“Not familiar with him.”
“Lumber merchant with one daughter. He’s purchased Halwell horseflesh in the past.”
“And the daughter?”
Daniel sighed. “Pretty chit, but I’ve not been able to engage her in any sort of conversation. I’m not sure if she’s naturally timid or just clever enough to hide a disagreeable personality behind an impressive dowry.” He shook his head. “And then there’s Arthur Skipworth. Now,hehas a disagreeable personality, but he’s also the largest cotton merchant in Lincolnshire.”
“Sounds like the perfect father-in-law.”
“Well, I’m not planning to live with him,” Daniel said with a note of resignation to his voice. “Now Skipworth has twin daughters and seems keen enough to buy a title for at least one of them.”
“How unlucky for the other one, then.” Alec didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
Daniel quirked a grin in Alec’s direction. “Well, if you’re so interested in the other one, we can be brothers by marriage.”
A mirthless laugh escaped Alec. “The last thing I need is a wife. And certainly not one with a disagreeable father.” Once again, a memory of Poppy flashed in Alec’s mind. He would brave her disagreeable father if she asked him to; but she truly deserved so much better than him.
“Oh!” Daniel said, looking past Alec. “There’s Sam Shaw. I’ve been hoping to bump in into him.”
“Sam Shaw?”
“Mining magnate from Yorkshire.”
Ah, that answered things. “Marriageable daughter?” Alec guessed, not caring enough to catch a glimpse of the man as he was neither on the market for a wife nor for any Yorkshire mines.
“Two of them.” Daniel reached for his cane. “Not twins.” He winced once he pushed out of his seat and used the cane to steady his weight. He looked far from comfortable, like a man who wasn’t accustomed to using a walking device for support. “Damn it all! Not sure how you manage this thing.”
“It’s that or fall on my face,” Alec replied. Of course, his friend’s leg would heal faster than it would take Daniel to become accustomed to such things.
“That’s a fair point.” His friend glanced once more toward something or someonebehind Alec. Mining magnate Sam Shaw, probably. “I will find you once I’m done.”
But Alec was done, in more ways than one. “Heading home.” After all, there was no reason to remain at a gaming hell once bad luck had set in. “But best of luck in your endeavors.”
Just as Daniel hobbled off toward his quarry through the crowd, Alec pushed out of his own seat, gathered his cane and started for the exit.
The hell was smoky and packed to the brim with all variety of London fellows. Alec had been on battlefields that were simpler to navigate. Perhaps a bit of time in the country and away from the madness of Town life would be good for his spirits.
He made his way past a card table when he thought he heard someone calling him over the din. Alec glanced behind him to find Viscounts Harcourt and Chedworth following in his wake. Alec had known the fellows at Eton but he hadn’t crossed paths with them since. He couldn’t imagine what they were after, but then he noticed that Harcourt was waving something in the air, something that looked a lot like a note of sorts. Alec touched his jacket pocket and…sure enough, he found it empty.
“You left this behind,” Harcourt said once he reached Alec, lifting Rhys’ blasted note out for him to take.
Once again, he could not lose that thing if his life depended upon it. Alec forced a smile to his face as he pocketed the note. “You are a lifesaver, Harcourt…” And then something pricked at the back of his mind. Harcourt was heir to the Wharton earldom, wasn’t he? That strange comment from Halwell about Iris Wharton echoed once more in Alec’s mind.A visit from a Galbraith followed by a letter from Iris Wharton. What had that been about? “I was just thinking about your mother, actually.”
The man’s face fell at hearing those words and he exchanged a glance with Chedworth before spearing Alec with a sheepish expression. “You must have gotten one of her invitations, then.”
“Invitation?”
“None of us want to attend,” Chedworth confided, tipping his voice low. “Not that our mothers are giving us much of choice in the matter.”
Harcourt scoffed. “I think you meannochoice, my dear cousin.”
Chedworth agreed with a nod. “Indeed, no choice at all.”
Neither of them made a bit of sense, and Alec blinked at the pair. “No choice in what exactly?”
Harcourt blew out a beleaguered breath. “Mother is hosting aball,” he emphasized the word as though there was a deeper meaning behind it.
A ball? Had Lady Wharton sent an invitation to the Elstone family? Was that what Halwell had been so upset about? “Amagicalevening, hmm?” Alec asked, though he was certain he was right about the nature of the countess’ ball. She did, after all stem from a long and prestigious line of Cornish witches.
