“I suppose you are fortunate to have a willing wife waiting for you. You can afford to take your time a little.”
Rowan gave a dry laugh. “About that pie…”
“Yes, let’s eat.” They were leaving the shop when Tristan noticed a book on the end of a shelf and stopped. He picked it up, turning the brown leather over in his hand. It was thefirst of three volumes by A Lady, ones that Caroline had not yet read. She had mentioned wanting to, however.
He stared at the set, unable to make up his mind. Without an engagement between them, a gift like this would be out of the question.
Unless he could contrive to deliver it anonymously…or hold on to it until she agreed to become his wife.
“Interested in novel reading, Tristan?” Rowan asked, eyeing the book.
He reached for the other two volumes. “I think I will purchase these for a friend. I’ll only be a minute.”
“A friend?” Rowan asked suggestively, which Tristan ignored.
He paid the clerk and waited for the books to be wrapped in paper. They left the shop and crossed the road quickly, dodging developing puddles and shielding their faces from the rain. Men were already gathered in the White Hart and the smell of savory beef and something slightly sour tinged the air. A fire roared in the hearth, so they chose seats near it at the end of a long table where the warmth permeated and the seats weren’t cool.
A woman in a serviceable brown dress and a well-used apron approached, drying her hands as she walked. “What can I fetch for you?”
“We’ve heard wonderful things about your pies,” Rowan said.
She nodded. “Aye. Beef and potatoes today.”
“We’ll take two.”
“And a pint of ale?” she asked.
“Yes,” Tristan said, nodding. He was fairly famished, and the smells were making him hungry. A drink would be good.
She left, returning only a minute later with two pints, which she set on the table in front of them.
“Thomas found a bride, and the race began.” Rowan took a long pull from his ale. “Charles is married. Langford is married.”
“No one wants to part with six hundred pounds,” Tristan reasoned.
“Are you on the hunt?”
“Yes. Little good it’s done me,” Tristan muttered.
Rowan lowered his glass. “What do you mean by that?”
“I thought I found a woman, was even ready to propose, but it won’t do.”
“You don’t love her?”
Tristan paused, unsure how to say what had occurred. “It all comes down to money, actually.”
Rowan wrinkled his nose. “You aren’t hurting for funds, are you?”
“No, but Charles will inherit the estate, and I will inherit the Town house. His land will continue to produce an income, but I have nothing. If I do not marry someone with some money, where will we be in a few years? It is an indelicate thing to consider, but it is important.”
“Very much so.” Rowan rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “My man of business was only recently telling me of a venture in the north seeking investors. It could amount to nothing, but he found it promising. Trouble is, I didn’t feel it was the right venture for me. Sounds as though it could be just the thing for you, though.”
Tristan’s faint surge of hope was quickly dashed. “How much capital are they seeking?”
“I cannot quite recall, but if you’re interested, I will have Harry write to you.”
“I don’t see how I can manage to afford it, but I suppose it would not hurt to gather more information.” He sighed as the plates were brought to their table and set before them.Lifting his fork by its wooden handle, he pushed a hole into the pie and watched steam pour out.
