Page 56 of The Charming Words of a Common Scoundrel
“As does Derry,” Miller said quietly.
Sam shook his head. “You are likely right about Annie. She was never interested in truly finding a match.”
Miller frowned. “I hope she reconsiders. She deserves to find happiness.”
Miller appeared lost in thought. Sam was tempted to ask him why he never pursued Annie, but Miller first said, “I have been investigating the Claremores and have found some interesting information. They have an overwhelming amount of debt, more so than other nobs.”
He pulled a piece of paper from a drawer in his desk and slid it across to Sam.
“It took me a little longer to find this information as they are very careful about how their name is associated with these accounts, often using a go-between.”
Sam reviewed the paper, and his eyes flew back to Simon’s face in shock. “This is an exorbitant amount of money.”
Miller leaned back in his chair and nodded. “I agree. I have been able to speak with a few of these accounts. I wasn’t sure your interest but if it is to purchase the debt, most are willing as some of them have been dealing unsuccessfully with the Claremores for years. There is one account for which I can’t seem to find the name. The barrister who manages it won’t even see me. That account owns half of their debt.”
Still, Sam thought, if he purchased the other half of their debt, he could force their hand to allow Clara to see her brother as well as be more accepting of their marriage. “I would like you to arrange for me to acquire their debt that is available. I need it to be done as discreetly as possible.”
Miller nodded and frowned. “I need to warn you. The reason these accounts have languished for so long is because the Claremores play dirty. They have done everything in their power to withhold from paying, including character assassination, convincing their friends to not support specific merchants, and much more.”
Bile formed in the back of his throat at their underhanded activities. The Claremores were considered the perfect noble family, and it was all a sham. The hypocrisy of peers never ceased to amaze him. Still, he could use their debt and overindulgence to get what he wanted. His wife would be accepted by them again even if he had to force it.
“I don’t care. Please arrange it.”
Miller nodded.
Their conversation was interrupted by Devons entering the room. He held a glass of brandy in his hand and his cravat hung from his neck. He smiled when he saw them. “Come join me.”
Sam rose and said, “I have things to take care of.”
Devons chuckled. “Your bride has made you a changed man.”
Sam’s chest tightened. He wanted to deny it but couldn’t. He chuckled and ignored Devons’ statement. “You need to force Miller out of this room. He needs to have some fun, instead of scribbling in his books.”
Devons nodded. “I am trying my best. He is part owner of a gentlemen’s club, and he lives like a monk. Every lady who comes here seeking a lover asks about him. His reluctance seems to entice them even more.”
Miller snorted. “I have work to do.”
Devons shook his head. “The work will be here tomorrow. Perhaps you have a lady love that prevents you from enjoying yourself as well?”
Miller flushed and Annie popped in Sam’s mind. Miller laughed and rose. “No lady is holding me back. Perhaps, you are right Devons. A break would do me good.”
Devons smacked him on the back, smiling broadly. He turned to Sam and said, “Are you sure you have no interest?”
Sam shook his head and made his way out.
~
Clara opened her eyes to see Sam asleep in a chair by the fire still going from the night before. It was barely daylight. She wondered when he had come in. She had tossed and turned for most of the night before finally succumbing to exhaustion. He sat with his leg splayed open wide and his jacket wrapped over him. His head rested on the back of the chair. She studied his face. He was a handsome man with a roguishly charming face even in his sleep. She quietly rose and made her way over to him. Ladies talked about his square jaw and his lips that always tilted up in a smirk or a smile. At times, it was still hard to believe he was her husband. She instinctively leaned in to brush his blond hair from his forehead. He caught her hand, and she looked into his eyes, realizing he was awake. She pulled back shyly.
“Good morning. When did you return?” she asked.
He sat up and stretched as his eyes lingered on her. Her body tingled. Reluctantly he pulled his eyes back to her face and said, “Late but you asked that I not wake you.”
“You said you would sleep in your own room,” she whispered back.
He frowned. “I did, but I didn’t want you to think our fight didn’t matter to me, so I thought I would sleep here until you woke.”
Clara’s heart constricted at his words. It rattled her that she had married a man that she had never planned for. A man who cared. Her whole life had been driven by the one goal of finding a husband that would make her family name stronger and more prominent. She felt a lump in her throat. She was going to cry. When did she become such a crier? She took a deep breath and said, “I don’t want to argue with you, Sam.”
