Pride and Fire (30 page)

“What?” Paul asked. “No. This bit of bad news has nothing to do with my wife.”

“Well, then, what happened?”

“May I use your carriage?” Paul asked, sidestepping Chester’s question.

“Of course, but—”

“Thank you,” Paul said, heading for the staircase to inform his valet to ready his belongings.

A scant hour later, Paul bade farewell to his friends as they stood on the wide stone drive in front of the house.

“Leed, you haven’t told me where you’re going,” Chester said.

“I’m off to London, Chester,” Paul said. He thought of Michelle. “Should any correspondence arrive for me, forward it to my townhouse.”

“Certainly,” Chester nodded.

The carriage rolled down the drive toward the lane that would take Paul to London. With a six hour ride ahead of him, he settled back against the tufted cushion and brooded in thought. As he tried to anticipate what Graves would say he wrapped his mind around several possibilities, some horrific, some merely troublesome. His father had lost Talbot Hall. His father had requested an advance on his stipend. Whatever the solicitor had to tell him, Paul tried to prepare himself for it.

He went directly to the solicitor’s office, unwilling to delay the inevitable. The man in the front office greeted Paul on his way out for the evening and Paul found Graves’ large office in the back.

“Leed,” Graves smiled at him. “Do come in.”

Paul arched a brow at the man. He didn’t know what he had expected, but Graves’ lazy smile confused him.

“I got your message,” Paul said. “I came directly at your summons.”

“I expected as much, which explains why I’m still here this late.” Graves took his place behind his desk. “Do sit, Leed. There have been some developments since our last meeting.”

Paul sat stiffly. He felt slightly off-kilter. “See here, Graves. I came here with the utmost haste when I got your note. Pray, tell me what has you grinning like an idiot.”

“All right,” Graves chuckled. “I’ll tell you. I made a discovery when going over your father’s ledgers—”

“What the devil has he done now?”

“It appears there is a discrepancy which was not clear until yesterday.”

Paul leaned forward in his char. “A discrepancy?”

“Yes,” Graves answered. “Luckily, your father returned to Town after visiting your wife’s family estate and I was able to gain some answers from him.”

Paul braced himself for what those answers might be.

“Easy, Leed.” Graves smiled. “Your father cleared up the matter.”

“And what was that matter, Graves?” Paul asked with trepidation.

“It appears your father kept a separate set of ledgers.”

“A separate set?” Paul came to his feet. “What the devil is he about?”

“Do calm yourself,” Graves said, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. “It’s good news I have for you.”

Paul sat once more. “Good news? Not bloody likely. Oh, go on.”

“As I stated, your father kept a separate account which I only just discovered.” He handed Paul a slip of paper. “Here’s the tally from that account.”

Paul glanced at the number. “My God,” he whispered. “Sixty thousand pounds?”

Graves nodded. “Yes, and when I asked him about it, he got flustered. He finally told me that he’d won it all over the course of the last five years.”

“But why the hell didn’t he have it put into his regular accounts?”

Graves shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the very question I put to him. He wouldn’t give me an answer. Perhaps you could gain one from him.”

Paul nodded, his mind working. “I’ll go to him this very evening.”

“This will more than adequately dower your sisters,” Graves said. “And allow for improvements on Talbot Hall.”

“What of the leased properties?”

“He should be able to pay off those notes as well.”

“Yes,” Paul muttered. “If he ceases his gambling.” He suddenly thought of something that had been nagging at the back of his mind since stepping out of the carriage. “Graves, I need your assistance in another matter.”

“Anything, Leed,” the man said with a nod. “Anything.”

“I’d given it passing thought on my trip from Chesterfield, but this new development makes it all the more plausible.”

“Go on.”

“I wish to return the gift from my wife’s uncle.”

“What?” Graves asked. “But that is highly irregular.”

Paul smirked in answer. “It would be, Graves, if it
was
a gift from her uncle. The money came from a different source entirely.”

“What source?”

“My wife’s dowry.”

The solicitor was stunned speechless.

Paul rose out of the chair. “See to it, Graves.”

Graves nodded his assent.

Satisfied, Paul left for his townhouse. He hoped Michelle was there, for matters must be settled right away. He let his mind work as the carriage wound its way through the late-afternoon traffic. He’d forgive her transgression, surely Reggie put the idea in her head. As to the speeches, that stream of information would end. He’d advise her to keep out of his affairs from now on, though. And to never mention his funds or speeches again.

Feeling quite magnanimous, he let himself into the townhouse.

“My Lord!” Starks exclaimed, his usual facade slipping. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Good evening, Starks,” Paul said. “I’m afraid I grew tired of the slow pace of the country.”

“There are some documents awaiting your attention, My Lord,” Starks stated, his stature restored. “Nothing urgent, I assure you.”

“Yes,” Paul allowed. “I trust you would have contacted me directly otherwise.”

“Of course,” Starks sniffed. “Is Lady Leed with you?”

Paul froze. He’d thought she’d be here when she wasn’t at Thomasham.

“No. Lady Leed remains in the country.”

Starks blinked in surprise, then quickly hid his reaction. He bowed to his master and went to inform the staff of Paul’s arrival.

Paul entered his study. He quickly glanced at the documents awaiting him, confirming his suspicion they were requests for speeches for the upcoming session of Parliament. With the session months away, Paul could afford to set them aside and attend to more pressing matters. Where the devil was she?

He straightened and quickly penned a note, called for Starks, and had the missive sent to Lady Helen’s London residence. He couldn’t swallow his disappointment when, scarcely an hour later, the note was returned with the news Michelle wasn’t there, either. Paul downed a glass of brandy to fortify himself and called for his carriage. He headed directly for the Earl of Talbot’s townhouse.

When he arrived at his father’s home, Catherine and Elizabeth greeted him.

“Oh, Paul!” Catherine gushed. “We weren’t expecting you.” She blinked. “Were we?”

“Oh, no,” Elizabeth put in. “Father surely would have told us. Where is Michelle?”

A flash of pain struck him. He smiled wanly and stated only that she’d stayed in the country. The twins expressed their disappointment at that.

“You must join us for dinner then,” Catherine put in, smiling once more.

“That would be lovely, Catherine,” Paul said. “Right now, however, I need to speak with Father.”

“He’s in his study,” Elizabeth told him.

With a nod to his sisters, Paul strode down the hall to his father’s study.

“Paul,” the Earl of Talbot said in surprise. “What on earth—?”

“I’ve come from Graves’ office, Father,” Paul said without preamble. “He told me of the ledgers.”

Paul let the statement hang in the air. A look of embarrassment crossed Talbot’s face.

His father gave a jerky nod. “Please close the door, son.”

Paul did as he requested. He faced his father once more. “Father, what the hell is going on?”

“Paul, I was too ashamed to say anything about the other account.”

“But why?” Paul asked. “The amount is impressive to say the least.”

The earl buried his head in his hands. “You don’t understand,” he said wearily. “Ah, I suppose it shall be good to finally unburden myself.”

Paul knew the truth at that moment. He thought to put the man’s mind at ease. He sat down and rested his elbows on his knees. “I know about the gambling, Father.”

Talbot looked up at his son, his eyes red-rimmed. “I’ve stopped, son,” he said fervently. “You have my word I shall try my hardest to stay away from the tables.”

Paul nodded encouragingly. “But the money, Father. So much money.”

A shadow of a smile crossed the older man’s face. “I did manage to win a bit over the years.”

“You nearly lost it all. Talbot Hall, the properties…”

Talbot nodded quickly. “I know,” he admitted. “I’m doubly glad Graves discovered the other account. I’m certain it was only a matter of time before that was gone as well. Over the past few years I’ve made and lost several fortunes.”

Paul sharply drew in a breath at that. “I’ll help you avoid temptation, Father.”

The men shook hands and the earl gave Paul a brief hug and led him to the drawing room to await dinner.

“And where is your lovely wife?” his father asked with a smile.

Paul stiffened, wondering the very same thing himself. To his relief, Catherine told their father that Michelle stayed in the country.

“We’ll be going to Talbot Hall soon, Paul,” she added. “Father said he needs to see to some repairs.”

Paul and his father shared a knowing glance. He gave a small nod of respect to his father, at which the earl squared his shoulders. He looked more like the man he was than Paul had seen in years.

Talk turned to the mundane—the quiet of the city now that most of their friends were in the country, the lack of amusements at present. Paul let his sisters’ chatter wash over him, happy for the diversion. To his surprise he was able to put thoughts of his wife out of his mind for a little while.

Much later he sat in his own study, the brandy that had become a ritual perched beside him. He rubbed his hands over his face and tried not to think of the passion he and Michelle had shared on that long-ago afternoon in the study. He’d taken her on the desk, but only after he’d driven both of them out of their minds with desire. He groaned at the thought, wondering if they’d ever be able to put what happened aside and go on with their marriage.

But he’d have to find her first. Setting the glass aside, he left the study and slowly climbed the stairs to their chamber.

* * * *

A few days later Michelle received a note from her late father’s solicitor. Her mother had forwarded the missive from Thomasham, a reminder that any communication from Paul could have easily traveled the same route. That thought caused her heart to clench.

Putting thoughts of her husband out of her mind, she sat in the large parlor at Kanewood and opened the missive. Her heart broke as she read the words contained within. Paul’s solicitor, at his employer’s request, had returned the twenty thousand pounds, giving no explanation. Tears fell onto the paper as she read the note again. That was it, then. He’d returned her dowry, sending her the clear message that he desired nothing from her. She knew her delicate condition made her more sensitive of late, but her husband’s meaning couldn’t be clearer. She folded the letter and let the tears come unhindered.

“Lady Michelle?” Geoffrey said.

Michelle blinked and looked up at him. “Oh no,” was all she managed before breaking into sobs once more.

Geoffrey sat beside her on the settee. After a few minutes, she composed herself.

Geoffrey placed his hand on hers. “Is there anything I can do?”

Michelle looked at him, into his blue eyes so like Paul’s, and nodded.

“Oh, Lord Kanewood.” She threw herself into his arms and cried again. “Paul and I… Reggie and those bloody speeches… my dowry… just hateful…! And now with a baby coming…”

Geoffrey awkwardly patted her back in comfort. Becca soon joined them.

“Michelle,” she said softly.

Michelle sniffled and looked at her friend, clutching the note in her hand.

“Michelle,” Becca asked. “What happened?”

Michelle shook her head, too ashamed to tell them what happened. She took a shuddering breath and squared her shoulders. “It’s hopeless, Rebecca.”

“Hopeless?” Becca asked.

Michelle nodded sadly. “Paul hasn’t contacted me. And now,” she added, holding up the crumpled paper, “he has returned my dowry.”

“Why on earth would he do that?” Geoffrey asked.

Michelle studied her hands, fisted on her lap. “I tricked him into taking it,” she admitted. “He wants nothing of me.”

“But, surely you can—” Geoffrey began.

Becca shook her head sharply, stopping him short. He patted Michelle’s hand once more and stood. “Let me get you something to drink.”

“Yes, Geoffrey,” Becca said. “Tea perhaps?”

He nodded, gave Michelle a small smile of encouragement and left them.

“Oh, Rebecca,” Michelle whispered, shaking her head. “What will I do?”

Chapter 29

“There, there,” Becca soothed. “You don’t have to decide right now. You’re welcome here as long as you like.”

Michelle sniffed. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Michelle studied her for a long moment, finally nodding her agreement. She mentioned nothing of Paul’s speeches or ledgers, only admitting she’d gone behind his back to get a portion of her dowry put into his accounts.

“But why didn’t Leed want your dowry in the first place?”

“He’s a proud man, Rebecca. Proud and stubborn.” She sighed. “I made a terrible mistake going to Reggie for help. I know that now.”

“That snake,” Becca said in disgust. “When I think of what that man did to you…”

Michelle shivered and Becca waved her hand.

“Never mind that,” Becca said quickly.

Michelle let out a breath. “Ah, well. Paul wants nothing to do with me now.”

“You don’t know that, Michelle,” Geoffrey said from the doorway. He carried a glass in his hand. “I thought you could use something a bit stronger than tea just now,” he said.

She nodded and reached for it. “Thank you.” She choked a bit of the brandy down.

“What the devil is wrong with Leed?” Geoffrey asked after a moment.