“Seward, my Lord. I’m Phillip, and that’s my brother, Lucas.”
With that, Lord D’Asti nodded, and the stablemaster led the young men from the room. Marco turned his attention to the blacksmith, then.
“Speak to the cook and my butler. I will let them know that they are to supply you with all of the goods and help needed to make ready the cottage for the Seward family’s return.”
“Aye my Lord,” he replied, tipping his hat and walking away with a spring in his step.
Everyone was happy to find a little ray of light amidst all this destruction. Two young men would not be made to pay for the sins of another, now, and his adversary had been revealed.
Marco turned back into the house then, newfound purpose giving him speed as he contemplated how best to handle the position which Lord Greywood had put him in. He was so deeply steeped in his own thoughts that he almost ran right into Farnham, his butler, who held the correspondence tray, which bore an invitation addressed to Marco. He took it, but did not open it immediately.
“Farnham, I am not sure how much of that you overheard…”
“Most of it, my Lord…”
“Excellent – then you’ll have heard the part about arranging things for the cottage next to the blacksmith’s house?”
“Yes, my Lord – I will see to it.”
“Thank you.”
With that arranged, Marco turned, and went to his study. Once there, he opened the invitation and read it, discovering that he’d been invited to Lord and Lady Bellingham’s house party.
His first thought was about how tiresome house parties usually were. Then, it occurred to him that Lord and Lady Bellingham’s estate was located quite close to Thistlewayte Hall, if he remembered correctly, and that they would be absolute fools not to also invite the Calthorpes to their house party, if they cared at all about social position. Perhaps there he could re-acquaint himself with the delightful Lady Eugenia, and secure a betrothal to her before the house party ended.
A betrothal which would solve his problems – but which he found he now desired far more simply because he cared for Lady Eugenia, than because there were debts to deal with.
Maybe he was not so tired of such events, after all.
“Holt?”
Marco, who had been staring out his bedroom window at the burned-out husk of the stables, expecting it to be his valet, looked over his shoulder to see Farnham standing at his bedroom door instead.
“My Lord, Mr Caruthers is here to meet with you. He stated that the matter was most urgent.”
Marco sighed, his stomach tying itself into a cold, hard knot at the mention of the man’s name. If Mr Caruthers was here, he was in a great deal more trouble than he’d thought.
“Very well, please show him into my study and let him know that I will be down to meet with him momentarily.”
Marco turned back to the mirror, adjusting the cravat around his neck. It would have to do. He pulled on his jacket. If he was going to make it to the Bellingham house party tomorrow, he needed to be quick and leave today. After all, Lady Eugenia would be there – he did not want to miss it, could hardly wait to see her again.
“Mr Caruthers?” Marco extended his hand in greeting to the neatly dressed man of business. “How may I help you today? My butler said the matter was urgent. I’m on my way to a house party, I’m afraid. Is there any way we could, perhaps, meet at another time?”
Mr Caruthers gave a humourless laugh, shaking his head.
“No, I’m afraid not. Here is your final notice that we will be seeking alternative means of payment if your debts with us are not settled by the end of the month. We would be willing to wait a little longer if you could give us definitive proof that the funds are forthcoming, such as a marriage arrangement, perhaps?” The balding man gathered his folder of papers, and prepared to leave. “We have extended you every courtesy possible, but we are at the end of the polite measures available to us. Please make this right, Lord D’Asti. You have a week to produce proof of a marriage arrangement, or other suitable source of funds. If you cannot, we will be forced to take alternative action.”
Marco wanted to tell the man his misfortunes, to promise that he would pay, but he was frozen where he stood, unable to speak. Embarrassment overwhelmed him. He was not this sort of man. He paid his bills promptly. His father had been such a reckless fool, gambling everything away in his grief-induced madnessafter Marco’s mother’s death. It was just that now, Marco’s damnable luck seemed to have run out entirely.
Morgan entered the study just after Mr Caruthers had departed, having been called by the butler, as well. He’d passed the balding bill collector as he entered the study.
“What was that about, my Lord - couldn’t he wait for me?”
Marco sat heavily on his chair.
“No, he has already said what he came to say. He is not the only creditor who is at the end of their rope. I must have funds.”
Marco gave a grim shake of his head as he told his steward what Caruthers’ visit had been about.
