Page 6 of A Rogue to Resist
Drake looked up to find Lord Harrison Marwood striding toward them, a glass of port in one hand and a knowing smirk on his face. Harrison was one of the few men in London Drake considered a friend—they’d run in the same circles during Drake’s rare appearances in Town over the years, both preferring the less reputable entertainments London had to offer over tedious Society functions.
“Marwood,” Drake acknowledged with a nod. “Mr. Winters was just explaining the charming situation I’ve inherited.” He gestured to the empty chair beside him. “Join us. Perhaps you can shed some light on my predecessor’s widow, since you’ve been in London far more than I have these past years.”
Mr. Winters began gathering his papers. “I should take my leave, my lord. We can continue our discussion tomorrow.”
Drake waved a dismissive hand. “Leave the financial documents. I’ll review them tonight.”
The solicitor hesitated, then nodded, selecting several papers from his stack and placing them in front of Drake. With a bow, he retreated, visibly relieved to escape.
“You’ve terrified the poor man,” Harrison observed, dropping into the vacated chair.
“He’s too obsequious by half,” Drake said. “Now, tell me what you know about Lady Katherine Halston, Dowager Countess of Greythorne.”
Harrison’s eyebrows rose. “Starting with the important matters, I see.”
“When a woman has managed to secure a significant portion of what should be my inheritance, I consider it important, yes.”
Harrison studied him for a moment, then leaned back, swirling his port thoughtfully. “She’s not what you’re thinking.”
“And what am I thinking?” Drake challenged.
“That she’s some grasping widow who manipulated old Edmund into giving her everything.” Harrison shook his head. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
Drake snorted. “From what I’ve heard of my dear departed cousin, he was no fool. Yet somehow this woman walked away with enough to live in luxury for the rest of her days, while I’m left with an estate in need of ‘improvements,’ as Winters so delicately put it.”
“Edmund might not have been a fool in some ways, true enough,” Harrison said, his voice taking on an unexpected edge. “But he was a different kind of fool altogether.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he was a cold, calculating dastard who managed to secure a marriage to one of the most sought-after young ladies in London, only to make her life a waking nightmare for five years.”
Drake frowned. This didn’t align with what he’d been led to believe.
“I was given to understand it was a successful match.”
“On paper, perhaps. The Duke of Wexford’s beautiful sister marrying the Earl of Greythorne—it looked perfect. But those who paid attention knew better.” Harrison leaned forward. “Edmund Halston was not a kind man, Drake. And Lady Katherine’s settlement was her brother’s way of ensuring she’d have some security in an otherwise miserable arrangement.”
Drake absorbed this information, trying to reconcile it with the narrative he’d constructed in his head—of a manipulative woman who’d taken advantage of his predecessor. “You sound quite familiar with the situation.”
“My sister was a friend of hers before her marriage,” Harrison explained. “She witnessed the change in Lady Katherine after she wed Edmund. The light went out of her, according to Amelia.”
“And yet she stayed with him.”
“What choice did she have? Leaving is unthinkable for someone in her position.” Harrison’s expression hardened. “Besides, Edmund was careful. Whatever cruelties he inflicted stayed behind closed doors.”
Drake drummed his fingers on the table, digesting this unexpected perspective. “You paint a sympathetic picture, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m now required to deal with her regarding certain estate matters that are legally entangled.”
“Be careful, Drake,” Harrison warned. “Lady Katherine may have been Edmund’s victim, but she’s no fragile flower. She’s a Wexford, and they’re known for their steel.”
“Steel or not, I need those lands resolved. The farming properties that border both her dower house and the main estate—”
“Ah, the western fields,” Harrison nodded. “Prime land.”
“Precisely. And according to Winters, there’s ambiguity about whether they fall under her settlement or the entailed property.”
“And you intend to claim them.”
Drake’s eyes narrowed. “They should be part of the Greythorne estate. If my esteemed predecessor hadn’t been so careless with the legal documentation—”
