Page 45 of It's All About the Duke
“I agree she would have and rightly so. I should do the same thing.”
“But I won’t stay out of it. I’ve told you before that Eugenia is dear to me. I must help her and Veronica if I can.”
“That’s what I thought.” He leaned against the seat back and watched Marlena. Determination was written all over her face. “It’s kind of you to want to help Miss Everard, but I’m afraid my solicitor reached an empty bottom concerning Mr. Wentfield. He couldn’t find any reference to the man.”
She blinked slowly, letting his words sink in. “Not anywhere? Not even an article written by him? What school he attended? An address?” She looked down at the thick stack sitting under Rath’s hat. “All of that and none of it about Mr. Wentfield?”
Rath wasn’t getting a good feeling about Wentfield. “Not a word.” Tut had wandered over, and he reached down and gave him pat on his shoulder. The dog then settled down by Rath’s boots and curled into a ball to nap.
“I find that hard to believe.” Marlena huffed. “Mr. Portington has purchased things from him before—there were the dragon bones just a few months ago. I—I just assumed he was as well known in the field as Mr. Buckland.”
Rath didn’t want to tell Marlena he was beginning to believe that Mr. Portington had been tricked. Using a made-up name was essential if a person wanted to lurean unsuspecting chap into a scheme and abscond with his money—especially if the person was as gullible as Mr. Portington seemed to be. The only thing Rath knew to do was hire a thief taker from Bow Street to see if he could find out enough about Wentfield to locate the man.
Marlena’s fan-shaped brows furrowed again and she bit down on her bottom lip before saying, “I wonder how it can be that nothing was found about him. Perhaps the—”
“No,” he said. “My solicitor was quite thorough, but I’ll have the matter looked into again.”
“I would be most grateful for any assistance you can give me—I mean give Eugenia—on this. I really don’t know how to help her. She needs to have a Season.”
“Are you sure Mr. Portington used all of her inheritance?”
“Veronica says it’s so. She’s very disturbed about what her husband has done. She’s not a strong person, and sometimes I fear for her well-being.”
He could tell by Marlena’s expression that she wasn’t exaggerating her concern for her neighbor and friend. “That sounds serious.”
“I do believe it is for her. The past few years Mr. Portington has become increasingly more reckless with spending his allowance, and obviously he’s spent Eugenia’s, too. He purchases so many unusual things, and there’s really not room in the house for more, yet he keeps buying. He doesn’t seem to notice how it disturbs Veronica and Eugenia.”
“So Mr. Portington isn’t concerned about their distress?”
Her eyes widened and she quickly said, “I don’t think I should have disclosed that much to you. I really hate that I have to be talking about their private life at all.”
Rath put her at ease by saying, “I am not one to spreadgossip about people, Miss Fast. So anything you say will go no further than my hearing.”
Seeming bothered by his words, she quickly looked away from him and said, “Yes, gossip can spread quickly.” She turned back to him and added, “That is an admirable way to be, Your Grace. In any case, I must help the sisters if possible. Mr. Portington seems unwilling to do anything to change his destructive ways.”
Rath had listened carefully to all her story. Her eyes, her expression told him she believed every word she was saying. He knew many men with gambling and drinking habits they couldn’t control even though it appeared some tried hard to do so. It was a damnable thing he was sure. Some were not able or perhaps just not willing to give up their mistresses or tavern wenches when they married and no longer had need for such services. But he’d never heard of one that had a penchant for collecting oddities. A man should never let anything take control of him.
But all he said to Marlena was, “Or perhaps it’s that he’s incapable of changing his ways.”
“Can’t or won’t. Either way it is a sad situation for the sisters.”
She clasped her hands in her lap and looked down at them.
“I can see this bothers you greatly.”
“More than I can say. I’ve helped them in little ways since I moved next door, but the task gets harder.”
She didn’t lift her lashes and look into his eyes. She wasn’t telling him everything. There was still something she didn’t want him to know. He sensed it but he wouldn’t press her at this time. He could be patient—the mark of a gentleman, his father always said.
“It’s kind of you to want to help, but I agree you are limited in what you can do.”
“Yes. That’s a good way to say it. I need to find Mr. Wentfield and ask him to buy back the eggs.”
Portington was obviously an odd boot. No wonder Miss Everard was so fainthearted. And the man’s wife, too. Looking at Marlena, with the breeze stirring her hair, making her nose a little red and her cheeks pink, Rath knew he would never let her marry such a man as Portington.
That thought caused Rath’s gut to twist. He didn’t want to think about her marrying at all right now. He only wanted to consider what he could do for her. It was noble to help her friends. She was kind and loyal to them, and he wanted to be that way for her.
“It’s not wise for you to approach either man. I don’t know Wentfield, but I’d bet a gold coin he’s not going to buy back the eggs. Perhaps I can speak to Mr. Portington if you would like?”
