Page 7 of Saving a Scoundrel
The next two doors were shut, and the last on the left was Lucius’s office. He entered the small room; an oak desk, scarred but serviceable, sat to one side facing a worn velvet-covered chaise. Although shockingly ugly with its faded chartreuse color, the chaise was mighty comfortable. The office had a view of the back alley and the mews beyond. Hardly bucolic, but Lucius didn’t need a good view to balance the books with the hell’s nightly tallies. He hung his jacket on the back of the chair and grabbed the neat pile of tally slips left for him in a wire basket on the corner of the desk.
A knock at the door interrupted his work less than an hour later. “Come in,” he called out. Placing a finger on his place in the column of numbers, he looked up when the door opened.
Adam Castell, the club’s owner, walked in, his black hair slicked back and his craggy face freshly shaved. “Morning. How’re the numbers today?”
“Good. Except table seven, third night in a row, the gains have been twenty-three percent less than the average for the room.” Lucius frowned. He hated discrepancies in the patterns.
Castell grunted. “That’s Fischer’s table. I’ll have Mercer keep an eye on him tonight.”
Lucius nodded. Simon Mercer was the floor manager at the Termage. Where Castell was ruthless and menacing, Mercer was smooth-talking sunshine. Just as shrewd as Castell but always able to solve any issue that erupted with calm efficiency.
“You going to Mac’s this afternoon?”
“Yes.”
“Tell him we need two more barrels of his newest brew. It’s been right popular, even with your snooty friends.”
A strange feeling spread through Lucius’s chest, a warm sensation that could only be described as pride. Every Friday, he did the accounting for Macdougal Brewing. Lucius’s interest in the brewing process had led him to offer his help whenever he could on the floor as well. Gavin Macdougal had taken him under his wing, and after eight months of apprenticeship with the master brewer, Mac had let Lucius make his own barrel of beer. With some convincing, his boss had allowed him to bring the barrel to the Termage to test it out. Lucius knew that Mac had put his reputation on the line with the new slightly tart concoction. He had placed his trust in Lucius’s abilities; no one had ever done that before.
Careful not to give away his excitement over the comment, he nodded again. “I’ll add the order to your account.”
Castell turned to leave but pivoted back after just a few steps. “I almost forgot you got a post.” He strode over and dropped a letter on the desk. “Very feminine scrawl. How do you keep all your ladies straight, gov?”
Lucius picked up the letter and chuckled as he recognized Charlotte’s hand. “It’s from my sister, you old lecher.”
“Can’t blame me for assuming.” Castell shrugged and strolled out the door.
Lucius broke the seal and flipped open the letter from his sister. She was the one bright spot in his whole mess of a life. Last year, she had planned to marry the Marquess of Hawksridge but instead had fled down the aisle of St. Georges to run away and marry the man’s brother. It had been the biggest scandal of the season. Lucius had been so very proud of her.
Unfortunately, their family had not had shared the sentiment. Their parents had cut off all contact with Charlotte, refusing to give over her sizable dowry. When he had argued on her behalf, his father had cut off his funds as well. Lucius sighed. It hadn’t all been because of his support for Charlotte and Daniel. Father had threatened for some time to cut him off if he didn’t choose a path for his life. Warning that he would not support Lucius’s debauched social life forever.
Dear Lucius,
I have exciting news. Daniel and I are expecting our first child. The babe should arrive by late fall. We won’t be coming to London this spring as we intended. Daniel feels it is healthier for me to stay in the country air. To be honest, I’m relieved. I don’t wish to be the object of gossip again, and I’m quite concerned about Olivia. I do not want to leave her alone rattling around that big haunted manor house with only her grief to keep her company while everyone is in London for the season.
Capital news! Lucius leaned back in his chair. So he was going to be an uncle again. Not that he ever spent time with the one nephew he had. Their older brother, Edward, had stayed silent when his siblings had been cut off from the family. Wisely siding with their sire and thus keeping his role as the favorite child secure. Lucius snorted. The prick. Well, if this new niece or nephew turned out to be anywhere as adorable as Daniel’s daughter, Josie, it would be a pleasure to take on an active role as an uncle.
Speaking of the social season, I have a favor to ask you. Lady Dearborn has invited Eleanor to accompany them to town. They convinced her father by telling him Eleanor was needed as a sensible companion for Susanna. But I believe that their true intention is to make a debutant out of Ellie and find her a husband. So what I ask of you, brother, is that you keep an eye on Eleanor. Ask her to dance, engage her in conversation if you see her hiding out on the edges of the ballroom. I have written to Hawksridge and asked the same of him. You both have the connections and the ability to help Eleanor have a successful season in society.
Eleanor Spencer would be in London this spring. What had happened to Mr. Evans? Had she gotten up the courage to talk to her father about how she didn’t want to marry the curate? Perhaps this was plan B. In his experience, unmarried women did not come to London for the season if they did not intend to hunt for a husband.
Cautious kitten does London. He would leave it to Hawksridge to do the honorable things, like dance with fresh-faced debutantes. Especially ones with hidden talents for kissing a man senseless, his life was far too complicated right now to watch out for Charlotte’s friends. He pulled out his watch. He had two hours to finish up here before he was expected at Mac’s. Setting aside his sister’s newsy letter to read later, he returned to his work.
Chapter Five
“I’d much ratherhunt down the identity of the author of the love letters than hunt for a husband,” Ellie muttered. The dressmaker and her assistant approached Ellie with yet another dress, this one a blue-and-white cotton day dress. She sighed and let the ladies guide the gown over her head. All morning she had tried on dresses for the new wardrobe Lady Dearborn had insisted on providing. The seamstresses worked through the final fitting with efficiency, but there were so many blasted items. Day dresses, evening gowns, ball gowns, jackets…all so she may fit properly into polite society.
When Ellie had protested that her father would never approve, Lady Dearborn had insisted that as Susanna’s friend, Ellie was her responsibility this spring. And as such, Ellie must not look like some shabby cousin from the country. Her current clothing would simply not do. Susanna’s mother was an indomitable force in a most refined package.
“I heard that, Eleanor Spencer,” Lady Dearborn said from behind them. “The two of you are far too invested in those silly love letters if you ask me.”
Ellie glanced over at Susanna, who rolled her eyes. “Mother, we told you that we have a new clue,” Susanna explained.
Last spring Ellie, Susanna, and their friend Charlotte had been shopping at the little bookshop in Marbury and found letters tucked among a half dozen books. The letters were filled with florid words of love to an unnamed woman. They were all signedAlways, J. These mysterious letters had been the topic of plenty of speculation among their small group of friends. Sophia had found out through the bookstore’s proprietor that the books were purchased from a bookseller here in town, the London Book Emporium.
“I will admit it is all rather mysterious.” Lady Dearborn smiled. “But ladies, let us not lose focus. I’m determined to get you both happily married by summer.”
Both Ellie and Susanna grimaced. It’s not that Ellie was opposed to getting married…to the right person. But, unfortunately, the right person currently thought she was a ridiculous nincompoop whose reaction to being kissed was to run for the hills. And then she had nearly kissed him again when she saw him last month. She’d been so upset about the prospect of marrying Mr. Evans she had nearly thrown herself into Lucius’s arms and begged him to run away with her. Ever since she had kissed him, she couldn’t seem to keep her feelings for him hidden away like she had been doing for so many years. They kept bubbling to the surface, demanding she take action.
