Page 36 of Marry in Secret
But pregnancy hadn’t happened, and now he was even less of a desirable prospect than he was back then. Back then he had family, a career, expectations. Now he was nothing but a piece of human flotsam. Jetsam.
The irony was that now the idea of Rose’s fortune was almost as enticing as the prospect of having her again. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to use her like that.
Ollie regarded Thomas with a jaundiced expression. “See, this is what happens to fellows when they’ve been at sea for too long. They mightappearto be perfectly sane—especially when they get themselves cleaned up and stop looking like a dashed savage—but scratch the surface and they turn out to have rats in the attic!” He poured another glass. “Rats. In. The. Attic!”
He added accusingly, “Do youknowhow many men have begged Rose Rutherford to marry them? Offhand I can think of at least ten. And they’re just the lucky ones who made it past that watchdog of a brother of hers, the Earl of IntimidAshendon.”
Thomas shrugged. He didn’t want to think about it.
“She’ll go back to Everingham, I expect. If he’ll have her.” Ollie swirled his wine. “Complete and utter waste. He’s so full of juice already that he wouldn’t notice whether she brought a fortune or not, the insufferable prig. Now someone like me, for instance—”
“Is he?”
“Who?”
“The Duke of Everingham? Is he an insufferable prig?” He needed to know. Because if Rose was going to marry him...
Ollie pulled a face. “Not really. Bit of a cold bastard by all accounts—not that I move in his circles. But when a man as rich as that snaps up the prettiest heiress in the ton, got to despise him, eh?” He drained another glass. “Damned wasteful.”
Silence fell, broken eventually by the sound of a cat yowling on a roof nearby.
“Blasted cats,” Ollie muttered. “So, plans. My half day tomorrow, how about I show you round a bit, put you down for my club, get my tailor to measure you up, that sort of thing.”
Thomas eyed his friend’s extremely natty coat. “Until I ascertain the state of my accounts, I doubt I can afford your tailor. Or your club.”
Ollie sat up, shocked. “Can’t keep goin’ around in another fellow’s castoffs. Best order everything you need, the sooner the better. Weston for coats, Hoby for boots—”
“These boots will do for the moment.”
The look Ollie gave him reminded Thomas of a Latin teacher he’d once had. “They won’t, you know. You need more than one pair, and a variety of other shoes as well. You’re not striding around on the deck of a ship now, you know.”
For most of the last four years Thomas had worn no shoes at all. Ollie would be horrified.
“Society judges by appearances—remember the reception you got yesterday when you arrived looking like a wild man? Unless you want to be fobbed off on the lowliest clerk, you need to dress—and act—like a gentleman.”
“I have more important things to do than go shopping. I have business to discuss at the Admiralty.” And not just for back pay. His men needed rescuing. “And then I’ll visit my bank—I had a small amount saved before my ship went down.”
Ollie shook his head pessimistically. “Good luck with that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Clams, the lot of them—navy, banks, lawyers—they all hate coughing up money. It’ll probably take forever—especially since they’ve got you down as a dead man. Lord knows where your savings have gone—into some deep dark vault, I’ll be bound, and you’ll have to produce yourself in triplicate, stamped with the king’s seal and escorted by two bishops and your old nanny before they’ll even let you in the door.”
Thomas laughed.
“Don’t mean to pry,” Ollie said after a moment, “but wasn’t there an uncle or some such relative on the horizon? I’m sure you mentioned him once or twice. Might he be able to bail you out? Or at least make you a loan?”
Thomas shook his head. He’d never been the sort to puff off his grand relations in front of his friends, and now that he’d been rejected by his family, that was a relief. “Not possible, I’m afraid.” He wouldn’t ask his uncle for help now if he were dying. Not that he’d get any if he did.
“Well, if you want my advice, you’ll order whatever duds you need and hope the bank and the Admiralty have come through by the time the bills come in.”
“What if they don’t?”
“Delay, man—what do you think half the gentlemen of London do? Order a new coat, and delay. Something will turn up, count on it.”
***
By the time Rose went to bed, she was exhausted. Such a day full of turmoil and emotion. She should have collapsed, senseless, but instead she tossed and turned restlessly, unable to stop the thoughts and arguments that raged in her mind.
