Edward nodded. ‘He is.’
Drake let out a long sigh. He’d never gotten along with his cousin, but he’d never harboured ill will towards him. ‘What about Nathaniel Boas? He was my uncle’s solicitor.’
‘Precisely where I received the information that I just shared with you. Archibald owes him money, and Nathaniel refuses to do any more work for him.’
‘Pay him,’ Drake said. ‘And if Nathaniel knows of other outstanding debts owed by the dukedom, pay them. I won’t have Archibald ruining the legacy of the Duke of Rayburn, not my uncle’s good name, nor those of the men who had come before him.’ Those were not only Archibald’s family ties, they were his family ties, and it was his obligation to defend them.
Hours later, Drake sat in the drawing room of his London home, having done his best to do justice to the meal that Agnes had prepared for him even though he hadn’t been hungry. With a brandy snifter in hand, that he’d taken a sip from, he stared at the window, seeing nothing. Not only was it dark outside, which limited the view, his mind was too preoccupied for his eyes to focus on much of anything.
For a man who had lived most of the last ten years outdoors, on the deck of a ship, he’d certainly been inside a lot lately, and ironically, the sea still wasn’t calling him.
Would he even hear if it did? Feel that once familiar draw inside him?
He shook his head. Not with Meridith filling his thoughts and consuming his emotions.
Now he could add Archibald into the mix. He couldn’t help but think about Blanche, Archibald’s wife, and their twochildren. He barely knew them, but that didn’t matter. They were family.
Thinking about a wife and children made him think about Meridith. His thoughts flowed, throwing up the memory of her plan of restitution for the damage to the park, and bringing his mind right back around to Archibald.
She had come up with a plan that had been right and just for all, whereas Drake hadn’t even been able to come up with a plan that worked out for himself. Not a single one. Because he’d been too selfish. All he’d cared about was himself, and where the next trip would take him. By allowing himself to be consumed with that, he’d failed in so many other aspects. That was nothing to be proud of. In fact, it made him a damnable rake—caring about no one and nothing, except himself.
He hadn’t learned from it either, because he was still thinking about what he wanted, and that was her. Meridith.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ George said from the doorway. ‘The missus and I will be retiring soon. Is there anything you need before then?’
‘No, George,’ Drake replied. ‘Goodnight, and tell Agnes goodnight for me, too.’
‘Yes, sir.’ George held up an envelope. ‘My apologies, but this letter arrived for you while you were in Bristol. Agnes just remembered that she had put it in the drawer while dusting the other day.’
Since he didn’t receive very much mail, and none of it was ever overly important, Drake gestured to the table by the doorway holding the flickering oil lamp. ‘Just leave it on the table.’
‘Very well. Goodnight, sir.’
‘Goodnight.’
Drake turned back to the window, and his thoughts filtered back to Meridith. ‘Damn, I’m a miserable sort,’ he said aloud. ‘And sitting here is making it worse.’
He rose to his feet, deciding to retire for the night himself. Sleep wouldn’t help solve his problems, but he didn’t know what would, either, because he doubted that there was anything that would ever get Meridith off his mind. Even without an agreement with Chesterfield, he couldn’t marry her. She was a lady. A lady who deserved more than a rake like him. Furthermore, she didn’t want to marry him. He could understand her reasons.
He just couldn’t get past the pain.
Upon crossing the room, he paused at the table to extinguish the lamp and saw the envelope. The neat penmanship wasn’t familiar, and he leaned down to blow out the wick, but paused and picked up the envelope instead.
He broke the seal, pulled out a single sheet of paper, and unfolding it, began to read. The writer introduced themselves as simply John and said that he was writing for Clem.
Drake cracked a small grin. He’d written Clem a couple of months ago, to let the man know that the Huge One had made it to London and was now living in a fine house at the zoo.
John went on to say that he had read Clem’s letter to him and was now responding for him. Clem was happy to hear about the Huge One, and if theLondon Starever sailed near the Gulf of Guinea again, Clem knew of another elephant. An orphaned calf that maybe could live at the zoo, too.
Drake shook his head, doubtful that would happen, until he read the next line explaining that Clem said the animal was destined to live the same life that the Huge One had lived at the docks, and that it needed someone to save it, to love it.
Folding the letter, Drake slid it back into the envelope and tapped the edge of it on the table while blowing out the lamp.Perhaps the sea was calling to him, after all, and he hadn’t heard because he hadn’t been listening.
Carrying the envelope, he headed upstairs to bed, remembering how badly Hugo had needed him. Needed to be saved. Little had he known then that saving an elephant would change his life. Bringing Hugo to London had been the reason he was here when Uncle Donald died, and why he’d met Meridith.
Drake paused on the stairs. Hugo had needed him, but he’d needed that elephant, too. Looking into Hugo’s eyes, those big, sorrowful eyes, had opened his heart, let him care about something, someone, besides himself.
Then he’d met Meridith. She’d moved right into his open heart, lock, stock, and barrel.
