Page 5 of The Lyon’s Paw

“Never mind, Lucy.” Aunt Frances rose, her voice revealing her weariness. “Set it down there. I will see to Mr. Boniface.” She strode to the door and led the solicitor out.

Lucy scurried in and set the tray down on the table in front of Diana, curtsied, then fled the room.

Staring at the gleaming blue and white China teapot, Diana could think of nothing save all that money that by rights was hers, going instead to some charity. All because her cousins had started that hateful rumor about her.

Aunt Frances returned to the room, her face grim.

Shoulders slumped, Diana looked up at her. “What am I to do, aunt?”

“There is nothing to be done, my dear, save get you married. Mr. Boniface says the codicil cannot be broken, so we have a week to find a gentleman to marry you.”

“Then it might as well be ten years, aunt.” Tears pricked Diana’s eyes. “You know I have no prospects whatsoever now.”

“That’s as may be, my dear.” Aunt Frances leaned over and grasped both of Diana’s hands in hers. “However, do you trust me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then come with me.” She rose, pulling Diana to her feet.

“Where are we going?”

“To see a matchmaker.”

Chapter Two

Sussex, England

The teeming cut crystal tumbler of brandy his best friend Thomas, Lord Braeton had thrust into his hand upon his arrival had mere drops in the bottom by the time Geoffrey had apprized his friend of his dire circumstances. The spirits had helped him get through the difficult confession, but Geoffrey remained stone cold sober as he finished his tale in the library of his friend’s country estate in West Sussex. “I know it’s my fault and my fault alone, Thomas. I should have kept a better eye on things. But damn it, Griffin had served my father for over thirty years. Why would I think he would keep such losses from me?”

“A misplaced sense of duty to your father, most likely.” Thomas sipped his brandy, his face drawn with concern. “He may have felt he’d let him down by not seeing to the running of the estates so they continued to thrive after your father’s death.” His friend shrugged. “He couldn’t admit that to you either, so he hid it as long as he could. If he hadn’t died of natural causes, the admission of the losses to you would likely have done him in.”

“The question now is what can I do to alleviate this crisis? How can I ever raise such a sum?” The appalling amount Mr. Folger had mentioned seemed emblazoned in his mind.

“What did your mother say?”

Geoffrey cast his gaze to the floor, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. “I haven’t told her. I didn’t want to worry her until I had a solution well in hand.”

“Well, you must know what my advice to you will be. You won’t like it, I’m afraid, but it is the best and quickest solution.”

Raising his head, Geoffrey sighed. “What is it?”

“Marry an heiress.”

Geoffrey winced. “I’d thought of that, of course, but only as a last-ditch effort. It seems so Machiavellian to me, the ends justifying the means as it were. Or worse using the lady as a catspaw, a tool to get what I need.” He shook his head. “You are the intellect between us, Thomas. I’d hoped you’d have something a bit less rapacious to offer. I’d prefer to marry a lady I know, and with whom I have something in common. One for whom I feel at least a modicum of affection.”

“Pardon me, Geoffrey, but beggars cannot be choosers.” Thomas’s eyes glared at him over the rim of his tumbler. “And if you remember, I married my wife without knowing anything at all about her, save her name, and we have found much more than a ‘modicum of affection’ for one another.”

“I mean no offence, Thomas, to you or Lady Braeton.” Geoffrey held up a hand to stem his friend’s attack. “How is Honoria?”

Thomas’s tense face relaxed and he smiled broadly. “Doing wonderfully well after the birth of the twins. You must see them and her before you leave.”

“I will of course. You are a most fortunate man, Thomas, to have a woman you love as your wife, an heir and a spare in one fell swoop.” Geoffrey shook his head. “I do envy you.”

“And you counseled me not to marry her, if you remember.” Thomas’s voice had a touch of reproach, but his eyes twinkled with merriment.

“I do, and I wholeheartedly admit I was wrong in giving that advice.” Geoffrey shrugged. “I seem to be wrong so much of the time now. But you were not marrying the woman for her fortune, Thomas. That makes all the difference.”

“Perhaps it does.” His friend came over and sat down beside him. “But you must find other things you can offer in return. Position, an ancient title, a kind and loving husband.”