It was important that Miss Meadowbrook be refreshed and attentive to show the proper enthusiasm when it came time to greet the remaining guests scheduled to arrive the following day.
His grandmother, the guest of honor, would arrive tomorrow as well. Two manservants would convey her from the lavish dower house set back from the cliffs. She resided there by choice, along with a handful of servants and two nurses.
Hunt rubbed his jaw. Although entering her eighth decade, Grandmother was sharp as a tack and valued her independence above all. She’d understood the necessity of selling her husband’s estate but was not going to be pleased to hear that the deed was done.
What would his grandmother think of Miss Meadowbrook?
“As much as I resent agreeing with Edge, your intended surprised me as well.” Damien stood back, his fists clasping the cue like it was a tall walking stick. “She lacks that artificial air one usually finds amongst the nouveau riche. I’d hazard to go so far as to say she seems… refined.”
Damien was not wrong.
“She has been attending Miss Primm’s, which happens to be one of England’s finest seminaries for refinement and whatnot.” Hunt scowled as he provided a possible explanation and grunted as he watched Edge drop the last ball into a corner pocket.
Whistling, Edgeworth casually moved around the table, reaching into the pockets and then rolling the balls toward Damien, who was already racking them for a new game.
“Is it possible her mother is the daughter of some penniless nobleman?” Edge asked.
The screeching sound of Mrs. Meadowbrook’s voice came to mind—along with the garish decor and her boisterous manners. Shortly after being introduced to Meadowbrook in June, Hunt had had the family investigated quite thoroughly. The report had included information on her mother’s family and unearthed a few sketchy dealings but hadn’t uncovered anything outright felonious. And that had mattered to him. If she was able to conceive, the child would carry blood from both families.
Despite his dire straits, he couldn’t enter such an agreement with immoral persons.
Although, he contemplated, it might have behooved him to have included the man’s daughter in the investigation.
He smiled at the thought. No, he rather enjoyed unearthing the nature of her character himself. It wasn’t practical, but it would be hypocritical of him to deny it.
“Mrs. Meadowbrook’s father captained one of her father-in-law’s ships.” Hunt had also learned the woman’s legitimacy was in question. But that hadn’t been pertinent.
He’d been mostly concerned with the legitimacy of the Meadowbrook fortune. He’d needed to be sure no debtors held a prior claim to any of it.
The fortune, amassed entirely by Meadowbrook, proved to be sound.
Hunt bent over the felt table and lined up his shot, and although he connected perfectly, not a single ball dropped. “This isn’t one of those aristocratic marriages,” he grumbled, rolling his shoulders.
“Touché,” Damien murmured.
“My apologies,” Hunt said, not usually prone to snapping. But Malum’s deadline was fast approaching, and the pressure wasn’t letting up. With each day that passed, the reality of the duke’s threat unfurled in his gut.
“A man in your circumstances has every right to be getting testy about now,” Edge said. “But half the battle’s already been won. She’s here, isn’t she? If she were genuinely inclined not to marry you, that would hardly be the case.”
Hunt would have liked to believe that. Instead, he poured himself another drink.
The door opened, and all eyes turned to see who would dare interrupt their solitude at such a late hour.
“Don’t mind me. I just need to find something to read.” Eloise wasn’t at all put out to step into a room full of unmarried males. With her hair tucked under a mob cap and slippers peeking out from beneath her dull blue dressing gown, she padded across the rug to where the ladder leaned against the bookshelves that lined the perimeter.
“Say, El.” Damien smiled. “What are your impressions of Miss Meadowbrook?”
Eloise was the most practical of Hunt’s sisters, so he quite approved of Damien asking her opinion.
One hand resting on the latter, Eloise paused and scrunched her nose. “She’s… interesting. I suppose my brother could do worse in his choice of a countess.”
Before Allison’s arrival, Hunt had instructed his sisters, his mother, and every last servant to welcome Miss Meadowbrook with warmth and kindness. And his sisters weren’t fools. Although they had no idea as to the extent of his troubles, they were aware that their father had died, leaving many debts behind.
He’d done nothing to hide his reason for inviting Meadowbrook’s daughter and Miss Fortune to Cliffhouse.
“Is she immune to your charm, dear brother?” Eloise began sliding the ladder along the wall.
“She isn’t like other chits.” Hunt wouldn’t reveal the extent of his frustrations.
