Virginia Henley (43 page)

When he rode into the courtyard at Eaton Place, he hid his amusement and nodded politely to the driver he had encountered last night who was now washing the mud from the black berline coach. At the stables, Nick turned his gray yearling over to a groom then proceeded to the front door, which was opened by Eaton’s liveried majordomo.

“I am sorry, sir, Mr. Eaton is presently engaged.”

“I’ll wait,” Nick said implacably and took a seat in the luxuriously furnished entrance hall. When the servant withdrew, Nick could hear voices coming from Eaton’s office, and he smiled with satisfaction, knowing he had timed his visit perfectly.

“I have concluded that your unfortunate encounter was nothing more than drunken revelry, Mr. Eaton. I believe it was a practical joke perpetrated by young bucks gathered at the inn on Hounslow for a cockfight. Such behavior is reprehensible, yet not uncommon.”

“In other words, Thorpe, you failed to turn up any suspects?”

“You have no witnesses, sir, and I recovered your baggage at the precise spot your coach was stopped, which lends weight to the probability that it was no more than drunken horseplay.”

“You may have recovered my valise and my files, Thorpe, but this leather satchel contained a great deal of money! I was robbed—robbed blind—yet you seem reluctant to pursue the matter!”

“Sir, do you have proof of how much money was in the satchel?”

“Proof? Do you not realize that I am financial advisor to the Duke of Devonshire, among others? My word should be all the proof that is necessary!”

“I am not questioning your word, sir. Nevertheless, the fact remains that the satchel lay out on Hounslow Heath all night where any who passed by were free to help themselves.”

“Your incompetence is staggering! I shall report you to your superiors, Thorpe. I should have gone to the London authorities straightaway.”

“I have reason to believe the London authorities would not waste their valuable time chasing phantom highwaymen on Hounslow Heath. In my opinion, such a tale could make you a laughingstock and cast doubt on your own competence to handle the money of others. I bid you good day, sir.”

The officer left and Nicholas was shown into the office. Eaton’s blood was already boiling with anger, and Nick knew this put the financier at a disadvantage. “Good afternoon. I am here on behalf of my twin, Lord Hatton.” Nick spoke with the same air of authority he had used as Captain Hatton, when he had commanded more than a thousand men. He reached into the breast pocket of his blue superfine coat and brought out the letter that Eaton had sent to his brother and laid it on the desk. “What exactly is the meaning of this?”

Eaton snatched up the letter and scanned it. “It’s simple enough!” he shouted. “He cannot repay the loans I made him. Since I hold the title deed on Hatton Hall, it is forfeit to me.”

Nick’s mouth curved. “Surely you jest. My twin is far too shrewd to forfeit our ancestral home to anyone.”

“Shrewd?” Eaton sneered. “It may come as a shock to you to learn that he has squandered his inheritance along with Hatton Hall. I have his signature and all the necessary documents in my possession.”

“It may come as a shock to you to learn that you
do not
. My twin would never let the deed for Hatton out of his possession.”

Eaton glanced quickly at the metal container of files that sat on his office floor where Thorpe had laid them, then he hesitated, suddenly unsure of himself. Some of the high color left his face, as doubt insinuated itself into his mind and uncertainty drained away his bombastic confidence.

Once more, Nicholas Hatton reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a sheet of paper. Again he laid it on Eaton’s desk. “This is the real list of my late father’s investments, notarized by Tobias Jacobs, his solicitor at law. Lord Hatton wishes to withdraw them from your administration.”

Eaton went purple and opened his mouth to vilify him.

Nick held up his hand. “Before you protest, let me give you the reason,
Joan, darling
. Lord Hatton refuses to do business with a deviant financial advisor who is a member of the decadent Mollies’ Club. I doubt very much if our good friend Hart Cavendish will keep you in his employ either, once he learns what your nickname, the Corkscrew, really stands for.”

Suddenly Eaton was sweating, and a gray pallor had replaced the alarming color of his face. Nicholas smelled victory. When you had a man by the balls, his head and his heart soon followed.

“I am a reasonable man, Eaton, with the patience of a saint. I shall sit quietly while you get my twin’s stocks and bonds from your vault. In return, I shall forgo the pleasure of revealing your scandalous secrets to every newspaper in London.”

Nick was filled with triumph as he rode back to Hatton. When the property came into view, he realized that the hall, with its verdant pastures and tranquil lake, had never looked lovelier nor meant more to him than it did at this moment. He had overcome the threat of its loss and firmly believed the risks he had taken to keep it safe were not only worth it but completely justified.

Nick couldn’t wait to share the wonderful news with his twin and put Kit’s mind at ease about losing Hatton Hall to John Eaton. He knew they would have to have a serious discussion about the investments and choose a new trustworthy financial advisor who would keep a tight rein on his brother’s spending, but Nick decided that could wait. Today, he simply wanted Kit and himself to savor the moment and celebrate their good fortune.

“Kit, are you home?” Nick called the moment he opened the door.

“He’s been outdoors, painting, most of the afternoon. He’ll return when the light starts to fade,” Mr. Burke predicted.

“I have excellent news, Mr. Burke. We can stop worrying about John Eaton; I don’t believe he will be favoring Hatton Hall with his presence any time soon.”

“I was never worried, sir. I knew Eaton was no match for a man who defeated Napoleon.”

Nicholas threw back his head and laughed. “Wellington gave me a little help with that one, Mr. Burke.” He ran upstairs and removed the stocks and bonds from his saddlebags. As he looked at the valuable certificates, Nick admired their father’s shrewdness; his only mistake had been in trusting his cousin. The investments, and Kit’s vulnerability, had proved to be too much of a temptation for a miscreant corrupted by greed, as Eaton was.

He unlocked his desk and placed the investment certificates in the drawer along with the forty thousand pounds. Before he relocked the desk, he removed the title deed to Hatton Hall, along with the paper Christopher had signed, authorizing Eaton to make all financial decisions for him. Nick’s mouth curved as he anticipated his twin’s surprise when he handed it to him. He hung his blue coat in the wardrobe, removed his starched neckcloth, and unfastened the buttons on his embroidered waistcoat. When he heard his brother below, he picked up the two precious documents and hurried downstairs to share the good news.

“Let’s go into the library for a minute, I have a surprise.”

Kit set down his canvasses and followed him warily. “I remember the surprise you gave me last time we were in the library!”

Nick laughed. “I’m sorry I thumped you; I can never remember being that angry with you before.” His eyes examined Kit’s face, and he was relieved to see that the bruise had almost disappeared. “Christopher, if you could have one wish for anything in the entire world, what would it be?”

Kit’s eyes became wistful. “Do you want the truth?”

“Always.” Something told Nick he shouldn’t have asked.

“I wish I could go to Italy and study painting. Did you know that most of the world’s finest art is in the city of Florence?”

“Italy? What about Hatton?”

“Hatton has become a millstone about my bloody neck. Sometimes I hate the damn place!” Kit said passionately.

Nick was dismayed and wished he’d told him the good news immediately. “John Eaton no longer has possession of the title deed to Hatton Hall; we do! It will never be a millstone again.”

Kit stared in amazement at the deed with its red seals. “How on earth did you get it back from the thieving swine?”

“I robbed his coach on the heath.”

“
You
are the highwayman?” Kit asked in disbelief.

Nick grinned. “That’s not the only document I retrieved.” He handed his twin the authorization he’d signed. “I thought you might relish the pleasure of burning this paper.”

Kit let out a whoop of joy. “Christ, Nick, you are amazing! If you hadn’t left to join the army, I never would have gotten into such a bloody mess. Together, nobody can beat us!” He lit a candle, held the paper to the flame until it ignited, then tossed it into the empty fireplace.

“I’m taking Hatton Hall’s deed to London, and putting it in a bank vault, where no one can get their greedy hands on it again.”

“You are an arrogant bastard, Nick. Have you forgotten that I am Lord Hatton and the deed belongs to me?”

“Are you prepared to fight me for it, Kit?” Nick slipped the deed inside his shirt. “I assure you,
my lord,
that is the only way you will get it.”

Gray eyes stared into gray for a long, drawn-out minute. “I was only jesting. Damn, this is such a load off my mind; I think I’ll join Rupert at the Epsom races this weekend to celebrate!”

Nick immediately decided that it was not the best time to tell his twin about the investments he’d recovered. He also concluded that it was high time he removed everything from his desk and got it safely to London. “I won’t join you. I have some unfinished business in Town.”

“In that case why don’t you try out my phaeton? That pair of chestnuts I bought are a bit of a disappointment. Their gait doesn’t seem to match. Perhaps you can solve the problem.”

The problem is that they are not a matched pair
. “All right, I’ll give them a run and take a look.” Nick hesitated, more than curious about Alexandra’s visit this morning. “By the way, did you decide on a date for the wedding yet?”

“I told Alex it would have to be in the next two weeks, thinking I’d need her money to save Hatton, but thanks to you I can now give her the month she asked for.”

“Did you tell her about your financial troubles?”

“Good God, no! I don’t want her to think I’m marrying her for her fortune. She’ll find out soon enough.”

Nick clenched his fists and vowed to replace the money his twin had squandered. He would do everything in his power to make sure that when Kit married Alexandra, it would not be for her money.

 

The next morning, while Kit still slept, Nicholas transferred the stocks and bonds, as well as the four bundles of twenty-pound notes, from his locked desk into a valise. In a separate bag, he packed his black clothes, which Mr. Burke had meticulously cleaned, tucked in the black leather mask, and added his army pistols. In the stables, he harnessed the chestnuts to the phaeton, tied his mare’s reins to the back of the carriage, and was on his way to London before his twin even opened his eyes.

As Nick tooled along the Great West Road, he watched the chestnuts’ gait closely and saw that every now and then, the lighter horse fell out of step with the leader. He theorized that if he put blinkers on it, so that it couldn’t see the leader, it would have to rely on the other animal’s rhythm and would find it easier to keep pace. He reflected that it was rather like what he was doing with Kit, keeping him in the dark about their finances to keep him in line. His mind then moved on to what lay before him.

 

Alexandra put off telling Dottie that she had agreed to marry Kit in two weeks time. Then, on Friday, she received Kit’s note, giving her a short reprieve.

Struggling to push aside all thoughts of Nicholas, Alex went out to the garden to convey her news to Dottie and Margaret. “Christopher and I have decided to get married in a month. Our banns are to be read in Hatton church the next three Sundays, and the wedding will be the following Saturday.”

“Oh, darling, that’s wonderful. You must have a new gown.”

“We cannot afford such an extravagance,” Alex protested.

“Fiddle-faddle! You are to be Lady Hatton; you cannot go to your husband in rags! Ride over and tell Rupert he must drive us to London tomorrow.”

“Rupert and Christopher are going to Epsom races, I’m afraid. I shall ride to Town as I did last weekend. I have to deliver my article to the
Political Register,
” she improvised quickly.

“You cannot ride into Town alone; ’tis most improper! I cannot understand what I was thinking of to let you go last week.”

“I’ll wear Rupert’s clothes and a tie-wig. No one will know I’m a female, and it will be the very last time, I swear! We did have an agreement, Dottie. You promised me complete freedom if I agreed to become Lady Hatton; I have kept my part of the bargain!”

“Mmm”—Dottie cast an accusing glance at Margaret—“I do know what happens when a young woman is forbidden to do something. Since I don’t want you running off with an untitled lout, I suppose I had better let you have your last taste of ‘complete freedom’ as you call it. I shall be most interested in reading your article.”

Alex swallowed. “It’s not finished yet; I’d better get to it.”

When she put pen to paper it was simple enough to write a scathing article about the Prince Regent and his disgraceful attitude toward England’s new hero, Wellington. It was no secret that the Iron General had shouldered most of the cost of war during the last year, with little support from the government or pudding-witted George, who had been deliberately penurious with both troops and funds. Then, when Wellington had won victory for England, Prinny was so jealous and afraid that he had stripped him of his power and sent off his Peninsular Army directly to America, out of his control. Now the Regent was offering him the insulting post of Ambassador to Paris to keep him away from England.