He nodded. ‘Yes, when I was at Eton. I found it a pleasant respite to take off into the grounds with my sketch pad rather than listen to law lectures. Such a pastime did not help my grades, though.’
‘I did not know you had a background in law,’ I said, interested despite myself.
‘Yes, that is how I met Smithy, er, Mr Smith-Withers. We were in the same year.’
‘I see,’ I said, my countenance hardening at the mention of that gentleman.
‘But I gather you did not ask for a private meeting to discuss my sketches, no matter how unrealistic you deem them to be,’ he said in a teasing tone. He swung his leg, which was encased in a black riding boot and well-fitted fawn breeches, and I was struck again by how long and lithe his limbs were. His manner of walking was always rather graceful too, but purposeful, like a confident whippet.
I collected myself to deal with the matter at hand. Staring at Mr Hart’s legs was not at all what I was here for!
I sat up straight on the settee and clasped my hands inmy lap. ‘No, I did not,’ I said. ‘I wish to discuss a much more serious matter.’
‘Goodness,’ said Mr Hart in the same light teasing tone. ‘I am all ears.’
I took a breath and steeled myself. What I was about to say would no doubt wipe the smile off his face.
‘Certain information has come to light about your intentions towards my niece, Mr Hart,’ I began, trying not to let my voice betray my nervousness. ‘I have come to ask you, well ... to beg you, really, to leave her alone.’
There was a silence, and Mr Hart stopped swinging his leg.
I did not want to, but I forced myself to look at him. ‘Please,’ I added, thinking I should be polite about it.
‘I am not sure what you are talking about,’ he said slowly.
‘I am talking about the plan you have concocted with Mr Smith-Withers: to marry Lucy, take her dowry, and cast her aside while you continue to live a life of debauchery—as well as deceive your father into becoming heir of Hartmoor.’
Mr Hart’s left eye twitched, and I could tell I had caught him unawares.
‘Well, well. Someone’s been sneaking around and listening at doors,’ he said, his teasing tone gone.
‘I am not here to accuse you or judge you or anything like that. My concern is purely for Lucy. All I ask is that you do not go through with your intention to propose and leave her be,’ I said, hardly believing I was daring to speak to him so plainly.
‘And if I will not?’
Glad that he was speaking plainly too and not bothering to deny he was a scoundrel any longer, I pressed on.
‘Then I will have no choice but to out your plan to everyone I know, and then the word will spread. By the time next Season comes around, you will never again be able to hold your head high in good society, in Bath and even perhaps London.’
‘But who would believe you?’ he said, sounding faintly mocking.
‘I have testimony from another to back up my story.’
‘Who, pray tell?’ To my chagrin, he did not sound as worried as he should be.
‘Cecilia Spencer, of course,’ I said triumphantly. ‘She has told me all about your sordid affair.’
Mr Hart rolled his eyes. ‘Ceci! She was infatuated with me. Everyone knew it. It is why her mother separated us. She couldn’t keep her hands off me in public. I doubt anyone will take Ceci’s word over mine.’
Blast, he might be right about that, I thought, remembering Cecilia had also been quick to defend him when I had dared to criticise herDory.
‘Then ... then I will pay you five hundred pounds to leave Lucy alone,’ I said, pulling out another ace out of my sleeve since the first one had failed.
‘Oho, so now you are bribing me? Wonders will never cease!’ Mr Hart said, sounding amused.
I gazed at him steadily. ‘Call it what you want. My offer stands. What is your answer?’
‘Five hundred would not inspire me to get out of bed in the morning and take a piss,’ he said, folding his arms.
