Page 85 of May I Have the Pleasure
“Only the two so far.”
“TWO!!Both dead on your wedding day!”
“Yes sir”
“Astounding!”
“It is rather singular.”
“I must clarify something. Your winnings are not fifty pounds. They are fifty-thousand-pounds… and the Sweetwater estate in Sussex… and five purebred horses.”
“Pray, repeat that!”
“I brought you fifty-thousand-pounds, the deed for an estate capable of three-thousand pounds per annum, and some horses. This may seem indelicate, but you appear to bemuch better off without that worthless husband. I would happily trade just one of those horses for ten of your husband.”
“I am usually better off when my worthless husbands die on my wedding afternoon, but it would not be my preference for acquiring consequence.”
“A sensible argument, and while unpleasant, you now have a much better position in life. May I assist you in any way?”
“Could you tell me, am I in any danger from the previous owner of the estate or the fortune.”
“No madam, you are protected by two things… make that three… no, four.”
“Pray continue, my lord.”
“The first is that most of the men who indulge in thispastimeat that level have a peculiar sense of honour. They think nothing of ruining a woman or allowing a child to starve—but they would consider it a mortal sin to renege on a bet—or at least, they would consider it a sin tobe knownto do so.”
“Forgive me if I observe that anyone with such a perverse sense ofso-called honourdoes not fill me with confidence. Such men seem a touch… ah… inconsistent.”
“A wise attitude, madam. I do not normally travel in those circles, but I know about them. I was only there because I was searching for my dissolute and worthless nephew as a favour to his father. That brings me to your second protection.”
“Pray, continue”
“Much of the fifty-thousand-pounds was apparently from your original fortune, and the rest was from contributions from several men who can well afford it butcannotafford any stain on their so-called honour. I would not expect a problem from them. The man who owned the estate was a dissolute wastrel, the last of his line, and he consoled himself for his loss by drinking himself the rest of the way into a stupor and getting run over by a carriage. He is dead as well.”
“Shall I add him to my body count?”
“I would consider him a suicide.”
“I tend to agree. The third protection?”
“I believe I am the only one who actually knows who you are, and I am probably the only one who knows or cares which estate was in play. If you change back to your maiden name and leave town immediately, I doubt anyone will ever find you. I asked around, and while this particular bunch of ‘gentlemen’ will ignore you, your husband left manyotherdebts of honour and the like in his wake, and some of those may not be so sanguine. I believe none will be able to find you if you lose your latest surname and leave town quickly though.”
“A wise precaution, my lord. I am not so enamoured with the name anyway, so perhaps I will become Mrs Bennet. I dislike Bennet less than either of my other two surnames. I will send an investigator to try to repair some of his damage—at least the ruined women—but that can wait until I am safely away.”
“My solicitor is at your disposal, Mrs Bennet, though you can obviously well afford and should acquire your own.”
“I appreciate that, my lord. You mentioned a fourth protection?”
“I just might have mentioned that anybody who disturbed you over the matter would answer to me on the field of honour. Few would choose to do so.”
“I thank you, sir. May I ask why you are doing this, particularly the last which seems… excessive.”
“My daughter would have been around your age and probably around your disposition had she survived childhood. I feel like helping you is a little bit of payback for the seven years my Emma gave me… and besides—”
“Besides, my lord—”
“Besides that, you amuse me. Not much in my life does that any more, so I find helping you is the same as helping myself. It is entirely selfish, when you get right down to it.”
