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With more force than called for, Vivian snatched her hands away from Mr. Jameson and practically ran past Clara into the parlor.

Chapter 2

Lady Yarnsby’s townhouse, London

“It’s been much too long.” Lady Yarnsby neared and offered her cheeks for his kisses. “Alexander, dear, you must not stay away so long.”

His mother, as always, preferred to remain in London. Woodhall, the family country estate, now sat empty when he was not there.

The parlor in the townhouse had been recently redecorated, as it was totally different than when he’d been there just two months earlier.

“You have been away and did not tell me where,” he reminded her.

“Didn’t I?” Her lack of consternation, unfortunately, was familiar. “Tell me how your Christmas was.”

In truth, he did not blame his mother for keeping the conversation like that of two acquaintances. They’d never been close. No sooner was he able to speak and walk had his mother spirited him away from one boarding school to another.

When he was about ten, the Duke and Duchess Torrington had come to the school to present everyone with gifts. William had introduced him as his best friend, and Duchess Torrington had been shocked to learn he would spend the holidays alone at the school. She’d insisted he come to their estate. From then on, Alexander had spent every holiday with them and eventually, upon leaving boarding school, had moved in with the Torringtons.

Alexander gave his mother an indulgent smile. “I spent the holiday with my aunt and uncle at the Humphries home. Do you know them?”

“The actuary?” His mother nodded. “Yes, I do. The occasions I’ve been around Sarah Humphries were pleasing. She is a delightful woman. But Alexander”—his mother gave him a pointed look—“I certainly hope you do not plan to court one of her daughters. They are beneath our social stature.”

“William married the eldest.”

“So I have heard. The Torringtons have never maintained society’s standards. The duke shuns his social obligations regularly.”

He waited patiently as she continued to tell him of the reasons he should remain in London and take the title his father had left.

“Taking on the lordship will afford you many privileges. I do not understand your hesitance. I must inform you that I find it most irresponsible.”

Henrietta, his mother’s companion for many years, entered with a tray and poured tea, giving him a knowing look. The woman had infinite patience for his mother and over the years had often been his cohort when he’d needed his mother’s attention.

Taking advantage of his mother’s distraction from the subject of the title, Alexander stirred his tea. “Mother, I have been meeting for months now, with a number of actuaries about Father’s estate. It seems there are several accounts in London banks our family actuary, Mr. Barnes, was not aware of,” he said. “It is very puzzling.”

“I am not surprised,” his mother said, her tone bitter. “Your father had many secrets. Some of which I would rather not know or let them be known.”

“You are aware of more than you are telling me. I need to know what you suspect. Otherwise, father’s estate transactions and such will take longer to complete.”

“Close the accounts. Take the money. I have plenty and do not require more. Just be done with the dreadful business. Even in his death, your father is being difficult.”

If Lady Yarnsby was distant, his father was the opposite. Not in a good way. He had constantly berated Alexander, demanding that he broker questionable business transactions. Being that Alexander had the ear of many in high social positions, his father had often demanded he use it to his advantage.

Lord Reginald Yarnsby had been quite wealthy. According to rumors, his fortune had accumulated in criminal fashion. Nonetheless, perhaps out of fear, his father had been a constant presence at many state functions.

“I prefer to get to the bottom of it and ensure restorations are made where they need to be.”

His mother sighed dramatically. “Your penchant for honorability could very well be your undoing.” She met his gaze, her hazel eyes matching his own. “Tread with care.”

When she looked to the doorway, it was his signal that their time together was over.

The steps down to where his hired carriage awaited seemed steeper. It was as if he carried a weighted burden upon his shoulders. Not unusual after visits with his mother, who’d announced that she herself was considering marriage just as he was about to leave.

Lord Winthrop, an elderly man who attended every single social event, always wearing the most outlandish cravats, was the man in question.

Alex sat back into the soft seat of the carriage after directing the driver to take him to an address he’d been given.

Minutes later, he ascended, stepping carefully onto the frozen cobblestoned surface. He looked up and down the street, noting that although there were several shingles hanging from doorways, it was a questionable part of town.