kept some of things here,” he complained mildly.
“I believe men need their independence,” Fletcher explained trying to sound knowledgeable. “At least, that’s how I feel.”
Luc felt a pang of conscience since he was in part responsible for the young man not being able to declare his own independence. He was saved from answering by the footman’s arrival.
“Thank you, John. Could you please see if Cook has kept anything warm from breakfast? Lord Montgomery was unable to partake of much first thing, but he could use some fortification now.”
“Very well, milord, I will see to it immediately.” The servant bowed himself from the room.
“I am shockingly hungry now. Your brother was right. When I first arrived food was the furthest thing from my mind, but now I feel as though I could eat a whole side of bacon.”
Luc laughed before warning, “Well, I pray you do not indulge that desire too literally. Keep in mind we shall soon be exerting ourselves. I can assure you Mr. Jackson does not appreciate it if anyone casts up their accounts on his gleaming hardwood.”
∞∞∞
After a rousing morning of boxing at Gentleman Jackson’s, the two brothers escorted their new young friend home. As they approached his house, Fletcher began to wonder what the socially acceptable protocol was. Should he invite them in and offer them lunch? He was wracking his brain trying to decide when the viscount solved the dilemma for him.
“Well, Fletcher, you showed yourself quite to advantage today. We shall have to go a few rounds again soon.”
Fletcher bobbed his head in shy acceptance of the compliment.
“Malcolm and I have things we need to attend to. Try to keep yourself out of trouble, and we shall see you again soon.”
“Thank you, my lord, Mr. Mansfield. I look forward to a future match.”
Relieved of his worry as to the social niceties, feeling without a care in the world, Fletcher bounded up the stairs and into the house.
Malcolm turned to his brother and regarded him appraisingly. “So now you are raising the child?” he demanded quizzically.
“He is no longer a child, and I am not raising him,” defended the viscount with heat.
“In all the years I’ve known you, I have never known you to offer a loan to a gaming debt.”
“You’ve also never known me to game with children.”
“I thought you said he’s not a child,” Malcolm said mockingly.
Laughing with exasperation, Luc concluded the matter. “Let it drop, Malcolm. I have my reasons and I do not have to explain them to you.”
Mac gazed at his brother appraisingly. “Do you even know what your reasons are?”
“No,” Luc answered baldly. “Staring at me like that isn’t going to help you know the answers either. Let us leave it for now. I am starving. Let me buy you lunch at White’s, and you can tell me what your plans are for the coming week.”
∞∞∞
As Julianna descended the stairs, she was surprised to see Fletcher coming in the house greeting the footman with enthusiasm.
“Hello, Fletcher. It’s nice to see you. Are you just returning home from last night?” Julianna hadn’t seen him that morning at breakfast and now began to fret about his whereabouts.
Much relieved of all the cares he had been worrying about earlier that day, Fletcher did not allow his aunt’s concern to fray his good mood.
“No, silly, I came home last night and slept in my own bed. I just had something I had to take care of this morning and am simply returning home again.” Changing the subject in an effort to distract his aunt and solve his most pressing problem, he elaborated. “I am actually ravenously hungry, have you had your luncheon yet?”
Relieved by this evidence of his good health and such a normal request, Julianna finished descending the stairs as she answered. “I am not famished myself, but I have not yet eaten. Let us go together to see what the kitchen might have for us.”
Arm in arm the two descended upon the kitchens. After a light repast on her part and an enthusiastic stuffing on his, Fletcher went off to pursue his own affairs while Julianna went in search of Odelia.
Chapter Twenty One
Julianna was already in the ballroom checking to ensure all the last minute details had been attended to. She scolded herself for this needless fluster since their staff was very well skilled to handle all the arrangements. But it gave her something to do to calm her fidgets. She was convinced she was more nervous than her niece.
Thinking of Odelia must have conjured her, Julianna thought with a whimsical smile as she watched her very excited niece bounce into the ballroom. Their modiste had done a remarkable job with Odelia’s dress. The white spider gauze was the exact hue to best accentuate her skin tone and the silver embroidery around the hems, sleeves and bodice were delicate enough to be pleasing to the eye but caught the light of the myriad candles. The pearls at her neck, ears, and above her gloves were perfect for the debutante in her first Season and matched the ones that had been threaded through her elaborate hairstyle. Julianna was relieved her niece had opted not to add feathers to her headdress despite their popularity amongst the ton. She was getting mightily sick of seeing them everywhere she turned.
“Oh, Aunty Jewel, everything looks perfectly marvellous,” Odelia enthused in reverent tones before squealing in her excitement. “I
can barely believe this evening has finally arrived! Why ever did we wait so long to have my ball?”
“Well, my darling, you did say you wanted your debut to be a crush, did you not?”
“But of course!” Dee declared with a bounce.
“Then we needed to wait until we could be sure that everyone had gathered in Town. And, of course, we could not compete with the annual balls held at the large houses like the Roxboroughs and the Yorks.”
“You always think of everything, don’t you?”
“I do try, my dear, but I fear I rarely succeed. But this has been a communal effort, and I am certain it shall be a success. Now that you have gotten a bit of Town bronze I am sure you will be all the more confident at your own ball anyway, wouldn’t you agree? If we had planned your ball for the first week we were in Town, you might not have had nearly as much fun since you would not know as many people either.”
“That is quite true, Aunty.” Odelia acknowledged her aunt’s reasoning before changing the subject. “What are the chances of the earl and baron being here to receive our guests before they start arriving?”
Julianna could not resist grinning at her niece’s way of expressing herself. “I am quite certain your father and brother will be joining us momentarily, have no fear. And no doubt the first to arrive will be family members, so it would not really matter all that much anyway.” The sound of footsteps sounded nearby. “Ah, here they are now.”
As Hart and Fletch stepped into the room, Julianna admired the efforts they had gone to in their toilette. “My lords, you have outdone yourselves this evening. You look extraordinarily handsome tonight.”
Fletch coloured slightly at his aunt’s comments, while Hart offered her a wry bow. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, little sister,” the earl complimented. “I do believe we shall all shine brightly tonight.” Turning toward his daughter, Hart continued, “You, my darling, look ravishing. I shall have to remain near you tonight to fend off the suitors who will be vying for your attentions.”
Sweet Surrender (Ladies of Mayfair Book 3) Page 18