Rafe raised a hand in greeting. “Pleasant morning.” The mist had not yet burned off, and the grey of dawn hung low around them. The pinks and golds of morning were just beginning to make their presence known. Soon enough, the day would change and London would come to life.
Mr. Rockford filled his barrel-like chest with the fresh air. “Indeed.” His grin was amiable enough, but there was something calculating in his eyes.
Should Rafe have brought a weapon? He nearly chuckled at the absurd thought, then wondered if being so flippant was the absurdity in that situation. Hardly anyone visited Hyde Park at this time of day. Rafe hadn’t spotted any other riders as he’d stretched and warmed Posy’s muscles. What did the American have in store for him? Posy side-stepped, sensing Rafe’s unease. He gave him another pat.
“Shall we?”
“How about we follow the path, hm? Then we can have a chat.”
There it was.
Rafe wasn’t sure if he should feel triumphant or terrified. He’d spent his entire adult life avoiding conversing with a woman’s father, and now it felt as if his entire future hinged upon it.
He forced a pleasant tilt to his lips and inclined his head to have Mr. Rockford lead the way.
The men settled into a fast walk; slow enough that they might converse, but quick enough that the horses didn’t grow too bored. The birdsong above their heads was increasing as the morning drew on. Mr. Rockford was the first to speak.
“My son has reservations about you,” the American said with unapologetic bluntness.
“Oh?” Rafe replied flatly. He wouldn’t pretend to be surprised by the admission, and, judging from Mr. Rockford’s amused grin, this had been the right play.
“You see, Luke is an excellent judge of character…but he is also very protective of his sister.”
“As is his right,” Rafe said, thoughts of Alice making his heart clench before he could stop it.
Mr. Rockford nodded once. “Then you also understand why, as soon as he made your introduction, he immediately brought to me the tabloids recounting the exploits of one, ‘Viscount B’. It does not take a brilliant mind to deduce who those articles were discussing, so I’ve no idea why these English papers even bother with the false names.”
Rafe’s heart began to pound, but he reminded himself that he’d made very sure that the papers caught wind of no bad behavior on his part for just this reason.
“They call you and your friends the ‘Rank of Rakes’, do they not?”
“Rather unfortunate, isn’t it? They have always given us more credit than was due.”
“Are you denying the title?”
“The Marquess of Swanleigh is happily wedded to Miss Caroline Wells now. I will not speak for the other members of our group of friends, but I can tell you that no behavior committed by any of us has been cruel or malicious,” he began with sincerity. “Have outrageous feats been performed? Certainly. Were any of them above what one might expect from the wildness of youth? Not necessarily. Young men toe the line of propriety; it is expected here in England, as I am sure it is in America. These tabloids are notorious for their exaggeration and the liberties they take with the truth, as I am sure you and your family are familiar with.”
Rafe knew the last was precisely the right thing to say, because Mr. Rockford’s lips thinned and he nodded in agreement. Of course, Rafe avoided detailing just how he’d fallen into the habit of exhibiting outrageous and attention-garnering behavior. He’d cut off his right arm before he admitted to the father of the woman he intended to marry that the old Viscount Blackwood had possessed deplorable paternal instincts, only showing an interest in his heir when the lad acted out. What began as disrespecting his instructors and schoolyard tussles morphed into irreverent pranks, the seduction of women, and generally cavorting with all the “wrong” sorts of people. Rafe could not find it in himself to regret any of it, however, because his friends—the Rank of Rakes—were more family to him than his own father had ever been.
Mr. Rockford adjusted his seat before he said, “Be that as it may, I did also make inquiries of my own after it became apparent that you and my daughter were enjoying one another’s company.”
It was suddenly difficult for Rafe to swallow. He was impressed that his voice was as even as it was when he said, “I would expect nothing less.”
“I discovered some interesting information.”
“I find my life to be fairly uninteresting.” Rafe chuckled unevenly. “I look forward to learning what you found ‘interesting’ about me.” Mr. Rockford’s keen eyes met Rafe’s, and he refused to look away. He waited patiently for the older man to speak.
“You are in need of funds.”
“As are most peers. Most every arrangement, engagement, agreement, and contract is built upon this foundation.”
“True, but your need stems back quite a way, doesn’t it?”
Rafe went silent, his mind working with impressive speed as he fought to determine which angle would be preferable.He should have known that someone who was as shrewd a businessman as the elder Mr. Rockford would investigate anyone who had the potential to become close with his daughter. The real question was how deeply he had looked. Was he aware of his wards? The children’s presence in his home and his life was not something he shared openly; never having guests in his home made keeping the secret far easier. However, if the right questions were asked of the right people, then the information would not be too difficult to uncover.
“Your title is centuries old, yet you are the last of your family. Over the years, the Blackwood lands have been whittled away from significant holdings to almost nothing. I might have blamed your youth for poor investments or financial planning, but most of this seems to have taken place before you inherited. Am I correct?”
Rafe gritted his teeth. It had been years since he’d had to answer to anyone about money. To say it was uncomfortable was an understatement, but he also knew it was something he needed to endure if he was going to prove to Mr. Rockford that he was worthy. He couldn’t risk offending the man.
