Page 2 of Lady Beast's Bridegroom
Mr. Richards nodded several times, a sure sign that he was already beginning to think about ways and means, and his next words confirmed it. “My major reservation, my lady, is that a man in dire financial need is likely to be unreliable. I suggest we focus on men who have inherited a debt-ridden estate, but do not themselves share the habits of their progenitors.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Arial agreed. “A man of good character who, through no fault of his own, needs an immediate infusion of cash in order to save his estates and his dependents.”
They spent another hour creating a list of attributes and parameters for Mr. Richards’s search, before changing for dinner. Mr. Richards had joined Arial’s companion, Clara Tulloch, by the time Arial came down. Clara had been Arial’s governess and had stayed on as companion and dear friend when Arial left the schoolroom.
Sir Thomas and Lady Wilson soon arrived to join them. The magistrate had been a great friend of her father’s and wholeheartedly agreed to block any attempt by Josiah to pre-empt the legal process.
In the morning, Richards would be on his way back to London. Arial would next see him when she arrived in London herself, in six weeks’ time, to interview the candidates on his shortlist.
Arial quailed at the thought of venturing out of the safe haven she had created for herself. But she could not expect the candidates to take the two-day trip to Greenmount so she could make her selection, and the final choice was too important to be left even to so trusted an adviser as Mr. Richards.
London it would be, then.
*
Three Oaks Manor, Sussex
“Did you tellLady Ransome I wished to see her, Edwards?” Peter Ransome said to his butler. Or, rather, his stepmother’s butler. The man fell short of open disrespect, but Peter knew it was Lady Ransome’s orders that the man followed, rather than Peter’s.
Edwards shifted uneasily and would not meet Peter’s eyes with his own. “Yes, my lord. I gave her the message.”
“And she said…?” Peter asked.
“Nothing, my lord. She ignored me. I repeated your message, and she told me to go away.”
Peter frowned. “I see.” It was possible. Or she told Edwards to say nothing and do nothing.
Peter supposed his stepmother expected him to go up and confront her in her private sitting room, but he was reluctant to meet her on her terms and her grounds. The altercation could not be long delayed. The bills that arrived on his desk an hour ago showed she was continuing to prepare for a London Season, even though he had explained the family’s parlous financial straits.
Peter had left home for the army as soon as he was old enough, and even after returning to England, set himself up in London so he did not have to share a house with his stepmother. He wouldn’t have visited, except that he could not entirely abandon his two half-sisters. Now, he regretted the distance he had imposed. Perhaps, if he’d spent more time with his father, he could have avoided the mess of debts the man left behind. Or at least seen them coming.
Paying his father’s debts had proved impossible in the short term. Peter was making every possible economy, had mortgaged every piece of property his father had left unencumbered, and had sold almost all his horses and his little bachelor apartment.
Even so, he’d made the humiliating round of the creditors he’d been unable to pay to ask for more time. So far, they had accepted the pittance that was all he could offer and waited patiently for the rest, but if Lady Ransome continued spending as if the family was still wealthy, he would be unable to make the next payment on time and that patience would run out.
Ever since Peter gave up his rooms and moved back into Three Oaks Manor, the servants had been divided in their loyalties, uncertain whether to obey the long-time mistress of the house or the person who paid their wages. And Peter had not pressed the point, unwilling to take on yet another battle in the vast succession that had descended as soon as he inherited the viscountcy, its debts, and its dependents.
Things were going to have to change. “Edwards, when I give an order, I expect it to be carried out. Take William with you. Return to Lady Ransome and tell her that I wish to see her immediately. Tell her that I have asked the two of you to escort her to my study. If she does not come, you are to inform her I have told you to carry her.”
“My lord!”
“Do you understand your instructions, Edwards?” They were instructions the man would not carry out, but Peter needed open rebellion in order to have cause to dismiss the man.
“But my lord, you cannot expect me to lay hands on Lady Ransome.”
“If you tell her you are willing to do so, I doubt it will be necessary.” Peter was confident that Edwards would do nothing of the sort, but it would put both Edwards and Lady Ransome on notice that Peter had lost patience with them. “Do you feel unable to continue in my service, Edwards?”
The implied threat was enough. Edwards marched off towards the back of the house, and returned a few minutes later with William following, to climb the stairs to the countess’s private sitting room.
A few minutes later, he returned, looking even more uncomfortable. “She says she will not come, my lord. She says that, if I touch her, she will have me arrested. If you wish to speak with her, you must come to her, she says.” He nibbled his upper lip. “You didn’t really mean me to do it, did you, my lord?”
Peter was not surprised at the response. While waiting for Edwards, he had been thinking about his next move. “You will give her this note, Edwards.”
That should fetch her. It was short and to the point: “I regret that you have refused to allow me to discuss the matter of our finances in person, Lady Ransome. Without such input I am forced to assume you have no intention of curtailing your spending to suit our circumstances. Therefore, I am currently sending notes to instruct Richards to cut off your allowance, the bank to freeze access to your account, and every shop you patronize to tell them I will no longer pay your bills. With every due respect. Ransome.”
The butler bowed, and took the note, holding it at a distance as if it might bite. Which it might. “Edwards, be ready to duck when she reads it,” Peter advised.
He waited, leaning against the door jamb, while Edwards, trailed by William, returned up the stairs. A few seconds later, he heard a screech, and the sound of china or glass breaking, item after item hitting an immovable surface with sad consequences for the item. The ornaments in Lady Ransome’s room were uniformly ugly, but he hoped none of the servants nor his sisters were within range.
