Page 47 of A Rogue to Resist
“Come now,” Harrison said with a knowing smile. “Your conversations inevitably circle back to her. ‘Lady Katherine suggests this planting method,’ ‘Lady Katherine has implemented that improvement.’ You speak of her asa respected adversary at minimum, and at times, something considerably more admiring.”
“She knows Greythorne better than anyone,” Drake replied stiffly. “It would be foolish to ignore her expertise.”
“Of course,” Harrison agreed, his tone suggesting he wasn’t convinced this was the full explanation.
Drake frowned.
“It’s complicated.”
“Matters of the heart usually are,” Harrison replied mildly.
“This isn’t about my heart,” Drake insisted. “It’s about Greythorne’s welfare. Lady Katherine has proven herself an invaluable resource for understanding the estate’s needs.”
“A resource. Is that how you think of her?”
Drake shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “A colleague, then. A partner in Greythorne’s management, however unexpected that partnership might be.”
“If you say so,” Harrison replied, clearly unconvinced. “Though it might be worth considering why the thought of seeking a bride in London fills you with such dread, when you’ve faced far more daunting challenges without blinking.”
Before Drake could formulate a suitably cutting response, they were interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Winters, looking flustered and out of place in the rarefied atmosphere of White’s.
“My lord,” the solicitor said with a hasty bow. “Forgive the intrusion, but there are matters requiring your immediate attention.”
Drake suppressed a groan. “More conditions attached to my inheritance, Winters? Perhaps I must also take up residence on the moon and learn to play the bagpipes while standing on my head?”
The solicitor blinked, clearly uncertain how to respond to this uncharacteristic display of sarcasm. “No, my lord. It’s rather that I’ve received an inquiry from Mr. Reginald Halston’s solicitors.”
Drake stiffened. “The naval captain. The next in line should I fail to meet the marriage condition.”
“The very same, my lord.” Winters shifted uncomfortably. “It seems he’s heard rumours of the entail’s requirements and wishes to... introduce himself.”
“How extraordinarily convenient,” Drake said, ice creeping into his tone. “And how, precisely, did he become aware of my particular deadline?”
Winters tugged at his cravat. “I couldn’t say with certainty, my lord. Though such provisions are matters of legal record, accessible to those with sufficient motivation to search them out.”
“Or to those tipped off about their existence,” Drake suggested darkly.
“Halston,” Harrison cautioned. “You have no evidence of any impropriety.”
“Not yet,” Drake agreed. “But I find the timing suspicious, to say the least.”
“Be that as it may, my lord,” Winters interjected, “Mr. Halston has requested a meeting. As he is positioned to inherit should you... that is, should the conditions not be met, it might be prudent to assess his character and intentions.”
Drake drained his second brandy, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the mounting frustration in his chest. “By all means, arrange it. I’m curious to meet the man who stands to benefit from my failure.”
“Very good, my lord.” Winters hesitated, then added, “There is also the matter of your search for a suitable bride. I’ve takenthe liberty of compiling a list of eligible young ladies currently in London for the Season.”
He produced a folded document from his coat pocket and placed it on the table between them. Drake stared at it as though it might bite.
“Sixteen names,” Winters continued when Drake made no move to take the list. “All from respectable families, with suitable connections and documented good health. I’ve prioritized those known for their even temperaments and practical dispositions.”
“A cattle market inventory,” Drake muttered, finally picking up the paper.
Winters flushed. “I merely sought to assist in what must be a challenging situation, my lord.”
Drake sighed, regret tempering his frustration. “I apologize, Winters. I know you’re trying to help. It’s just that seeing one’s potential life partners reduced to a list of names and attributes is rather dehumanizing.”
“Of course, my lord.” Winters bowed again. “I’ll leave you to consider the options. The Countess of Westwick’s ball is tomorrow evening. Several of the young ladies will be in attendance, should you wish to make introductions.”
