If the more genteel members of society got wind of the story, her situation would be beyond repair. The elderly biddies were worst of all.
“Congratulations are in order, as I’m to understand.” Dev turned to Justin, changing the topic of conversation. “Or condolences… I’m never sure which is most appropriate.”
He’d rather not be reminded.
“I’ll accept the latter, for now anyhow.” Three days earlier, he had discovered he’d inherited a distant uncle’s title and estate. Dev, as the Duke of Prescott, would, of course, be privy to such information. Upon reading the official documents delivered to the vicarage, Justin had made arrangements with his curate and left immediately for London. He hoped the reports hadn’t caught up with him already. He was in no hurry to make any announcements.
As it was, the task of meeting with his uncle’s grieving sisters and examining the estate books loomed akin to contracting the plague. It would change everything. He’d be expected to resign from his current position.
The reading of the will had occurred without him, but as the new Earl of Carlisle, the family would expect him soon. He’d thought to consult with Prescott before opening that Pandora’s Box. In due time, he’d arrive at his new estate, Carlisle House.
“Ah, so you had hoped to remain a member of the clergy indefinitely then?”
Justin dispensed the contents of his own drink in one swallow. Dev leaned forward and refilled the glass. Not until Justin downed the second pour did he answer, “I had.”
Justin initially had wanted to join the effort against Old Boney. He’d been barely seventeen at the time, however, and his mother had persuaded him to go into service for the church instead. Justin was all that she had, and her wishes had weighed heavily on him.
Since then, he had become content at the vicarage while his mother traveled extensively. Presently, she had set up residence in Paris.
He enjoyed writing sermons, visiting parishioners, and assisting those in need.
But all that was to change, it seemed. No public announcements had been made yet, but it was just a matter of time. He preferred his altered status go unnoticed. Perhaps a sojourn to the country would benefit him as well.
“Percival Howard,” he said into his glass. “He wasn’t much older than me. Never married.”
“What’s the title?” Blakely asked. Justin had no concerns that Marcus would spread his news. He’d always been something of a tightlipped chap.
“Carlisle. The deceased was my father’s cousin. I only met him once, and I’ve never visited the estate. Apparently, Percy had an abundance of unmarried sisters but no brothers, and no sons… obviously.”
“Have you been in contact with the sisters yet?” Dev crossed one leg over the other.
“I sent a letter with my condolences this morning. I cannot imagine them anxious for my arrival.” He’d always heard Percival was something of a spendthrift. And a gambler. From what his mother had told him, the lust for gambling had run in the family.
Justin was none too eager to dig into the details of his new financial circumstances.
Dev watched him with narrowed eyes. He, of all people, would understand the extent such an event might turn a man’s life upside down. “The announcement will likely appear in theGazettetomorrow, if it isn’t there today.”
This was not what Justin wanted to hear.
But Blakely apparently found humor in Justin’s plight. “The ladies will be after you soon enough, White. Doesn’t matter if the estate is broke. You’re a titled gentleman now. And to a chit and her mother looking to rise in society, you might as well be fresh meat.”
“Still on the run yourself?” Justin deflected. Marcus Roberts, the heir to a dukedom, was as confirmed a bachelor as could be. It was common knowledge that his father had drawn up a betrothal for him years ago, but it was equally well known that Marcus would never honor it.
“Ah, but I am well practiced in this area. You, my dear Mr. White, despite your good looks and noble blood, haven’t learned the tricks required to keep yourself free of the parson’s noose. Beware of the traps, my friend. Beware of the traps.”
Dash it all. Marriage was the last thing on Justin’s mind. “Let me know if your duchess is amenable to the country, Dev. I’ll happily join you.” He’d delay the inevitable for a few more weeks by such an opportunity and assuage some of his guilt over doing so at the same time.
“Ahem.” None other than the esteemed manager of the exclusive club had approached quietly. “My dear Lord Blakely? Might I have a word?”
Justin chuckled as Marcus rose from his seat. “Forget to pay your dues, old man?” Neither the manager nor Marcus laughed. Justin met Dev’s eyes and both men raised their brows.
“Might have something to do with his father. They’re still on the outs with one another,” Dev suggested. “Dicey situation for the clubs… what with father and son both members.”
“Perhaps not much longer,” Justin observed. Marcus looked none too happy as the manager escorted him toward the front entrance. “Perhaps Lord Blakely will be interested in the duchess’ house party as well.”
And then a cheer arose from the collection of men at the betting book and some sympathy stirred in him for the mysterious beauty. Perhaps her friends would be of assistance in guiding her to change her wayward behavior. He imagined remaining chaste might be more difficult for a girl with her sort of looks.
Hell and damnation, God knew he lusted after her for himself.
