Douglas raised his glass of Bordeaux and toasted her across the long expanse of table. “Behold what happens to a man when he’s been married close on to forever.”
“You look quite splendid, sir,” Corrie said. “It occurs to me that perhaps I should take lessons from my mama-in-law. James gets his own way far too often for my tastes. If it continues, he will be a domestic tyrant within another year, maybe two.”
“I will give you lessons, Corrie,” Alex said. “It is perhaps more needful since James is so very beautiful. Given how their aunt Melissande is still so glorious, I fear that James and Jason will continue to season well, and that could be a female’s downfall. Yes, lessons you must have, dearest.”
Hallie said, “When my stepmother is angry at my father, her face turns red, she calls him wonderfully inventive names, and tells him he can sleep in the stables. I remember one morning I walked into the stables to see them asleep together in a stall. Hmm. Perhaps, my lady, I can pass the lessons along to Genny.”
But she was leaving in the morning, Jason thought.
The following morning at precisely ten o’clock, Mr. Chartley rose to face a lovely young lady who stood in the doorway of the drawing room. “My butler tells me you are the daughter of Baron Sherard and the niece of the earl of Ravensworth.”
“Yes, Mr. Chartley, I am. I am here to buy Lyon ’s Gate from you.”
“This is quite remarkable, Miss Carrick. Do come in, won’t you? Some tea perhaps?”
“No, sir, but it is kind of you to offer. I am offering you ten percent more than Jason Sherbrooke is offering you. Plainly, I am offering you more than you paid Thomas Hoverton for Lyon ’s Gate. Selling to me, you will make a profit.”
“You know, Miss Carrick, that I have already agreed to sell Lyon ’s Gate to Jason Sherbrooke.”
“Yes, sir, but you haven’t yet signed over the deed to him. It isn’t yet legal.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Mr. Chartley brushed his fingers through his thick black hair. “This is quite remarkable,” he said again. “Young lady, how long do you think I would retain my reputation if I failed to carry through on an agreement I made? No, you needn’t say anything, that is something that concerns you not one whit.” Mr. Chartley sighed. “If I don’t sell you Lyon ’s Gate, your uncle will prevent my precious daughter from entering society. On the other hand, if I don’t sell Lyon ’s Gate to Jason Sherbrooke, his father will prevent my precious daughter from entering society. I believe that I am between the proverbial rock and the hard spot.”
“That is correct, sir. I am the rock. I suggest you accept my offer since the hard spot isn’t in sight. That way you will make a profit.” She gave him a fat smile. “Ah, my uncle-the earl of Ravensworth-looks upon me as a daughter. He was a military man, you know. I wouldn’t want to cross him, were I you. As for my father-”
“I know all about your father,” said Mr. Chartley. “As I do the earl of Northcliffe. Indeed, I see very clearly now. If you will take a seat, Miss Carrick-”
The drawing room door burst open and Jason strode in, the butler behind him, flapping his hands.
Mr. Chartley said, “I believe the hard spot just entered, Miss Carrick.”
Hallie leapt to her feet. “I was so very quiet, I didn’t tell anyone-what are you doing here?”
Jason gave a brief bow to Mr. Chartley. “Forgive me, sir, for barging in like this, but I followed Miss Carrick here.” He stood there, hands on his hips, looking like he wanted to throw her out the wide drawing room windows.
“You can leave, Jason. No one asked you here. Mr. Chartley and I are conducting business.”
“He has already agreed to sell Lyon ’s Gate to me. Give it up, Miss Carrick, give it up.”
“No, never. Two can play the same game, Mr. Sherbrooke. You have only your father to pound nails in Mr. Chartley’s social coffin, whereas I have my father and my uncle to use as, er, leverage-”
“Mr. Sherbrooke, Miss Carrick, I see that I must make a decision. If the two of you would excuse me.” He was out the door, closing it quietly behind him.
Jason and Hallie stared each other down from the length of the drawing room.
“How did you know?”
“I asked Remie to keep an eye on you. If one trusts a woman, one should leap immediately into the Thames and drown oneself.”
“I saw Lyon ’s Gate first!”
“That doesn’t merit a response, Miss Carrick. Go away now. You’ve lost. You admitted it last night. Go home.”
“My threats are just as potent as yours, Mr. Sherbrooke. Why don’t you-”
“I could hear the two of you in the hall.” Mr. Chartley stood a moment in the drawing room doorway, then walked in, smiling at both of them impartially, and held out an envelope to each of them. “Now, this is the very best I can do to ensure my daughter’s social success. I trust that neither of you will feel compelled to seek my destruction.”
“What have you done, sir?” Jason asked, taking the envelope. “You’ve already accepted my offer.”
“I did, Mr. Sherbrooke. But now I have a new understanding of the situation. I suppose you and Miss Carrick could bid on Lyon ’s Gate until I was close to making a fortune, but I am not a stupid man.” He smiled impartially at both of them. “Call me Solomon.”
“What is this, sir?” Jason asked.
“Sir, surely we can come to an arrangement that will prevent the earl from ruining you. What is in this envelope?” asked Hallie.
“Ah, would you just look at the time. I must meet my precious daughter on Bond Street. She has a fitting today at Madame Jordan ’s. Your father so kindly recommended her to me, Mr. Sherbrooke. May I have tea sent in?”
“No,” Hallie said, clutching the envelope to her chest. “I must be going.”
But Mr. Chartley was faster. Jason and Hallie faced each other again, both holding a sealed envelope.
“Mr. Chartley says he’s Solomon?” Jason said.
“I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.” Hallie picked up her skirts and left Jason standing alone in Mr. Chartley’s drawing room, the envelope still unopened in his hand.
Thirty minutes later, Douglas folded the paper and slid it back into the envelope. “Well, I think I wish to share a bottle of wine with Mr. Chartley. This is quite well done of him.”
Hallie paced the width of the estate room, a small, thoroughly masculine room of rich brown leather with a mahogany desk and matching bookshelves. Both Douglas and Jason watched her. She stopped at the window and shook a fist in the direction of Mr. Chartley’s rented house. “He’s a scoundrel, no better than Thomas Hoverton. He’s sold the property to two people.”
“No,” Douglas said. “He sold two people each a half a property.”
“Well, yes, he did, but-”
“It was very clever of him. You, Miss Carrick, placed him in an utterly untenable position.”
“No, it was you who did that, sir. I simply played the same cards. You threatened to exterminate the poor man and his poor daughter if he didn’t roll over like a dead dog and do exactly what you said. I merely followed your example, and look at what it has brought us.” She waved the deed and the draft on the Bank of England in his face. Her own face fell then, and she sat down hard in one of Douglas ’s big leather chairs and put her face in her hands.
Jason said to his father, “I’m gratified. She didn’t pull an elegant stiletto out of her sleeve and plunge it through your arm.”
Hallie’s head jerked up. “I didn’t think of that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get my knife. But there is a problem. These sleeves are so blasted big you can’t hide anything in them. A knife would clatter to the floor.”
“Don’t move, Miss Carrick,” Douglas said. It was his turn to pace the room, his eyes on his boots. He stopped, turned to face the two young people. “I suggest we think of Mr. Chartley as an agent of fate.