Page 19 of A Courtesan Countess Worth the Scandal
A week after the events at Fontaine’s, Liam had almost forgotten about the altercation between Lord Westleigh and Miss Black. It had become a distant, hazy memory… the kind that came about after a night of too much brandy and too many revels.
Indeed, he had plenty to occupy his mind, now that he had returned to England’s fair shores. As with any Earl in possession of a large country estate and a London townhouse, his first concern rested upon his fortune. Namely, how to improve it.
“Have I become your accountant, Westwood?” Carlton lolled on a chair in Liam’s study, a tower of papers in front of him. “This was not what I had in mind when I said I would spend the summer here in London with you, so you could get reaccustomed with polite society.”
Liam raised his eyes from his own stack of documents. “It is only for an afternoon, Carlton. If I am to maintain my properties and my fortune, then I must make sage business endeavors. You are more familiar with such things than I am, so you are the ideal person to assist me.”
“I have never so much as looked at my own accounts!” Carlton protested. “I am afraid you shall find yourself a ruined man if you heed any financial advice from me. Why not ask your Uncle? He is the one currently tending to all of your affairs, is he not?”
Liam sighed. “Yes, but I cannot rely upon him indefinitely. It would seem rather like mockery to make him a perpetual steward of my properties, when he does not have an estate of his own.” He straightened up. “No, I must make some wise investments, bolster my fortune, and… relieve him of his duties when that is done, so he may live his life as he pleases.”
“Does this mean you are finally relenting about returning to Keswick Manor?” Denninson chimed in, from his armchair by the fireplace. He also had several documents on his lap, though the room lacked the enthusiasm and vigor that Liam had been hoping for.
Not if I may help it—
“Once I have my affairs in order, and I have released my Uncle from this five-year guardianship over my lands and accounts, I will employ a proper steward to take care of Keswick Manor.” Liam set down his quill. “I do not need to be there in order to maintain it. Perhaps, I shall even see fit to let the house. I am sure there are many young fellows and ladies who would find enjoyment there, while aiding to balance my coffers.”
Denninson nodded slowly. “Whatever you think best, dear Westwood.”
“After traveling the continent, I know I would not be able to find peace in such quietude,” Liam continued, more to convince himself than anyone else. “I feel as though London is where I should have my primary residence and if I should acquire the urge to visit the countryside, there are far smaller manors that I may rent.”
Denninson smiled. “Of course. When did you say your Uncle was arriving in London to meet with you?”
“I do believe he will be at his townhouse next week, though he will undoubtedly send word to me prior to then.” Liam stared down at the documents, but the words seemed to swim before his eyes, all of the business jargon blending together until he could make no sense of anything.
“Is anyone else about to lose their mind from boredom?” Carlton groaned and flailed his arms over the back of the chair. “I recognize that our challenge has been set, but surely there must be some entertainment we can enjoy that does not involve engaging with any divine goddesses who might tempt us to stray?”
Liam eyed his friend. “I thought you had sworn off the taste of liquor, after Fontaine’s?”
“I would die first!” Carlton declared. “I say we take ourselves to a gambling hall and try to do something about our fortunes there. If we remain in this house for one more evening, I may be forced to return to my Mother and Father in Cornwall. There, at least, I shall be under no false pretenses of excitement.”
Denninson frowned. “Gambling? You are aware that you lose money faster than a deluge down a drain, Carlton, whenever we attend those halls.”
“That is half the fun.” Carlton grinned. “When I eventually win, the victory is all the sweeter.”
Liam stretched out his stiff arms. “I would not mind venturing somewhere, though I cannot say I will gamble much. My fortune may still be considered healthy, but that does not mean I can afford to fritter it away any longer. I returned to England to be sensible, not to continue I was doing on the Continent.”
“I promise that I shall watch your spending like a hawk.” Carlton was already up on his feet, eagerly striding to the door.
Liam chuckled. “You are more likely to watch it like a magpie, waiting to swoop in and snatch anything that glitters.”
“That, too. Now, get yourself ship-shape and in Bristol fashion. We have revels to indulge in and I, for one, cannot wait to partake.” Carlton raised his arms in triumph. “If I must deny myself the touch of a lady, I will satisfy myself with the pleasures of the card tables and Whiston’s brandy selection.”
Whiston’s Gambling Hall had been one of their favored haunts, some five years ago, and Liam knew that Carlton had visited it on many occasions during his sporadic returns to England. However, the sound of that name made Liam feel somewhat anxious, like the seed of a nightmare had grown roots in his mind.
After all, that was where he had first heard the news that his wife was a continuously unfaithful wretch who was taking him for a fool. Indeed, it was from there that he had ridden, to find out if the rumors were true… the first tangible crack in what he had thought to be an unbreakable union, that had seen his entire world crumble to dust around him.
Perhaps it is time for me to face past demons… one small step at a time.
That way, maybe, one day he would find the courage to return to Keswick Manor.
Chapter Nine
Surrounded by the stench of tobacco smoke and the masculine drone of chattering gentlemen, where the occasional yelp of success exploded through the din, alongside the groans of woeful losses, Liam found himself surprisingly at ease.
It had not been easy to walk through the doors of Whiston’s, knowing that terrible memories might await him inside. But with his friends at his side, his fears had quickly abated. Moreover, he was doubtful that anyone inside would recognize him. Even if they did, it was not as though any blame could be laid at his door. He had done the right thing by severing ties to his wayward wife, as any husband would.
Though they may behave how they like, and spurn their marriage vows by taking lovers, without a single care for the pain their wives might suffer if they found out.
