Page 22 of Moaning Under the Mistletoe
Chapter Ten
Ambrose knew that thesolution should be simple. All he had to do was go cap in hand to Oscar and tell him the truth; admit that he’d been blindsided by the betting book nonsense and talk to Oscar about the whole sorry mess. He’d have to eat humble pie and confess that he might, maybe, have more feelings for Oscar than he really should have. He still hadn’t been able to move, still stationery thanks to his lead feet, awkwardly standing beside the betting book pondering if he should chase after Oscar, when he overheard a heated argument coming from the next room. Was that Lord Bricknell?
“I refuse to marry her. She’s tainted goods.” Yes, definitely Lord Bricknell. His estates were broke thanks to his gambling habit; he could hardly afford to be picky. They’d mingled a lot earlier in the season since they were both focused on similar women in the marriage mart, and every time he interacted with Bricknell he was left with a bitter taste in his mouth. His curiosity at Bricknell’s statement peaked and he leaned closer to the door.
“Then you can’t have her dowry either.”
“I will sue. You promised me an untouched bride.” Lord Bricknell’s statement sent a shudder through Ambrose; surely Bricknell wouldn’t dare be so bold as to publicly ruin a young lady. Ambrose brushed away his own problems, knowing he was only procrastinating facing the truth but if he couldn’t fix his own life, maybe he could help this unknown young lady instead. He pushed open the door, hoping that if this was one of his sisters, someone would defend them too. Sir Moreton stood with his arms folded and his face pale. His daughter Mary was one of the wallflowers who often sat with his sister Jane. Bennington had done his research on all the eligible young women this season, and Moreton’s daughter had made his short list. She wasn’t fashionably beautiful, and Moreton was only a minor baron, but she was tall like Moreton, with good bone structure and had his steadfast qualities.
“Moreton. Bricknell.”
“Bennington.” Moreton’s voice was wavery.
He didn’t bother to pretend he hadn’t overheard. “I understand your daughter is needing a husband, Moreton.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t go there. She’s carrying the stablemaster’s child.” Bricknell sneered. He’d be handsome if he wasn’t so vile with such a mean expression.
“It wasn’t her fault,” Moreton said. Bennington’s heart broke for Miss Moreton at the implication that she’d been taken advantage of. It happened far too frequently and was one of things his father had warned him about when leaving him with the task of protecting his sisters.
Bricknell’s face was a vile twisted thing. “It’s always the woman’s fault, and if it isn’t, it’s your fault for not protecting her. Either way, I won’t have her. There are plenty of other dowries for me to chase.”
Ambrose ignored that utter piece of horridness. “Perhaps, Moreton, you will allow me to court your daughter.”
“You? Why would you want to marry tainted goods? I didn’t think you were so desperate for money.”
“I’m not. But I refuse to stand here and listen to you threaten to ruin a young lady’s reputation.”
Moreton dropped his arms and puffed out his chest. “Be gone with you Bricknell. I’d rather give Mary’s dowry to someone who will stand beside her in times of trouble.”
“Trouble? She’s going to be more trouble than she’s worth if she cavorts with stableboys.” Bricknell spun on his heels and left the room.
“Do you think he’ll sue?” Moreton whispered.
“And look like a money grabbing fool in public? No.” Ambrose had plenty of sisters and knew that fortune hunters liked to hide the fact until it was too late. “No, if he was so vulgar, every purse in England and likely France too would be closed to him. He probably only wanted to see if you’d pay him off privately.”
Moreton nodded. He’d been given a baronetcy after the Battle of Waterloo, one of the new barons created for services to the crown, and now fourteen years later, Moreton was embedded as part of the peerage. A soldier’s daughter would be a wonderful addition to the Earldom. “Are you sure you want to marry my Mary? She’s running out of time.”
