Sebastian leaned on the cane and watched the rapidly retreating back of his friend as he was all but dragged away by Lady Langmead. He closed his eyes, his mouth tightening.
‘You’re tired. We must get home,’ Isabel said.
He nodded and, as they turned back towards Somerton House, he paused and straightened, looking down at Isabel. His lips curved in a smile and he crooked his elbow.
‘Would you do me the honour of taking my arm, Lady Somerton?’
She hesitated, but her eyes met his and she found herself smiling in response, as she tucked her gloved hand into the curve of his elbow. Beneath the jacket, the muscles of his forearm tightened at her touch.
‘I must leave tomorrow to ensure all is in readiness for your arrival at Brantstone,’ she said.
‘So soon?’
‘Now you are on your feet, my lord, you don’t need me. Bragge will see to anything you require.’
He nodded, but without enthusiasm. ‘I’m sure he will. Thank you for your kindness, Lady Somerton.’
She glanced up at him and said with absolute honesty, ‘Pure self-interest, Lord Somerton. I am pleased to hand over the responsibility of Brantstone to its rightful master.’
Back in the house, she waited until Sebastian had retired to his bedchamber, with Bennet snapping at his heels. Removing her gloves and bonnet, she handed them to her maid, Lucy, and turned for the stairs. As she heard the door to the bedroom close, she allowed herself to smile.
Not long now. Once Sebastian Alder was safely installed at Brantstone, she would be free.
It was all she could do not to bound up the stairs two at a time, while a voice in her head whispered, ‘Free! Free!’
Chapter Six
Sebastian stood at the window, his hands behind his back, looking down at the bustling London street. A blackened chimney sweep passed the time of day with a butcher’s boy towing a cart of bloodied packages. Two drunken soldiers lurched past, their arms around each other’s shoulders, dark bottles clutched in their hands. Sebastian recognised the facings of their uniforms as belonging to the 59th Regiment of Foot.
ProbablyVeterans of Waterloo, he thought grimly. Soon they would be put out on to half pay, probably forced to beg for a living. Some grim times coming for England’s heroes.
A coach stood at the front of the house, the Somerton arms emblazoned on the door. As he watched, Lady Somerton descended the front steps with a quick, firm step, a black feather in her bonnet waving jauntily, at odds with the deep mourning she affected. She handed the bandbox she carried to her maid and allowed one of the footmen to help her into the coach.
Intriguing woman, Sebastian thought, and, as if he had called out to her, she glanced up. She must have seen him at the window and, while her gaze held his for a moment, she did not in any other way acknowledge his presence before the coachdrove away. With her departure, he felt oddly cast adrift, as if she had been the one familiar person anchoring him to this strange new life; a life that was proving to be even stranger than he could have imagined, if there was truth in what the lawyer in the room behind him was saying. The Somerton man of business, Bragge, and the lawyer had laid out a complete accounting of the Somerton inheritance.
What inheritance?Sebastian had thought with mounting anger as Bragge and the lawyer revealed the full extent of his cousin’s inept management.
It had all gone, expended on clothes and horses and who knew what else besides. There were large, unexplained monthly payments, which Bragge suggested were probably gambling debts, and a foolish investment two years earlier in a gold mine in Guinea, based on a prospectus issued by a group calling themselvesThe Golden Adventurers Club. It was this last bit of idiocy that had taken every last penny, including, it seemed, Isabel’s jointure. Brantstone and the London house were mortgaged.
The lawyer’s nasal voice ceased, and, Bragge loudly cleared his throat, summoning Sebastian back to the business at hand. He turned around in time to see a quick, uncertain glance pass between the two men. They had every right to be nervous.
Sebastian regarded the man with cold eyes.
‘I blame myself,’ Bragge said. ‘His late lordship was not disposed to confide in me. I had no idea that he had...’ The man swallowed, wiping his upper lip with a large kerchief. ‘If I had known... In fairness, the damage to the estate should have been more readily ascertainable.’
Any man of business worth his pay should have known to the penny the extent of his master’s debts at any given time, regardless of other concerns. Sebastian regarded the man without sympathy. If he had been his quartermaster, Bragge would have been flogged. As it was, he may well find himself looking for a new employer before this day was out.
‘Does Lady Somerton know that her jointure is gone?’ he enquired.
Bragge shook his head. ‘No, my lord.’
Sebastian thought of Isabel’s shining eyes as she spoke of her school. How long had she been nurturing this dream? How was he to tell her that all her dreams were dashed because her foolish husband had squandered her money?Hermoney.
‘How did he get his hands on the jointure?’ Sebastian demanded of the lawyer.
The man swallowed. ‘It seems he forged her ladyship’s signature on the documents.’
Reprehensible, Sebastian thought,if not criminal.
