Ignoring her stepmother’s dramatic collapse onto the chaise longue where Prudence was enthusiastically shoving salts up her nose, Patience lifted her eyes from the letter and allowed her horrified gaze to meet that of her equally horrified father.
The Reverend’s pallor was such that Patience was left in no doubt of his genuine terror at the thought of his first wife’s youngest daughter being paraded before theton.For a moment she hadn’t known whether to be relieved or slightly affronted, but then reality kicked in. Her father had every right to be alarmed.
In truth, Patience, more so than any of her sisters, was entirely unsuited to wed especially a man of considerable means, which was clearly Grace and Tempy’s intention. Indeed, the last man who’d attempted to get within thumping distance only ever did it once, and Patience’s reputation in the village had reached an all-time low after the incident with old Bernard’s pig pen. And those individuals didn’t have sixpence to scratch with.
No, Patience decided as she sat defiantly in her tree, if there was to be a fifth Shackleford wedding, it was most definitelynotgoing to be hers.
∞∞∞
Max stared unseeing into the amber depths of his brandy glass. It was two o’clock in the morning, and he felt entirely done to a cow’s thumb. All in all, over the entire evening, he’d recognised the necklace, a bracelet and two diamond rings.
All undoubtedly peddled by his good-for-nothing brother Hugo.
In truth, he only had himself to blame. His desire to be of service to his king had led him to neglect his own affairs. But the plundering of his estates was not what brought him home. Indeed, he remained oblivious of his brother’s perfidy until he was actually back in London.
Rather it was the King’s final descent into madness and Queen Charlotte’s personal request that he return post-haste that brought him back from his position at Wellesley’s side in Portugal.
By the time he reached England, George III’s son was already acting as Prince Regent, and to Max’s surprise, Hugo appeared firmly ensconced in Prinny’s favour, despite their age differences.
That wasn’t so unlikely. In truth, the whole Wolverton family had always had close ties to the Crown, but Max’s father, the ninth Marquess, in particular, shared a loyal and long-standing friendship with George III. So much so, that the King himself was Hugo’s godfather, while Queen Charlotte was Max’s godmother. On the death of their parents in a carriage accident, her majesty had unofficially taken both boys under her wing.
Both had attended Eton and then Oxford under the watchful eye of the King and Queen. But while Max had excelled at most subjects, indeed leaving Oxford with a first in mathematics, Hugo had simply spent his time having a lark and looking to his older brother to extricate him from the various scrapes he got himself into.
At one and twenty, the young Marquess’s good looks made the heart of many a debutante flutter. Already six foot four with hair as black as a raven’s wing and piercing blue eyes, he was hard to miss in the crush of a ballroom. It was unfortunate that he rarely attended any of the balls so beloved of theton.
In truth, Max had always been much more comfortable in his own company. Unlike his brother, he had never been a ladies’ man. Naturally, he’d had his share of dalliances - his popularity with the ladies ensured he was never short of offers - but no woman had managed to snare his heart. Perhaps because he was careful to contain his liaisons to those ladies who were merely looking for a light-hearted diversion.
By all accounts, he provided more than a simple distraction for many smitten females, sending the gossip mongers into a frenzy, though he made sure never to raise Queen Charlotte’s ire in his treatment of the ladies of theton. Throughout his twenties, Max deftly avoided the various schemes of ambitious mothers to secure their daughter the title of Marchioness. Though his popularity never waned, he continued determinedly elusive, and his heart remained firmly his own.
Hugo however was entirely different. A mere ten months younger than Max, his time at Oxford had sealed his reputation for being very much more sociable than his older brother. His entrance into society had been conducted with unbridled enthusiasm, which caused many of the staider members to consider him entirelytoosociable, and more than one scandal was only narrowly avoided due to his older brother’s intervention.
Knowing his brother as he did, Max really should have known better than to leave the marquessatein Hugo’s care.
Naturally, as soon as he arrived back in England from Portugal, Max had immediately paid his respects to the Queen. Her majesty was subdued, even tearful, as might have been expected. But she remained resolute that she would indeed continue as the guardian of her husband even if her sonhadbeen deemed a more worthy regent. It was clear that Charlotte wished to use Max as something of a confidante. Their informal relationship was such that few people were aware of the connection, and the Queen needed someone outside of palace politics to be her ear.
While the Marquess had always been too much of a straight speaker to court favour in parliament, that same candid direct approach had made him invaluable to his monarch as an envoy on the battlefields of Portugal. Now he was returned, Queen Charlotte made it clear that she wished to make use of his plainspoken council in her private affairs.
Once excused from the audience with her majesty, Max had attempted to locate his brother, but was told he was in Brighton with the Prince. With the first stirrings of concern, Max immediately made the journey to Guildford Hall, the family’s country estate in Sussex, there to bring himself up to date with the Wolverton finances.
Having gone through the accounts with a rising sense of outrage, disgust and a sickening fear, Max had sent a missive ordering his younger brother to attend him within the day. Hugo might hide behind Prinny’s coattails,but he wouldn’t dare refuse a formal request from the Marquess of Guildford, even if said Marquess was his older brother.
However, the conversation had not gone as Max might have hoped. Hugo was in turn nonchalant, then, when faced with his culpability, insolently defiant.
Although Hugo had spent his twenties on the fringe of the Prince of Wales’ set, as a younger brother, he was not possessed of sufficient coin to truly ingratiate himself with the heir to the throne. It appeared that once Max had left the country however, Hugo wasted no time in toadying up to the Prince, who by this time had already rid himself of one wife and saddled himself with another in an effort to appease his father and persuade Parliament to settle his mounting debts.
Unfortunately, his highness’s second marriage to Caroline of Brunswick did not curtail the Prince’s excessive eating, drinking and womanising in the slightest, especially as the two hated one another from their first meeting.
Naturally, George’s debts did not diminish either, and Max could only imagine Hugo’s blithe assertion that there was more than enough in the Guildford coffers to help support his prince’s extravagant lifestyle was music to Prinny’s ears. Of course, the Prince chose not to question his young sycophant as to whether the Marquess had, in truth, given his younger brother carte blanche to spend as he wished. Or indeed to sell the Wolverton family heirlooms as he saw fit.
Max had returned home to find the estate all but bankrupt and most of the jewellery gone.
At the end of theirdiscussion, Hugo had departed in a towering rage, refusing to answer any more of his brother’s furious questioning.
Despite his inner fury, once he’d managed to calm down, Max conceded that Hugo was so far up the now Prince Regent’s arse that the Marquess’s hands were completely tied. Despite Queen Charlotte’s fondness for her godson, she would not countenance any accusation that the Prince had helped pilfer the Wolverton coffers - whether knowingly or not. And his highness’s involvement meant that Max dared not publicly reprimand his brother. Indeed, if thetoneven suspected Hugo’s perfidy, not to mention where the money had gone, the Wolverton family would not only never recover from the scandal but would very likely lose what little they had left.
In short, Hugo was untouchable. And his brother knew it.
Swearing, Max poured himself another drink before throwing himself back into his chair. God’s teeth, he couldn’t believe he’d trusted his scoundrel of a brother.NothingHugo had done since boyhood had given Max any reason to believe his sibling was either trustworthy or reliable.
