“Lord Devereaux wishes to understand the nature of the transgression you’re apologizing for,” John said.
“A reasonable question to ask,” Coutts added. “When a man breaches the rules of decency and kindness at least a hundred times each day, he must make certain to clarify which transgression he’s seeking absolution for. Sir Heath, if you wish to apologize forallyour faults, I fear you’ll be here all day.”
“I-I apologize for insulting Lady Devereaux,” Sir Heath said, gritting his teeth as if the words pained him.
“Unreservedly?” Coutts said.
Sir Heath nodded, massaging the base of his throat. “Bloody hell, Devereaux, that hurt,” he said, his voice carrying a note of petulance.
“Go whine about it to your friends,” Coutts said. “Better still, your banker. He must be a very sympathetic character, given the size of your loans with him.” He raised his hand. “I say, Drummond! Care to join us? Sir Heath and I were just discussing you.”
The fear in Sir Heath’s eyes intensified—the fear of a man who valued his cashflow more than his life.
A neatly dressed man with a thick head of black hair peppered with gray approached.
“Coutts!” he said. “And Sir Heath Moss. A pleasure as always.”
“Drummond,” Sir Heath muttered, then he slipped away, ignoring the raucous greetings from Foxton and his set, and scuttled toward the exit.
“Something I said?” Drummond asked, settling into a button-backed chair.
“No, something he did,” Coutts said, with a grin. “In his breeches.”
“That explains the odor,” Drummond said. He nodded to Charles. “Lord Devereaux, a pleasure. I didn’t know you were in London, or I’d have arranged a meeting.”
What for? I don’t bank with you.
“To discuss your wife’s arrangements,” Drummond said after John conveyed Charles’s question. “The sale of her annuity—at least, part of it. Forgive me, I thought it was undertaken at your direction, seeing asyour steward—Mr. Carlton, isn’t it?—issued the instructions. I can arrange a meeting tomorrow to discuss the particulars, though the sale was finalized almost a month ago.”
Almost a month? Which meant that she must have made the arrangement shortly after he’d left for London.
For how much?
The banker raised his eyebrows in inquiry, and Charles placed his hands together then drew them apart slowly.
“You’re inquiring as to the amount? One thousand, if I recall.”
One thousand?Devil’s breeches, what was she thinking?
“I say, Drummond, ought you to be discussing this here?” Coutts said. “After all, a client’s confidentiality is—”
“There are no secrets between a man and his wife,” Drummond said. “If I recall, Mr. Carlton said in his letter that Lord Devereaux approved the withdrawal. Lady Devereaux is unlikely to be capable of concealing the matter from her husband—after all, the release of such a substantial sum is bound to attract a man’s attention, unless his wife is…”
Charles leaned forward.Unless my wife is what? Purchasing trinkets for a lover?
Drummond shook his head. “Forgive me, I don’t understand you.”
Charles gestured to John.Tell him.
John frowned and signed back,I’m not asking such a question. Would you have me insult your wife in the manner of Sir Heath?
I want to know what she’s done,Charles signed.
Then ask her rather than listen to gossip. She may have a valid reason.
For spending a thousand pounds under false pretenses?Charles shook his head.A wife’s extravagance can only mean one thing when it is undertaken without her husband’s knowledge behind my back. My father…
John pushed Charles’s hands away. “Your wife is not your father, sir.”
