The Duke's Gamble
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Prologue
“I do not think you should do this, Dartmoor.”
Samuel shrugged off his friend’s restraining arm. “Do not think to hold me back from this. I shall do as I please.”
“But at what cost?” His friend gestured to the table behind him, to where Samuel was soon to return to finish his game of cards. “You can see that the fellow is quite drunk.”
A sly grin slipped across Samuel’s lips. “Precisely,” he muttered, picking up his glass and making to take a small sip. That is exactly what I am hoping for.
Gambling was not something that Samuel often engaged in. His father’s foolishness shortly before he had passed away meant that Samuel now had a good deal less wealth to his name than he might otherwise have had and thus, he had sworn he would never be pulled into such a game without great consideration—and not without all of his wits about him either. Thus, he now imbibed only a little, a glass of brandy in his hand but it was the first one he had brought to his lips all evening. Many of the other gentleman present had been indulging in liquor for a long time now and that, Samuel considered, was not only foolish but irresponsible. However, at the very same time, it did put him into a stronger position than some of the other fellows present. When the time came for them to take their places again, Samuel was quite certain that he could win—and win well.
“I do not think it is fair to play against some of these fellows.”
“Will you desist?” Samuel rounded on the Earl of Crawley, a gentleman who had long been acquainted with him. He gritted his teeth for a moment before speaking again, his brows deeply furrowed. “I do not require your guidance, Lord Crawley, nor do I wish for you to dictate what I ought to be doing or what I should step back from! I am no child. I am a gentleman, fully aware of the present circumstances and the duties that fall to me. It is not my fault that these gentlemen have indulged in excess this evening. Had they any sense, they would be sitting at the card table with nothing but water to drink.” He shrugged dismissively, casting a glance around the room, his lip curling. “As it is, most of them are already quite in their cups, though I shall not pretend that this concerns me in the slightest. They are responsible for their own actions, as I am for mine.”
“But you have a choice.” Lord Crawley gestured to a young man who, at this present moment, seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open despite the fact the game was not yet over. “Take Lord Haddington, for instance. You have already won a considerable sum from him. You can see how poor a state he is in and yes while I will grant that he has brought this upon himself, can you not find it within you to feel some sympathy for him?”
“Sympathy” Samuel scoffed. “Why ever should I offer him such a thing?”
Lord Crawley rolled his eyes. “Because he is young, recently bereft of his father, and, by all accounts, overwhelmed by the many responsibilities that have suddenly fallen upon him. I believe you can understand that.”
A scowl tightened at Samuel’s features. Indeed, he did understand that feeling, yet he refused to allow any softness to creep into his resolve. What he sought was to rise, and this was precisely how he intended to do so. If he had to relieve Lord Haddington of every coin he possessed, so be it. Mayhap it would serve as a lesson to the young man, while advancing Samuel’s own future according to the plan he had set in motion.
“You do not care.” A dull tone had crept into Lord Crawley’s voice and Samuel, still irritated by his friend’s whining and encouragements to turn away from what he had planned, scowled all the harder.
“Finally, it seems as though you understand me,” he said, crisply. “Yes, Lord Crawley, I do not care in the least bit what state these gentlemen are in. All I care about is sitting at that card table and playing cards, ensuring that I am going to be successful.”
“At the detriment of others?”
Samuel threw up his hands. “I am not forcing them to sit at the table, am I?” he hissed, his chest tight now though he ignored the slight prick of his conscience as Lord Crawley shook his head, clearly displeased with all Samuel’s remarks. “If other gentlemen wish to sit down at the table when their minds are clouded by brandy, then what care I?”
Lord Crawley drew himself up. “A gentleman of excellence would not seek to take advantage,” he said, his words pronounced, darts aimed squarely at Samuel’s heart. “A gentleman of quality would, at the very least, attempt to understand another gentleman’s struggles, without the desire to profit from them.”
Samuel’s lip curled all the more. “You mistake one thing there, Crawley,” he hissed, his finger jabbing at Lord Crawley’s chest. He paused, watching his friend scowl, the question clear in his gaze but as yet unspoken. Moments passed in silence until, at last, Lord Crawley relented.
“And what mistake have I made, my friend?”
Samuel smiled darkly, his hand falling back to his side. “I am not a gentleman of excellence and nor do I care to be,” he replied, his chin tilting upwards. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a card game to return to and more coin to win.”
The dark smile on Samuel’s lips widened as he observed Lord Haddington, now staggering back toward the table. This night, he was certain, would bring great advantage—though such advantage would be his alone. Lord Haddington and several others might lose their fortunes and find themselves sorely disappointed, but in Samuel’s heart, he could not bring himself to care.
Chapter One
What is to become of us?
Lady Florentina finished pouring the tea for her mother and sisters and then finally took her seat. The silence that followed seemed to grow heavier with every moment and Florentina felt as though she were being pressed into her seat all the more. Her shoulders dropped and she closed her eyes, aware of the tears that pressed against them, desperate to be freed.
“Where is Henry?”
Florentina looked up as her mother spoke, keenly aware of how Lady Haddington had not lifted her head nor allowed her gaze to rest on anyone ever since they had returned from the graveside.
“I do not know, mama,” she replied, casting a glance at each of her sisters in turn, though none of them had any answer to offer. “Shall I go and find him, if you wish it?”
Lady Haddington said nothing for some minutes and Florentina felt herself begin to grow a little fretful. Clasping her hands together tightly, she pressed her lips together and held her gaze steady, forcing herself to keep silent rather than press her mother for a response. The loss of the Earl of Haddington—Florentina’s father and Lady Haddington’s husband—had been a heavy burden for the family to bear and Florentina knew she had to treat her mother with as much kindness and gentleness as possible, even though she herself was entirely broken also. But, as the eldest of the Haddington daughters, she felt a responsibility towards both her mother and her younger siblings.
“I ought not to call him Henry any longer, I suppose.”
Florentina’s attention was once more drawn to her mother, who had begun to speak in a dull voice, her eyes still downcast and her shoulders slumped.
“He is the new Earl of Haddington.”
This was spoken without any sense of gladness, without any whisper of joy. It was simply spoken as a matter of fact, that this was now how things stood.
“He is still Henry, mama,” said Miriam, one of Florentina’s sisters. “You may still call him by his name, if you wish it.”
Lady Haddington did not say anything in response to this. Instead, she drew in a long breath, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the chair. Florentina exchanged a brief glance with Miriam and offered a sad smile, seeing the tears welling in her sister’s eyes. They were all so broken, so lost in their sorrow, it seemed as though they might never rise from it.
“Henry shall take care of our family, mama.” Christina, sitting next to Miriam, leaned forward in her chair and spoke with such earnestness that Florentina’s heart ached at the weight of their current circumstances. “He understands his responsibilities towards us. Father taught him well, I am certain of it.”
“Of course he did.” Miriam’s eyes were fixed to her teacup, her mouth thin and her cheeks pale. “But whether or not our elder brother is willing to put into practice all that Father taught him is another matter entirely.”
“I am certain he shall,” Florentina interrupted, sensing her sister’s fears. Though she understood them, she knew she could not allow them to taint their mother’s already dark world. “Let us not forget that he, too, is struggling with his own grief at present. It is no small burden for him, especially now that he must shoulder the full weight of the title.” She straightened in her chair, raising her chin slightly and forcing confidence into her voice, even though she did not feel it. “Give Henry some time and I am certain he will not fail us.”
“Indeed.” Her mother sighed and lifted her eyes to Florentina’s. Florentina smiled gently but her mother did not return it with one of her own. There was still too much sorrow within her heart to permit such a thing but Florentina prayed that, in time, the pain and grief would lessen. “Florentina, might you go in search of Henry?” She stopped, closed her eyes and shook her head. “Might you go in search of Lord Haddington, my dear? There are some matters I should like to discuss with him.”
Florentina swallowed the lump in her throat that came with the mention of her late father’s title. It was quite right and proper that it should be bestowed on her brother now, but still, there was such a great swell of emotion on hearing it that Florentina could not immediately answer.
“Yes, mama.” Rising to her feet, Florentina drew in a deep breath and made her way to the door. They were no longer the contented, secure family that they had once been. Their father’s untimely death had brought with it a sense of chaos, of uncertainty and fear. Florentina could only pray that her brother would do all he could to make certain that their futures would be entirely secured. Her father had promised them all so much and now he was gone from them forever. Would Henry be able to fulfil his father’s duties and care for them all as his father had done? Try as she might, Florentina could see nothing but dark clouds on the horizon, could feel the icy rain doing all it could to pierce her skin. There was doubt and there was fear and Florentina was afraid that they would never be overcome.
***
One year later.
“Mama?”
Florentina made her way to the stairs and looked down to the hallway, wondering if she might find her mother there. The house seemed to be a little too quiet for the time of day, and a swirl of both nerves and unease immediately settled within her. It was a sensation that had plagued her for many months now, and try as she might, Florentina could never quite rid herself of it.
“Mama?” Her voice echoed down the staircase and into the hallway, but there came no response. Her brows furrowed as she wondered where her mother might be at this early hour. Her room was empty and she was not in the parlour nor the drawing room. According to the maid, her other sisters were still abed, and Florentina and Lady Haddington were the only ones awake. Was there a chance that Lady Haddington had gone riding? Or had she decided to take an early morning stroll through the gardens? Though it would be most unlike her to do so, there seemed to be no other plausible explanation for her mother’s absence.
A sudden thought sent a jolt of awareness straight through her, pinning her to the spot. Florentina caught her breath, her hand at her heart as she fought for the next breath, gasping a little as she did so. She bent over slightly, forcing herself to breathe more slowly as she fought the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.
It was a year to the day since her father had been found dead, having been thrown from his horse. A year without him, of struggling to find their place in life in his absence. A year since her mother had suddenly become a widow, abruptly bereft of the man she had always loved by her side.
Whilst Florentina had always hoped that she would marry a gentleman who cared for her as her father would care for her mother, she now, for the first time, realised the immense pain that accompanied the loss of one so dearly beloved.
Florentina knew she could not fully comprehend the depths of such grief, the agony of such a parting, for she had never experienced the kind of deep and unrelenting love that binds two souls together. And yet, she longed to find such a love within her own heart, wanted to bind herself to another in the way that she had seen her parents devote their lives to one another’s happiness and well-being. Even with the eventual parting, even with the grief and heartache that would inevitably follow, Florentina considered it all more than worthwhile.
Closing her eyes tightly, Florentina dragged in one long breath and let it out again with what felt like an agonising slowness. Her heart screamed, begging her to breathe hurriedly, to allow more air into her lungs, but Florentina refused to do so. She had to force herself into a calm state, so that she might allow her thoughts to assemble themselves into an orderly situation. Righting herself, she stood tall and set her shoulders before finally opening her eyes.
I must find her.
Lady Haddington was the only one on Florentina’s mind, just as she had been every single day of this wretched year. Florentina had watched in utter helplessness as her mother sank into a deep and impenetrable melancholy, while the world around them remained forever changed. Try as she might, Florentina had been unable to do anything to aid her and had herself grown weary and sorrowful in her continued failed attempts. It had only been in the last month that Florentina had finally seen a flicker of a smile on her mother’s lips now and again, had begun to see a new light growing in Lady Haddington’s eyes. But now, she feared that even that would be pulled away from her mother again, given that it was now one year since the loss of her husband.
“Where are you, mama?”
Florentina spoke the words aloud as she made her way to the window, looking out over the gardens once more. Her breath frosted the window lightly and she closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the cool glass for a moment as she fought back her fears. It had been a year of great difficulty as the heavy burden of grief and sorrow lingered in each of their hearts. With summer now approaching, Florentina had hoped that the warmth of the sun and the long, beautiful days might lift their hearts, if only a little, easing the tide of pain that had so long dominated their lives. Bearing such a responsibility not only toward her mother but also her sisters, Florentina had seldom found the time to contemplate her own grief or to allow the full measure of her heart’s sorrow to be fully understood—even by herself. It was in moments like these, moments when she stood alone and uncertain, that Florentina began to feel as though she were sinking into a vast, treacherous pit, with no one to pull her free.
“Lady Florentina?”
The gentle voice startled her and she turned around swiftly, a little embarrassed to have been caught standing in such a strange manner.
“If you are seeking Lady Haddington, she is taking a short walk in the rose garden.” The maid kept her head lowered and did not meet Florentina’s gaze, though her voice was quiet yet assured. “There is also a letter for her.”
“A letter?” Florentina shook her head, turning away from the window and making her way toward the front door. “I shall inform her of it when I find her.”
The maid curtsied but, much to Florentina’s surprise, spoke once more.
“Forgive me, my lady, but the letter was brought with great urgency,” she said, as Florentina paused beside her. “I know that Lady Haddington always wished to be informed whenever Lord Haddington wrote, and—”
“My brother has written?” Florentina’s heart leapt in her chest, for Henry had been gone from the estate for three months now and, as yet, they had not heard a word from him. “Are you quite certain?”
The maid nodded. “A man on horseback arrived only an hour ago, my lady,” she said, dropping her head a little more as though afraid Florentina would scold her for not being informed of such an arrival. “The household was still abed—or so we believed—and the letter was placed in Lady Haddington’s parlour.”
A rush of excitement spilled from Florentina’s heart, and she pressed the maid’s shoulder for a moment, before continuing to make her way to the door. “I shall inform Lady Haddington at once,” she promised, her spirits lifted at the thought of hearing from her brother, and praying that her mother would share in her excitement. “The rose garden, did you say?”
Seeing the maid nod, Florentina hurried outside, ignoring the morning chill that had not yet been banished by the bright sunshine.
Her steps were quick and her breathing a little ragged as she moved with all haste towards the rose garden, eager to see her mother. As she walked, her mind filled with memories of all that had transpired on this day a year ago. Her heart ached as she recalled the many happy times spent in the gardens with her father—how he had often walked alongside her through the rose garden itself. Lord Haddington had been a kind and gentle man, although firm in his decisions and unyielding when it came to what he believed was right. The love that he had for his wife had been more than evident and Florentina had never once doubted that he loved each of his children as well, for she had felt that love practically radiating from him every day of his life. There had always been time to listen, time to talk and to laugh. How little laughter there was these days! Now that he was gone, it felt as though he had taken all joy and all happiness with him, leaving them with nothing but a barren, grey world.
We will laugh again, Florentina told herself, finally setting eyes on her mother. One day soon, we will laugh again.
“Mama!”
Lady Haddington turned her head, showing no surprise at Florentina’s presence. Perhaps she had been expecting her to seek her out.
“Florentina, good morning.”
Florentina was a little surprised at the lightness of her mother’s tone. She had expected to hear nothing but sorrow and had thought there would be a heaviness in her mother’s voice or even in her expression but, as Lady Haddington turned to face her, Florentina was all the more astonished to see the gentle smile on Lady Haddington’s face.
“Good morning, mama.” The fears that had tugged at Florentina’s heart when she had first realised the importance of the day immediately began to fade away as she looked into Lady Haddington’s face. “You are quite well?”
Her mother’s smile was tinged with sadness, but after a moment, she nodded. “I am well, Florentina.”
“I—I am glad.”
“You did not expect me to be so, I believe.” One of her mother’s eyebrows lifted gently. “You are aware of the significance of the day.”
Florentina nodded. “I am.”
Her mother said nothing for some moments, holding Florentina’s gaze steadily although a gentle smile still played around the corners of her mouth. A soft breeze stirred around them, and Florentina felt its warmth wrap around her shoulders, comforting her in its own quiet way.
“I have been reflecting on the blessing that your father was to us all, Florentina,” Lady Haddington murmured, finally breaking the silence as she turned her head to admire some of the most beautiful yellow roses. “I am deeply sorrowful over his passing and, indeed, I do not believe I will ever be free of this feeling of loss that now binds my heart. Yet, I have also come to see the importance of considering the good he brought us whilst he was alive.”
Florentina nodded, her throat aching as once more, memories of her father were brought to mind. “I understand, mama.”
“I shall never cease grieving,” Lady Haddington continued, as though she had not heard Florentina’s words. “It will always be with me now, but I will soften the pain by recalling all the wonderful moments I shared with him.” Her smile was brighter than Florentina had seen in many months. “In so doing, I believe a part of him will always remain with me.”
“I am very glad to hear you speak so,” Florentina replied, coming a little closer to her mother and feeling such a relief that it swamped her entirely for a few seconds, leaving her struggling to speak clearly. “I—I thought that….”
“You thought that I would be lost in my despondency and sorrow, as I have been for many months,” Lady Haddington said quietly, as Florentina nodded. “I quite understand, my dear.” Reaching out, she pressed Florentina’s hand. “You have been a great support to me, Florentina. Your sisters have looked to you for guidance and assistance and you have given it without hesitation. I cannot express to you how much I have needed you, nor how deep my gratitude is for all that you have done.”
Dropping Florentina’s hand, she embraced her instead, holding her tightly for a few moments. “But I am resolved to be restored to you all now. It has been a year and you must begin to turn your thoughts toward the future!” Releasing Florentina, she stepped back and met her gaze directly. “It is time to consider London.”
Florentina’s heart dropped to the ground. “London?” she repeated, as Lady Haddington nodded. “Mama, I am not ready!”
“Nonsense,” came the firm reply, as Lady Haddington compelled herself to behave in a manner that, as yet, did not quite sit naturally upon her. “All that is required are a few new gowns and arrangements for our arrival in London. No doubt your brother will be content for us to make use of his townhouse.” Her brow furrowed. “Mayhap that will encourage him to return to this estate, knowing that we have all departed.”
Blinking rapidly, Florentina tried to take in what her mother was saying, trying to accept all that was being told to her and yet struggling to do so without difficulty. She did not wish to venture anywhere near London and into society, not yet at least. She still felt the loss of her father keenly, felt the burden of responsibility of caring for her mother and sisters still weighing heavily upon her shoulders. To go to London and into society—with the clear hope of finding a suitable match—would mean that Florentina would have to set aside such responsibilities entirely!
But mayhap that is what your mother wishes, her heart whispered quietly. She has seen all that you have done, all that you have endured, and now seeks to lift that particular burden from you.
Florentina shook her head against such thoughts—an action her mother did not fail to notice—aware that, as yet, she had not fully worked through her grief. In caring for her mother and her sisters as she had, Florentina had been compelled to set aside her own pain, which she now carried deep within her, awaiting a time when it might finally be released in its entirety. She could not possibly go to London while such a burden weighed upon her soul!
“It will all be well,” Lady Haddington said, gently, evidently seeing the worry on Florentina’s face. “You have given so much, my dear. It is time you were recompensed, I think, and London has much to offer you.” Her smile eased some of Florentina’s fear, leaving her a little less anxious. “Mayhap you will find a suitable gentleman and soon experience the same happiness your father and I shared.”
“I do not think that I will ever be able to find the same joy and love that you and Papa shared, Mama,” Florentina replied, truthfully, as her mother grasped both of her hands tightly. “But I shall be content with something even a fraction of what you had.”
Lady Haddington’s eyes flooded but her smile remained. They stood together for some moments, saying nothing but perfectly content to simply linger for a short time. Things, it seemed, were about to change, and Florentina could not help but pray that her mother might be willing to wait for at least the little Season before insisting that Florentina go to London. Yet, she held out no great hope that it would be so. Her mother was markedly changed from yesterday, now seeming to possess a renewed hope for the future and a resolve that, while she would never forget her dear husband, would carry his memory with her in whatever course she chose to follow next.
“Oh, I quite forgot!” Florentina exclaimed, suddenly. “Mama, my brother has written! There is note for you in the house. It arrived early this morning!”
Lady Haddington’s expression changed at once. Her eyes flared wide and her hands tightened on Florentina’s for just a moment. “Henry has written?” she breathed, her voice very soft indeed as though to speak any louder would frighten the letter away. “Are you quite certain?”
“I am sure of it,” Florentina replied, letting go of her mother’s hands and turning back towards the house. “It has been left for you in the parlour, I believe.” She did not need to ask whether or not her mother wished to read the note at once, for Lady Haddington immediately fell into step beside her and began to walk hurriedly back to the house.
Florentina could understand her urgency for, to not hear a single word from Henry these last few months had been very distressing for them all. She had gone from worrying about his whereabouts to outright anger at his abandonment, and her sympathy for her mother had only deepened, for the distress caused by her son’s absence had added yet another weight to an already burdened soul. Should she learn from this letter that Henry had now an intention of returning to them, then Florentina would immediately begin to prepare what she herself would want to say to him when he came back to the house. She would not hold herself back but would state unequivocally precisely what she thought of her brother’s actions. The new Earl of Haddington he might be, but that did not mean that he was able to command her respect simply because of his title!
Stepping inside, Florentina hesitated for a moment as her mother made her way towards the parlour. She did not want to intrude nor simply expect that her mother would wish her to be present when she read the letter from Henry. “I will be in the dining room, mama,” she said softly, coming to a stop. “You will wish to read your letter alone.”
Her mother opened her mouth as though to argue only to close it again and then smile at her daughter. “I will only be a few minutes,” she said, gently. “Thank you, Florentina.”
Florentina nodded, smiled and took her leave, making her way quickly to the dining room. The room was prepared for their breakfast and Florentina was glad to see another of her sisters now sitting at the table, sipping a cup of tea with a book in her hand.
“Good morning, Christiana,” she said, laughing as her sister jerked visibly, having clearly been lost in whatever it was she was reading. “Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.”
Christiana smiled but her eyes remained fixed on the book. “Good morning, Florentina,” she answered, her hand which held her teacup now halfway between her mouth and the table. “Forgive me, but I am at a most important juncture in this particular novel and I simply cannot…” She trailed off, her brow now furrowing hard as her eyes ate up the words on the page before her. Smiling softly to herself, Florentina lifted the teapot and poured herself a small cup of tea, adding a dash of milk before stirring it carefully. Unable to seat herself, such was her anxiety over the letter from Henry, she made her way to the window and looked out across the grounds.
This place had always been her home and Florentina had grown very fond of it indeed. The many pleasant memories of both her childhood and her formative years had been a great comfort to her over the past year. Her father’s presence still lingered in the house and grounds, and Florentina could not bear to even consider stepping away from it all. Her mother’s talk of London had greatly unsettled her, though she had done her best not to reveal the full extent of it to Lady Haddington. Florentina did not feel ready to depart for London, to leave behind her home and some of her sisters. There was only one reason for her to attend the Season, and that would be solely to find a husband. To do so would separate her from this life forever and bring about so many changes that the very thought of it sent a cold hand grasping at her heart.
She closed her eyes, stirring her tea mechanically as she fought against a great and troublesome anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her, sending a tremor through her frame. To wed would be to begin anew, to leave behind the only life she had ever known, with a new home, a new place, and an uncertain future. It would mean being parted from her sisters and her mother, and perhaps even stealing some of the memories she was so desperate to cling to.
Swallowing hard, Florentina forced herself to take a sip of her tea . In doing so, she felt some of the cold fear lift from her chest. This was something she had always known would be in her future, even before her father’s death. It was expected. She was to marry, to begin a new life with her husband at whatever estate he owned. There would be no more daily communion with her sisters and mother; she would no longer enjoy their constant company.
I am not ready.
The thought was stolen from her as a sudden movement caught her eye. Frowning, Florentina leaned a little closer to the window, only to realise that a horse and rider were approaching the house. They were not coming with any great speed, however, as a messenger might do, but rode at a gentle pace as though the rider wished to make certain of his path.
“Christiana,” she said, slowly. “Might you join me here for a moment?”
There was no response and, frustrated, Florentina twisted her head in her sister’s direction, seeing how Christiana was still intently reading her book. “Christiana!” she exclaimed, making her sister jump in surprise. “Come, please!” She gestured to the window. “There is someone approaching.”
“Coming to the house?” Christiana replied, sounding faintly surprised. “There is probably some note or letter being delivered, that is all.” She set down her book, however and came to join Florentina by the window, scrunching up her eyes as she peered through the glass. “It is much too early for callers!”
“I do not think it is a messenger,” Florentina replied, feeling a small sense of unease begin to settle over her. “There is no urgency in his riding.”
Christiana shrugged. “Mayhap it is a lazy messenger.”
Despite her worry, Florentina could not help but laugh, throwing a quick glance towards her sister. “Mayhap it is.” She turned back to the window, only to see yet another rider coming after the first, although this one rode at a greater speed as though he wished to catch the other rider. Her brow furrowed. Two messengers? It did not make sense.
The door behind them suddenly flew open, banging back hard against the door and making them both start in surprise. Turning, Florentina was astonished to see her mother framed in the doorway, her hand pressing the door back so that it stayed in place whilst her other hand grasped the letter that Florentina presumed was from Henry.
“Mama?” she heard Christiana say, hearing the slight tremor in her sister’s voice and realising with horror, that Lady Haddington was sheet white. “Mama, whatever is the matter?”
Florentina hurried forward at once as her mother shook her head, wordlessly. Reaching her, Florentina took one arm whilst Christiana took the other, guiding Lady Haddington to a chair so that she might sit down without delay. Uncertain as to what had struck her mother with such an ailment, Florentina bent down beside her and looked up into Lady Haddington’s face, whilst Christiana quickly poured a cup of tea before ringing the bell.
“Mama,” Florentina said, rubbing her mother’s cold hand. “What is the matter?”
Lady Haddington did not speak. Instead, she simply closed her eyes tightly, her breathing ragged and her hand grasping Florentina’s. A single tear escaped from her closed eyes, making its way down her cheek until it dripped from her chin. Florentina shared a look with her sister, feeling her heart pounding with fright as she struggled to comprehend what was going on. Her mother was yet to say a single word and Florentina did not have even the smallest notion as to what to do. She wanted to comfort her mother but, in having no awareness as to what the difficulty was, could do nothing but wait.
“Mama,” Christiana said, softly, bending down so that she too was looking up into her mother’s face. “Tell us, what has caused you such distress? Are you unwell?”
Lady Haddington shook her head, drawing in such a tight breath that it rasped hoarsely. When she let her breath out, it was half a sob, half a cry and, as she did so, she handed Florentina the letter.
Florentina grasped it, smoothing it out quickly as her eyes sought to find the first line. Her heart hammered furiously, her eyes a little blurred as the fear that Henry too had met an untimely end began to course through her.
“‘My dear mother,’” she began to read, that immediate fear disappearing from her heart. “‘There is much I must explain but, in short, there will be a gentleman soon arriving who must be given every consideration. Nothing is to be held back from him, for, in truth, it is he who now has ownership of this manor house.’” Her voice faded away to nothing as she finished reading, the last sentence becoming a barely audible whisper. She could not take in what she had read, hearing her sister gasp aloud whilst her mother began to sob openly.
The house belongs to another?
“How can this be?” she whispered, slowly getting to her feet as she held out the letter before her, trying to read the words once more as though to make quite certain they were exactly as she had said aloud. “The house belongs to someone new? That cannot…” Closing her eyes tightly, she shook her head, feeling a trembling take a hold of her frame. “Henry cannot have given the manor house to another, Mama! He simply cannot have done!”
“It seems he has,” her sister whispered, also getting to her feet and holding out her hand for the letter as though she too wanted to make quite certain that everything Florentina had read was exactly as Henry had written it. “Oh, what will become of us now?”
Florentina handed the letter to her sister and then bent down once more to take her mother’s hand. Shock was coursing through her veins, leaving her feeling cold and unsteady. “Mama,” she said, softly. “What are we to do?” She had no doubt that one of the riders she had seen was the new owner of Haddington house and that, within only a few minutes, he would be announced into their presence. They had to find some strength of both mind and body so that they could present a strong countenance to this as yet unknown gentleman.
Lady Haddington said nothing and there was an emptiness in her eyes that sent a chill down Florentina’s spine. Clearly, her mother was at a loss as to what they ought to do, leaving Florentina feeling utterly lost. She wanted to tear up the letter and declare that they were quite safe and that nothing was amiss, but in truth, she knew that she could not. Nothing would take back what Henry had done. It seemed that, despite her hope that Henry would take care of them, despite the trust that both she and her sisters had placed in their brother, he had broken their trust in the worst possible way.
They were strangers in their own home. They might be turned from it whenever this gentleman chose; and where would they go then? There was the Dower house, but she could not even be certain that her brother had not given that away also! Fear and dread plunged deep into Florentina’s heart and she closed her eyes, struggling to find even a modicum of calm to which she might cling.
The door opened and the butler’s voice carried towards them, his words quiet and seeming to come from far away. Florentina let out a shuddering breath and forced herself to her feet.
He had come.
Chapter Two
“It is a pleasant situation, certainly.”
Samuel looked up at the manor house, taking in the large windows, the stonework and the pillars that seemed to support the front of the house as it leaned towards them in what he felt to be a welcoming manner. Ivy had made its home on one side of the manor house wall, climbing upwards as though it wished to reach the sky, and the green leaves were a welcome contrast to the otherwise grey and brown colours of the house. The sun shone through the clouds for a moment, reflecting off the windows and making them gleam, sending a broad smile across his face.
“I think I have done marvelously well,” he continued, speaking to his companion who now looked up at the house in much the same manner Samuel had done.
“I do not think this is wise, my friend,” came the reply. “You are already the Duke of Dartmoor and have a great deal of wealth! Why then should you seek to take this away from Lord Haddington?”
Samuel sniffed, ignoring his friend’s concern. “It is hardly my fault that Lord Haddington would not heed advice and cease his gambling,” he replied, shrugging. “He was much too in his cups, I admit, but why should I let his poor decisions affect my potential happiness?” He laughed aloud but his companion, the Marquess of Crawley, did not join in. Instead, only a wry smile tugged at his lips. It was clear to Samuel that Lord Crawley had conflicting emotions as regarded the situation at present but Samuel did not care. He was the one who had won the manor house from a very drunk Lord Haddington and, given that he cared very little for the thoughts and feelings of others, he did not even consider what Lord Haddington might now feel.
“He has his title still, that is good enough.” Sending a sly grin towards his friend, he lifted his shoulders. “The staff may not yet know of the change in circumstances, and I am unsure what to say or do if they haven’t been informed! Let us hope we shall be welcomed.”
His friend did not smile. “It is not likely that they will simply accept your word,” he agreed, as they both began to make their way towards the house, still astride their horses. “Mayhap you ought merely to state that you are here at the behest of Lord Haddington and that he will shortly be returning to the estate as well.”
At this, Samuel nodded. “A wise consideration,” he agreed, “but mayhap I shall just tell them quite frankly that I now own this particular manor house and that they are required to obey me just as they did Lord Haddington.” He grinned back at Lord Crawley, betraying once more the lack of willingness to even consider what anyone else might offer by way of advice. “Lord Haddington is only two days behind us so it will not be long before he is able to state outright that all I have said is quite true.”
Lord Crawley said nothing, but gently pulling on the reins, brought his horse to a stop. Jumping down, he looked up at the large wooden door that was the front entrance, finding it a little imposing but still very pleasing. Samuel did the same, letting a small smile touch his lips as he took in the house. It was very large and very pleasing, he concurred. He had to hope that there would be just the same pleasure within the house, that there would be no parts of the manor house requiring repair or the like. That would be a frustration in its own way.
“My lord?”
A small, slightly wizened man appeared, having moved soundlessly across the gravel path and, given his quiet approach, startling Samuel a little.
“Might I take your horse, my lord?” the man asked again, keeping his eyes downcast. “And yours also?”
Clearing his throat, Samuel relinquished the reins easily enough, practically throwing them at the older man who caught them with more deftness than he had expected. Lord Crawley, on the other hand, offered his to the fellow with a good deal more care, glancing up at the front door again before returning his attention to the stable hand.
“What staff does Lord Haddington keep?” he asked, as the fellow inclined his head in deference. “Is it a full complement?”
“To be sure, my lord,” came the reply.
This brought a frown to Samuel’s face, glancing to his friend. “Even when he has been away from his estate for a good many months?” he asked, as the old man dared a glance up towards him and then to Lord Crawley. “Surely there is no need for so many staff when the master is away?” He frowned and then rolled his eyes in Lord Crawley’s direction. “They will have grown complacent, I fear!”
A slight frown crossed the older man’s face as he glanced from Lord Crawley to Samuel and then back again, before tilting his head just a little, seeming now to be filled with a little more confidence. “I do not mean to contradict you, my lord, but the staff are working just as diligently as ever,” he replied, his frown increasing all the more. “There is simply not as much to be done as there once was, with only her ladyship and her daughters still at home.”
Samuel suddenly went very still, feeling a coldness wash all through him. He blinked rapidly in an attempt to disperse it, clearing his throat gruffly as he did so. Looking at his friend, he saw Lord Crawley staring back at the old man, his face a little pale. There was no smile emblazoned on his face nor even a hint of mirth flickering in his eyes.
It seemed Lord Haddington had forgotten to mention that he had dependents.
Trying to take a hold of himself, Samuel closed his eyes briefly and then opened them, looking directly at the old man. “Do you mean to say,” he began, his voice a little hoarse, “that Lady Haddington, wife to the late Lord Haddington, still resides here?”
The old man nodded, shrugging his shoulders as he did so. “But of course,” he replied, as though this was something that Lord Crawley ought to have known. “Where else would she be?”
“The Dower house?” Samuel retorted, explosively. He threw up his hands, shaking his head furiously, sweat now breaking out across his forehead. “I would have thought the dowager might have retired there, now that her son is the new Earl!”
It was not the old man who contradicted Samuel this time, however. Lord Crawley, his brow furrowed, gestured to him. “Come now, Dartmoor,” he said, slowly. “You know that a lady of the ton would not consider retiring to a Dower house until her son is wed and a new mistress arrives to take over the house. Before then, she has every right to remain in her home, particularly if there are daughters or other sons still present also.” Wincing at the furious glare Samuel sent in his direction, Lord Crawley spread out his hands wide. “I speak only what I know, Dartmoor,” he finished, clearly trying to speak as calmly as possible and not fuel Samuel’s obvious upset and anger. “Lord Haddington was not as transparent with you as he ought to have been.”
Samuel squeezed his eyes closed; his face screwed up tight as he groaned. Opening them, he saw how the man holding the horses now looked at him curiously, no trace of the deference that had been in his expression only a few minutes ago. Trying to find the words to berate the fellow, Samuel let his gaze travel up towards the front door of the house once more, his chest tight and all hint of pleasure and happiness gone. There was, it seemed, company already waiting for them. Did they know of what Lord Haddington had done? Samuel’s stomach tightened.
“Surely you will not seek to force Lady Haddington from the home she has lived in for decades alongside her husband?”
A dart of anger pierced Samuel’s heart as he looked at his friend. “What else would you have me do? I have ownership of this manor house!”
“And yet, you do not need it,” his friend said, much too gently and considerately for Samuel’s liking. “You have an estate all of your own already, with a vast fortune and far too many horses. Why should you want more?”
Samuel did not answer. His friend already knew the reason. Samuel’s late father had enjoyed a disgraceful reputation and, in his latter years, spending far too much of the family fortune—and Samuel had been mortified by the shame brought to the family name. Now that he bore the title, his only enjoyment in life was to garner as much as he could for himself and thereby make it quite clear to the ton that he had brought himself back up to a higher standing than his father had ever claimed.
The ton did not appear to care for this determination, however, for they called him various things under their breath. He had already heard the whispers and the rumours about him. He had been called selfish, arrogant, prideful… various words which had burned hard in his chest but which he had refused to permit enter his heart. Society considered him grasping and even deceitful, for he had acquired what he wanted through various means, not all of them proper or correct. But Samuel did not care. All he desired was to make himself the richest, most admired gentleman in all of London—and, if possible, all of England—while salvaging his family’s reputation. Gaining this manor house was but one way to achieve that.
Though not if there are those still living in it.
Grimacing and, at the same time, ignoring his friend’s question, Samuel gestured to the old man. “How many daughters does Lady Haddington have?” He heard his voice was tight and strained, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the older man, as though he were personally responsible for this situation.
“She has three, my lord,” came the reply, as the man turned to now pull the horses away. “I will make sure your horses are—”
“Are any of them out?” Lord Crawley interrupted, holding out one hand to prevent the fellow from walking away. “Are any of them due to be wed?”
The old man glanced back and then shook his head. “None, my lord,” he replied, gesturing to the manor house. “They are all still here.”
Samuel, his eyes still narrowed and his shoulders lifting like hackles, threw out both hands as though the small, old man could help him. “This is deeply upsetting. Whatever am I meant to do?”
The man did not so much as pause in his steps. Instead, he continued on, leading the horses away until, finally, Samuel and Lord Crawley stood in silence, staring after him.
“How dare he do such a thing?” The words were sharp and staccato, hurled towards the house as though it itself were the enemy. “This is mine now.”
“That may be so but you must be… ”
“Do not tell me what I must do!” Hearing the anger in his voice, Samuel threw a look to his friend who, after a moment, shrugged and looked away. Closing his eyes again for a moment, Samuel let out a slow breath, trying to calm himself just a little. He ought not to have grown angry with his friend, ought not to have spoken over him. Shaking his head, he gestured with one hand towards Lord Crawley. “Forgive me. What were you about to say?”
His friend gestured to the house. “I was going to say that you must be gentle and considerate with those who still reside in the house,” he said, letting his hand fall back to his side. “To my mind, this entire situation is a difficult one and I would encourage you to step back from it.”
That suggestion made Samuel rebel instantly. “It is not I who has been unwise but Lord Haddington who has been foolish! He was the one who lost this house, knowing full well that his mother and sisters still reside here.” Determination and anger mingled as he looked again to the house. “They shall simply have to remove elsewhere.”
“Would that you might be more generous and considerate.”
Samuel did not so much as glance at his friend.
“However, it may be that they have nowhere else to go,” Lord Crawley continued, his voice a little louder now, perhaps angry that Samuel had ignored him. “Might I suggest that insisting on taking possession of the house immediately could make the ton all the more disinclined towards you? Might have society reject you?”
Samuel frowned.
“You must be cautious,” Lord Crawley continued, quickly. “If there are three daughters as has just been stated—as well as Lord Haddington’s own mother, then you are about to enter a house where four ladies shall all be greatly perturbed at your arrival. Their own reputations will already be damaged because of what Lord Haddington has done, and I suspect they will feel a great deal of distress.”
At this, Samuel closed his eyes and let out a furious harrumph. “This is not at all what I expected,” he complained, his hands going to his waist. “I wanted to come here, walk through my house and marvel in its glory, for despite the fact I have a very grand estate, this one is also quite superb.”
“You are the Duke of Dartmoor,” his friend reminded him, signing a little as though Samuel was irritating him in some way. “You have an excellent situation already. Truth be told, I do not know why you cannot simply be generous and state that Lord Haddington can keep his manor house and instead, pay you back in coin when he is able.”
Samuel threw up his hands. “Because he might never be able!” he exclaimed, as though his friend were being quite foolish on purpose. “And I am a gentleman of determination, I will take what is mine. That is the way of things.” He nodded firmly but inwardly felt himself concerned. I know I cannot simply walk into this house and declare it my own, not when Lady Haddington and her daughters are still living here. Shaking his head to himself, Samuel cleared his throat, put his hands behind his back, and waited for his friend to look at him. “I can see that you are a little frustrated with me.”
“I am concerned.”
“I see that and I appreciate it.”
“For them.” Lord Crawley rolled his eyes. “Not for you.”
“Ah.” Samuel cleared his throat, a little abashed. “It matters not for I know what I shall do.” His head lifted as a spark flashed in his chest, determined now. “I shall show generosity. I shall declare that this manor house is still my own, but that I have every intention of allowing Lady Haddington and her daughters to remain here for a short while until further arrangements can be made. Some of them must be old enough to wed, surely?” A small smile nudged his lips, feeling himself proud now of the decision he had made. “Another three months perhaps, and I shall be able to reside here. The eldest daughters will marry and Lady Headington can remove to the Dower House, whether her son has married or not.”
The delight Samuel felt at such consideration quickly faded as an obvious heaviness settled on his friend’s shoulders. He frowned but Lord Crawley merely sighed and shrugged.
“I do not think you can be certain that Lady Haddington and her daughters will see this as a generous gesture at all, old chap.”
Gritting his teeth, Samuel threw up his hands. “Then what am I to do?” Seeing his friend open his mouth, he leaned closer. “Aside from stating that I will not claim the house, which is what I know you wish to say.”
Lord Crawley’s shoulders rounded all the more. “My friend, there is no doubt in my mind that the house at present will be in uproar. For you not only to enter but also to give them only a few months residence, as well as to state that the eldest daughters must marry within that time, will only cause more trouble. Yes, Lord Haddington is the one at fault, but I do not think that you will be looked upon favourably either.”
“I do not care.” Frustrated now to the point of anger, Samuel began to climb the steps. “As you have said, Lord Haddington is at fault, not I. I had not expected Lady Haddington and her daughters still to reside in the house, which I shall explain to them.”
“Why ever did I agree to come here?
Ignoring his friend’s muttered utterance, Samuel took in a long breath and then stepped through the now-open front door, handing his hat and gloves to the waiting butler.
“The hallway is excellent.” Samuel cast a quick glance around, taking in the grand staircases on either side, the marble bust in the centre. “Bright, certainly, though I shall not claim it to be as fine as my own. How fine a house it is for me to tell others that I now possess! Will they not think all the better of me now because I own two beautiful, magnificent manor houses? Yes, I shall not go as far as to say that it is just as fine as my own but it is certainly an excellent house.”
“I think you—”
“What is it that you think you are doing here?”
Samuel’s attention was suddenly caught by the presence of a young lady who was quickly descending the stairs, her skirts lifted slightly with both hands, so that she should hurry down towards them without difficulty. He took her in though he did not bow as his friend did, a slight narrowing of his eyes seeking to ascertain who this was who now spoke to them.
“I presume, my lady, that you are one of Lord Haddington’s sisters?” he asked, as Lord Crawley lifted his head from his bow, murmuring a brief introduction as he did so.
“I am.” The young lady clasped her hands in front of her, her shoulders rising slightly. Dark brown hair was pulled back from her face into a simple chignon and her piercing green eyes were narrowed solely in Samuel’s direction. She made no attempts to introduce herself.
I must do what I can to soften the blow. Else, as Lord Crawley states, I will make things a little more difficult.
He cleared his throat, taking a small step closer before dropping into a short bow. “This is most untoward, I know, but might you be willing to introduce yourself to me?”
“Given that you are a stranger who has just entered my mother’s house, I hardly think it appropriate that I should do so,” came the swift reply. “My mother has not the strength at present to come and greet you. Today is, after all, the anniversary of my late father’s passing.”
At this, Samuel closed his eyes, a sweeping heat coming to the very top of his head. Not only was it that Lady Haddington and her daughters were residing in the very house that he sought to claim ownership of, it was also now clear that they had chosen the very worst of days to arrive. “I see. I must offer you my sympathies.” He coughed slightly, searching for words. “Alas, this is a difficult circumstance.”
Lord Crawley shot a glance towards Samuel as he spoke but Samuel ignored it, keeping his attention to the young lady.
“I was unaware of the day and its significance,” he continued, keeping his voice as quiet and as steady as he could. “It may be that your brother has not informed you of the situation which, in itself will be—”
“We have only just received his letter.” The young lady lifted her chin. “My mother is in a great deal of distress and I have come to beg of you to reconsider.”
Samuel blinked in surprise, rather taken aback by the lady’s forthrightness. Despite her hopes, he was not a man inclined towards changing his mind, no matter the circumstances. The young lady might beg, but he would not be moved. Her attempt to regain her family home and her brother’s honour would ultimately be futile for this house was now in his possession, whether she wished to accept that truth or not. “It cannot be so, for I am afraid, young lady, that your brother is solely responsible for the loss of this house.”
“I have read his letter and well understand that.”
“Good.” Samuel lifted his chin a notch. “Then he is the foolish one in all of this and it is upon him that you ought to lay your frustrations.”
“And I am certain that we shall, when we next find him,” came the quiet reply. “But it is also within your capabilities to do such a thing as this; to free us from this devastating circumstance. My mother, as I have just stated, is very distressed indeed. She did not know of this. None of us did.” Spreading her hands, she took a small step closer, her green eyes a little wider now as she searched Samuel’s face. “Might I beg of you to show us a little consideration? Imagine if this was your own mother and your own sisters. What should you do then?”
This had no impact upon Samuel whatsoever and he snorted lightly, shaking his head. “I do not think I should ever be so foolish as to behave as your brother has done,” he stated, studiously ignoring the way that Lord Crawley took a step closer to him, his eyes a little wide in clear disagreement with the path that Samuel had chosen to take.
“That is hardly the point.” The young lady took a step closer to Samuel and he caught a gentle scent of roses in the air. “My brother might well have made foolish decisions and behaved with great impropriety, lacking consideration for his own family. All of these things I will admit to you. However, I must beg you to forget his thoughtlessness in light of the situation you see here. Can you not understand that it is his family that will suffer? Perhaps you were unaware of our presence here when you accepted the bet from my brother, but you know of us now, then does your heart not trouble you as regards our predicament? Surely that in itself will be enough to bring about a change of heart. I am certain that you have your own estate, do you not?”
Samuel drew himself up. “Whether I do or not is besides the point. Your brother has lost a bet and—”
“And you are unwilling to give up your winnings, even though you can see the distress it will cause the great many of us?”
The young lady’s green eyes flashed and Samuel’s stomach twisted. That was the truth of it, he realised. Yes, he might continue on as he was at present, taking ownership and becoming both lord and master over this particular house, but in doing so, he would cause Lady Haddington and her daughters a great deal of distress—distress that might be so severe that it would last for many a year, or even bring Lady Haddington’s head down to the grave. Disliking the thoughts which now pervaded his mind, Samuel turned his gaze away from the lady’s sharp green eyes. “Does this not beg the question as to why the good Lord Haddington was gambling in the first place? Ought he not to have been at home with his mother and sisters? His mourning period will only just be coming to an end, will it not?”
The young lady blinked, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Those are questions that we all wish to ask him, sir. But it does not answer the question I have asked you.”
I do not want to be guilted into doing what I have no desire to do. I won this house in a game of cards and though Lord Haddington could have left the game whenever he pleased, he did not, he reminded himself, staring fixedly at the young lady as though his severe gaze might affect her consideration of him and the questions she was directing towards him. The young lady, however, simply looked back without any hesitation. She did not say a single word, refusing to be drawn into submission by Samuel’s severe gaze.
Samuel rebelled against it all. “No. I shall not give it up.”
Immediately, the young lady sucked in a breath, swaying slightly where she stood with one hand pressed lightly to her stomach.
Ignoring this, Samuel pulled his shoulders back. “I shall, of course, be generous in giving you all some time to vacate the premises, but I shall keep this manor house as my own, simply because it is quite reasonable for me to take my winnings. I am afraid that I have every intention of removing myself here, regardless of your feelings on the matter.” This last part was quite untrue, for Samuel had never once thought about living in this manor house for a prolonged period of time but the lady’s attempts to coerce him appeared to have jolted some new determination into his heart. Now, he would not give up this house for any reason.
With a nod, Samuel folded his arms across his chest. “Now, I shall not take the master bedchamber, as I presume it still contains all of Lord Haddington’s effects, but might you show me to the finest guest bedchamber in the house? And thereafter, might you show my friend to another?”
The young lady did not move. Her gaze remained steady and, after a few moments of silence, she finally found her voice. “I am not a servant here, sir,” she stated, her lips trembling and her cheeks unnaturally pale. “I am Lady Florentina, sister to Lord Haddington and I shall not be showing you anything within this house. Should you require a bedchamber for yourself and your friend, then might I suggest you ring the bell and ask a maid to do such a thing? You have already caused enough injury by your refusal to even consider my request. Pray do not insult me further by expecting me to behave in a manner below my station.”
She did not wait for our response but turned on her heel and marched back up the staircase. Mightily offended, Samuel immediately began to stutter and stammer but Lord Crawley merely looked after her, a look of growing admiration in his expression; and that frustrated Samuel all the more.
“What an ill-mannered creature!” he declared, caring nothing for the fact that his voice rang down the hallway, no doubt reaching the lady’s ears. “One might think that a Duke would be given all manner of consideration but it appears it is not so!”
“I think you were the one who was inconsiderate,” Lord Crawley said, mildly. “Despite all that she faced, her demeanor did not change for even a moment. She remained strong in her stance but quite proper throughout your conversation.”
“You sound as though you admire her.”
Lord Crawley chuckled and Samuel’s heart burned. “In your heart of hearts, you must know that everything she said was quite fair. You must also know that I agree that you ought to be considering matters with a good deal more seriousness, now that you know there are so many ladies residing within these walls.”
Samuel shook his head. “I saw none of that. I think she was naught but impertinent!” His lip curled. “I asked her to do me the smallest favour and she responded to me in that manner? Most impolite!”
Lord Crawley looked away, evidently choosing to stay silent and Samuel’s anger grew stronger. “You think I ought not to have asked her such a thing, do you not?” he stated, his eyes narrowing a little.
“I am not one to lecture others on how they ought to conduct themselves, Dartmoor.” Lord Crawley shrugged his shoulders and began to wander away, perhaps going in search of a maid. “You have done as you see fit. I am not here to judge.”
“But you judge me silently,” Samuel snapped, his anger boiling over towards Lord Crawley himself. “Bear in mind that I have done nothing to encourage this situation. On the evening in question, I made quite certain Lord Haddington truly wished to make such a bet. What else was I to do? Should I have thrown down my cards and refused to accept such an offering?”
“Recall that I was not present that evening,” his friend answered calmly, the quietness of his voice attempting to steal some of the anger away from his Samuel. “This is your situation. I shall attempt to support you in whichever course of action you decide to take though I will make it clear when I do not agree with you. Ah, you there!” Lord Crawley put out one hand, startling a maid who had clearly been attempting to make her way to whichever room she had duties in next without being seen. “Send the butler to us at once.”
The maid stared at him for a moment, then seemed to realise what she was doing, dropped her head and scurried away without making a single sound.
“A great many changes shall have to be made, mark my words,” Samuel exclaimed, shaking one finger in Lord Crawley’s direction as though he were somehow responsible for the problems that were now foisted upon him. “I had thought this house would have been emptied of everything pertaining to Lord Haddington’s family by now—his mother and sisters included! Now, it seems, I am faced with large and unwelcome burden, which Lord Haddington is solely responsible for. His mother and his sisters are not my responsibility and he shall have to make arrangements for them just as soon as he can. This house shall be emptied of all that the Haddington family possess and I shall lay claim to it, as is my right. I shall not be swayed with words nor emotion. Lord Haddington is the one at fault here, not I.”
Samuel, his emotions rattling through him, set his jaw and stood as tall as he could. This was his house now, a house that he had won in a game and was not about to give up simply because it was asked of him. He wanted to be seen in the very best light in all of society, wanted to be known as the richest gentleman in all of England and this was one way to go about it. To have more property meant to earn more respect and consideration from the ton after the disgraceful way his father had behaved in his later years. That admiration and respect was all Samuel required.
The Haddington house was his.
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