“Why?” He noted his friend was wearing colours, so he must be out of mourning. “Thought you came into the title and property more than a year back.”
“I did, but my father tied the funds up so I’ve got to marry to untie them. And he put a time limit in the damned codicil. If I don’t do it, I’ll lose the lot.”
“Ah, yes, I recall you saying something of the sort.”
“I should just think you do recall it! I was wild when I found out, I don’t mind telling you.”
Which just about described his old schoolfellow, Alex reflected. As wild as bedamned was Vince. He could not say he was surprised at the late Lord Wintringham taking measures to curb him. He’d often enough deplored his friend’s dissipated habits. He downed his wine and poured another glass.
“Well, you get no sympathy from me, old fellow. Time you settled down.”
Lord Wintringham gave him a glare. “I’ve a good mind to retract my offer of a bed if that’s your attitude. What are you doing here out of season anyhow? Up to some trick yourself, I’ll be bound.”
Alex laughed. “Nothing out of the way. Merely carrying out a commission.”
Vincent eyed him with suspicion. “No, you’re not. You’d not be putting up at a hotel if you weren’t up to something. Why shouldn’t you stay in Berkeley Square?”
“Because the place is shut up. I’m not like you, Vince, kicking up larks. Just the same at Oxford, you madcap loon!”
Vincent laughed. “Well, what are you doing then?”
“Got to see this Vergette fellow, that’s all.”
To his surprise, Vincent snorted, throwing up his eyes. “Vergette the lawyer? You’ll be lucky! Unless he’s your father’s man of business, which I strongly doubt.”
Intrigued, and a good deal dismayed, Alex demanded enlightenment.
“What, you’ve not heard of Vergette?”
“I did think the name was familiar.”
“Familiar? Good God, man, he’s the most exclusive lawyer in London!”
A vague memory surfaced in Alex’s mind, even as his disquiet increased. “Well, if I have heard of him, I can’t think in what connection. But never mind that. What’s all this about him being exclusive?”
“You’ve to be at least a duke before you get Vergette to handle your affairs.”
Alex’s heart dropped. What the deuce had he got himself into? Or was this one of Vincent’s starts? “That can’t be right. Know for a fact he’s served a fellow who’s no better than a wine merchant.”
Vincent’s disbelieving stare was disconcerting. “Wine merchant? Impossible! I tell you, Alex, my father tried for years to get Vergette, but the fellow wouldn’t look at him.”
“But your father was of a rank with mine, though I believe our title is older.”
“Considerably. But that’s not it. I told you. Vergette is practically royalty in the legal world. Dukes, yes. Possibly a marquis or two. Nothing less, I assure you.”
Bemused, Alex could only gaze at the man. To say this put a whole new complexion on Apple’s trust was an understatement. What the deuce kind of a bumblebroth he’d stumbled on, he dreaded to think.
“No wine merchants then?”
“Not unless Vergette was in his cups when he agreed to serve the fellow, and that’s not likely. By all accounts, he’s as sober as a Methodist.”
The development gave Alex furiously to think, but he was obliged to change the subject when Vincent showed an alarming curiosity in his mission. Fortunately, he was readily diverted into a discussion of his own troubles. While Alex responded suitably, however, he was distrait, his mind revolving the mystery of Greenaway having placed his daughter’s trust in the hands of the exclusive Vergette.
After a rough night, disturbed by unquiet dreams of chasing a fugitive Apple through uncharted and unfamiliar territory, Alex set forth in no optimistic frame of mind, after a breakfast in the company of a morose and sleepy host, who was suffering in his usual fashion of a morning from having thoroughly drowned his troubles the night before.
He had Vergette’s direction from Apple, and he was armed with her letter of authority. But Vincent’s revelations had left him doubtful of his reception, even if the wretched fellow was available. If he’d gone off somewhere, what the devil was Alex to do? Chase him down? Resolving to cross that bridge if and when he came to it, he called up a hackney carriage and gave the address to the jarvey.
Alex had dismissed his servants, telling Carver to come to Lord Wintringham’s lodging in Ryder Street for instructions in the afternoon. There was no avoiding sending the coach and horses to the Luthrie stables in the mews behind Berkeley Square. Carver and Laycock could put up in the rooms above, and Alex only hoped the groom left to keep the place in order could be induced to keep his mouth shut. He’d supplied Carver with the means to bribe the man, and must hope it would serve.
