Page 24 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

The groom nodded, gleeful as he jumped onto the seat of the phaeton and gave the ribbons a snap.

His lips pressed together, Simon muffled a laugh, imagining the lad taking off with his prized carriage for a ride in the park.

Which sounded like a marvelous idea once he’d finished his business with the marquess. Perhaps he could even find some young buck who wished to race. Even better if a wager was involved.

The door creaked open again, this time wider, as the butler motioned him inside.

All the brightness and warmth outside disappeared behind him as Simon stepped through the door into the dreary entrance hall. Shadowy and foreboding, dark colors dominated the wall coverings, draperies, and tapestries. Expensive, Simon had no doubt, they exuded adon’t touchundercurrent of negative ambiance, making Simon feel like a small boy told to behave by Nanny.

As the butler led Simon up the staircase, he resisted the urgeto bolt for the door and call back the groom. Among the portraits of sour looking patriarchs lining the walls, a flower bloomed. A woman with dark, serious eyes seemed to plead with him.Help meshe called out. Charlotte’s mother? The similarity was striking, but she lacked the hard shell enveloping her daughter.

The woman in the portrait appeared vulnerable, and she called him to task. He needed to do this for Charlotte.

The Marquess of Edgerton sat behind a tall desk, his fingers steepled in front of him and a sneer on his smug face. “Sit,” he commanded, as if Simon were a dog. The vacant chair appeared low to the ground until Simon realized elongated legs elevated the desk itself.

He tried to peer over to the marquess’s chair, wondering if it had been perched on a platform. It reminded him of a king’s throne.

Edgerton craned his neck around toward the butler. “Clayton, remain here. I don’t trust this man.” The butler closed the door and stood ramrod straight against the wall.

Simon took the seat, then pulled out the contract and dispensed with formalities. “For your information. We don’t need your signature, permission, or even your approval. But I wanted to do you the courtesy of showing you I plan to do what is right for Charlotte.”

“Lady Charlotte.” Edgerton snapped the words. “Don’t forget that. She will remain so even after her unfortunate union with you.” Edgerton picked up the paper with a thumb and forefinger as if it contained some vile disease, then he picked up his lorgnette and read.

“Hmph,” he muttered once. Then, for the briefest moment, his eyes widened, and he gazed up at Simon. “Not Theodore Beckham’s son?”

Ah, he must have reached the part about my own inheritance.

Simon splayed his hands in front of him. “The one and only.So, you see, I have no need for Charlotte’s dowry,” he said, leaving off her honorific simply to vex the man. “As you can see, she will be well-provided for. Even more so if she bears a son to inherit after me.”

Edgerton leaned forward. “You can’t provide the connections marriage to a peer can.”

Simon tamped down the desire to gloat. “Ah, but you forget my connection to the Duke of Burwood. He includes me in everything. Charlotte will continue to be among society.”

Edgerton slammed his hand on the desk. “LadyCharlotte. And that upstart duke has offended a good portion of thetonwith his duplicity.” The man sneered again. “Which you took part in.”

Odd. Those words were extremely close to what Lady Miranda read fromThe Muckraker.“Will you sign, sir?”

“MyLord. One would think Theodore Beckham would have taught his son some manners and respect for his superiors. As to the signature . . .” Edgerton picked up the contract and ripped it in half.

“Then our business is concluded.” Simon rose, eager to remove himself from the depressing house and ill-tempered marquess. No wonder Charlotte had bolted. “One thing, Edgerton. If you wouldkindlysendLadyCharlotte’s clothing to Pendrake House, it would be most appreciated. She hasn’t needed any for the moment.” He let that sink in, and Edgerton’s face reddened. “But I suppose I’ll have to get her out of bed and take her outside for the wedding.”

“Escort him out, Clayton. Make sure he doesn’t lift anything.”

Head held high, Simon hurried from the room, down the stairs, and out into the sunlight. He flipped the groom a shilling. “Retrieve my carriage as fast as you can, lad.”

More than anything, Simon needed to cleanse his mind of the unpleasantness, and he sorely needed to laugh.

A brisk ride in his phaeton would do the trick. He checked hispocket watch.Damn.Somehow, appealing as it was, the appointment with the vicar awaited, and he needed to fetch Charlotte.

His spirits lifted. No one said he couldn’t have both a brisk ride and go to the church.

Charlotte would love it!

CHAPTER 8

“No! He didn’t?!” Miranda dropped the teacup on the saucer with aclink.

“Oh, he did. Vomited all over Roland’s favorite waistcoat with the diamond buttons.” Charlotte had been careful not to reveal the nature of Mr. Beckham’s illness when she recounted the events that led to her current predicament.

---