Christ, Pendleton thought himself the savior of all of England.
“What can I help you with? Is Lady Pendleton well?” Trent cared little for Pendleton’s mother, a disingenuous woman he had never liked. Once his wife had died, Trent had declined to spend much time in Lady Pendleton’s company. She was a grasping, selfish woman with an over-inflated ego and an air of superiority her son had inherited. Pendleton’s mother had never had much use for Trent which was why the invitation to her little house party had been a complete surprise.
Except, Pendleton’s sister was...notdiscreetin her...friendships. Trent supposed Lady Pendleton saw an opportunity to foist off her scandal-ridden daughter on some unsuspecting country bumpkin. Like Trent.
As if I’d have Pendleton’s sister around my girls.
“My mother is fine,” Pendleton said. “She’s here in London. Arrived a few weeks ago.”
“Oh? I wasn’t aware.” Ignorance had been bliss. Now that he had been informed of Lady Pendleton’s presence, manners dictated he call upon her. He would put it off as long as possible.
“Another, if you please, Haddon.” Pendleton held up his empty glass. “This isn’t a social call to discuss my mother.”
Well, that was a relief.
“I’m only here,” Pendleton’s lip curled a bit, “because there isn’t anyone else I can turn to without an enormous scandal erupting—something I wish to avoid.”
Trent got up again but instead of taking Pendleton’s glass, he went to the sideboard and just grabbed the decanter. Pouring out nearly half a glass, Trent set the decanter on the small table between them before handing Pendleton his scotch. “Things must be dire indeed if I am your only hope.”
Pendleton glared at Trent over the rim of his glass.
Trent and his girls were onlytoleratedbecause Trent’s late wife had been related to the current Lord Pendleton’s father. A familial tie not widely known, largely because Lydia didn’t wish it to be. She found the connection be of little use to her and thus not worth her acknowledgement.
Unless Lady Pendleton needed something from Trent. Like his presence to round out a house party.
A vision of Marissa, her lovely face turned in his direction as she slept, the tangled mass of her hair stretching across his chest, filled his mind. He could have watched her sleep for hours that night. Trent had traced the line of her jaw with his fingertip, marveling at the precious gift he’d found at Lady Pendleton’s stupid little house party.
Can I not go more than a few minutes without her invading my thoughts?
No. No he could not.
“I require a favor.” Pendleton regarded Trent with determination.
How mortifying that must be for him. Pendleton far preferred lording over all the lesser beings in his orbit and bestowing favors uponthem. And he considered Trent to be a much lesser being.
Trent leaned back in the chair. “A favor?”
Pendleton’s gaze had grown downright chilly, his nostrils flaring out until he resembled an annoyed bulldog. “As you know, I’m courting the daughter of Sir Richard Higgins.”
“Congratulations.” Higgins owned several banks and was well known in political circles. Ridiculously wealthy, Higgins sought influence and power, which he would have after buying Pendleton for his daughter. “Which one?” Trent asked. Higgins had more than one daughter. Five, to be exact.
“The girl in the middle. Clare.”
A resounding vote of affection if Trent had ever heard one. If Higgins decided to switch out one daughter for another, would Pendleton even notice?
Unlikely.
“I’m assured my suit will be accepted. Higgins and I are in complete agreement.”
Apparently, Miss Clare Higgins had not been consulted. Pendletonhadassumed the same thing about Petra Grantly, but Trent thought it wise not to bring up Pendleton’s past assumption.
“I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”
Pendleton opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again, lips thinning as he took in Trent.
My God. He really does dislike me. Quite a bit.
“We are family, Haddon, are we not?” Pendleton said in a slightly malevolent tone.
