Page 3 of Ironvine

“Perhaps one day you shall meet a girl you find you cannot do without.”

“What a shocking idea.”

“It is, isn’t it?” she said. “And when that happens, I shall have the last laugh.”

“You certainly shall,” he murmured. The women he preferred were the married kind who were bored with their husbands, eager to be bedded, and could make no claims upon him. Brief affairs where he could walk away whenever he liked without censure or responsibility.

“Once your brother marries, you will be living at Penrose Park, will you not? Hugh did promise the house to you?”

His lips pressed into a firm line. No, Hugh hadn’t.

Penrose Park was his mother’s family estate where her elder brother lived. His mother had been born there, she’d grown up there, and when she’d left his father, she had gone to live there. Met her end there. It was at Penrose Park that she was buried.

That estate was the one thing of his mother that remained, and he’d always wanted that piece of her. It was important to him. Significant. And now upon the death of his uncle, it was Hugh’s, the eldest remaining male relative.

Charles cleared his throat. “Certainly, Hugh has no use for the estate.”

“Are you quite sure of that?”

He shifted his weight. It hadn’t occurred to him that Hugh would not give him Penrose Park, for it was the logical, practical thing to do. But when was Hugh ever logical and practical?

Aunt Vivian squeezed his arm. “I very much appreciate Hugh’s allowing me and Alice to stay there when we are in the country.”

“Come now, of course. It is your family home. You will go there after London?”

“We will, yes, in about a week’s time.” Aunt Vivian brought a hand to his cheek, her expression softening. “Charles, your owning Penrose one day was your mother’s wish, and it is mine too.”

Revelers bustled past them, laughter and shouts resounded, but they all faded, as Charles held his aunt’s clear gaze. That sentiment meant more to him than anything. Taking her hand in his, he cleared his throat. “Perhaps I can be of use to you, Aunt. May I help you find a suitable husband for Alice?”

“Oh, my darling, would you? It was her father’s dearest wish for her to be secured with a good and kind gentleman, and on his deathbed, I promised him I would see to it. She is almost two and twenty.” She let out a sigh, her lips twisting.

“Alice is a gentle, sweet girl with an extremely healthy dowry. Leave it to me. Shall I join you both tomorrow morning at St. James?”

“Yes, wonderful. I look forward to it. Thank you, Charles.

“Has your brother found himself a suitable bride yet?”

“No.”

She let out a sharp laugh. “He’d best get on with it. That pendulum blade your father left behind is swinging.”

A grin swept his lips. “It most certainly is, and I assure you, Hugh feels its sharp edge.” They laughed together. He and his aunt shared the same biting humour.

Behind his aunt, the jugglers finished their performance to great applause, and he spotted Matthew leading Georgina around the performers. His jaw tightened. Charles knew there was another dark walk in that direction which was reserved for private pleasures. Was Matthew hoping to take advantage of the girl? Insanity. No, he wouldn’t let him try.

“Forgive me, Aunt. I must take my leave.”

“Yes, yes, off with you.”

Charles pushed through the thick crowd, torches lighting their faces like unnatural beasts. The smells of bodies, heavy perfumes, grease-laden food cooking, and spilt liquor became unbearable.

Bloody hell.

He’d lost them.

ChapterTwo

Georgina

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