Page 68 of Miss Dauntless
Marcus walked back into the room. “Tremont, at your service, sir, family name Glover. I hardly know what to call you, though cheat, liar, and scoundrel come to mind. Sit down, and don’t even think about issuing me a challenge, because I will refuse. I am a peer and a dead shot, while you are”—he wrinkled the lordly beak—“Matilda’s husband. For now.”
Harry sat back down.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Matilda had never once indicated that her husband was a strikingly handsome man. Harry was not quite in the same league with Michael Delancey, but his looks were attractive in a way Delancey’s perfection was not. Harry’s smile had a quality of conspiratorial charm. His air was friendly and unassuming.
Dear old Harry, come to pull off another swindle.
A young, pregnant Matilda would have thought him quite the gallant knight, though she was clearly unimpressed now.
“I am Matilda’s husband,” Harry said as Tremont latched the door, “and I have much to answer for in that regard, but that is between me and Matilda.”
“No, Harry, it is not,” Matilda said, motioning for Tremont to take the place beside her. “You never consider the repercussions of your schemes beyond how much risk or reward is involved for you, but this time you have gone too far.”
“Matilda, I was left for dead on the king’s highway.” Harry’s version of injured dignity could have rivaled the late Mr. Garrick’s. “I was friendless and bleeding without a coin to my name. You know how twitchy I get without a few coppers in my pocket. I mucked stalls to put bread in my mouth, suffered terrible headaches—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Merridew, spare us your histrionics.”
Harry sent a look of noble long-suffering across the table. “I go by Merriman now.”
“You go by whatever name suits your current criminal scheme,” Tremont retorted, “but you neglected to change your handwriting when you changed your name.” Tremont withdrew two documents from his satchel. “This is the cordial invitation you penned, inviting Mrs. Merridew to this meeting.”
Tremont lay a single page of foolscap faceup on the table. “This,” he went on, laying a second, yellowing page next to it, “is supposedly from the Hungry Hound’s innkeeper, informing Mrs. Merridew of your death and asking her to remit a sum certain for the expenses resulting from her bereavement.”
Harry studied both missives and had the sense to keep his lying gob shut for a change.
“Matilda sent you the money,” Tremont said, returning the letters to his briefcase. “The penmanship is the same, despite the documents having been written years apart. You even make the same flourish beneath your signature, no matter which name you choose to use.”
Harry sat back, not a hint of charm in his countenance. “Coincidence, my lord. Not proof, and if Matilda is such a penmanship expert now, why didn’t she recognize my handwriting when I supposedly wrote to her from the Hungry Hound?”
Matilda studied the ceiling. “Because I was too busy wondering how I’d pay for your funeral and Tommie’s next meal? Because it never occurred to me thatmy husbandwould swindle me out of the bed and board he owes me by law until death us do part? Because I do not have a criminal mind?”
“You’re still a prodigious scold, Til.”
“The fine Christian woman,” Tremont said, “who took care of your supposed funerary expenses—Mrs. Brent of Worthy Street—is a madam of considerable renown among Oxford’s randy scholars. There is no Hungry Hound, unless I behold him at this moment, and if you ever were in Ireland, you were driven from those shores because some scheme—some other scheme—went badly awry.”
“My lord eavesdropped on the private conversation between a man and his wife?”
Matilda snorted. “Tremont, at my request, knew better than to allow you any unwitnessed discourse with me, Harry. We set you up, and you waltzed into the snare, spewing predictable lies and offering not a word of apology.”
She rose, bracing her hands on the table and looming over her husband. “You left me alone, barely a coin in the house, with a small child to raise. I don’t care that you stole from me. I married you, and the cost of some mistakes never ends. I care very much that you turned your back on Tommie, when I married you solely for his sake. You broke your word to me, Harry, and for that, I will not forgive you.”
Harry’s bravado faltered, and he had the grace to look abashed. “I do stupid things when I’m desperate, Tilly. You of all people know that. I hate to be desperate. But I just can’t seem… I thought maybe I’d go to America. They have land for the asking there, opportunity, a chance to start fresh, but I can’t start fresh if I’m penniless.”
America was a desperate measure indeed. Harry would have no old chums in the New World to turn to in a bad moment, no familiar bolt-holes, and his assortment of British regional accents would do him little good.
“You can have that fresh start, Harry,” Matilda said. “All you have to do is divorce me.”
Harry looked honestly puzzled. “Folk like us don’t get divorced, Till. That’s for the prancing lords and…” The puzzlement faded. “I see. And if I am unwilling to divorce you forhis lordship’s convenience, would you rather be his fancy piece than my wife? You do so value your respectability.”
Matilda patted Harry’s hand. “I’d rather be Tremont’sanythingthan your wife. His scullery maid, his fancy piece, his undergardener. Tremont treats everyone with honor and respect, while you regard other people as so many marks for you to bamboozle.”
Harry winced. “You never used to be so harsh, Till. I work with what’s on hand, same as any man who has to earn his keep.” He rubbed his chin and sent Tremont an assessing look. “His nibs could kill me in a duel. It’s been done, to escape creditors, to dodge a nagging wife. Says he’s a dead shot, so folks would believe he’d done away with me.”
Of all the schemes Harry could have concocted…“No,” Tremont said. “For reasons which Mrs. Merridew will understand, I refuse to commit murder, or its theatrical equivalent. Besides, you have a tiresome propensity to rise from the dead. The simple, legal, effective solution to your problems, sir, is to divorce Matilda. You will be awarded handsome damages in the criminal conversation case. You can start afresh, and so can she.”
“How handsome?”
