He’d emptied Janet’s bank account, so she was out of money, and he’d assumed it would force them to slither home, but it hadn’t.
Gregory was vexing him too—worse than ever. He was convinced the wedding was off for good, so he felt he ought to marry Mrs. Starling. He swore it was his idea, but Samson thought it sounded like a ploy Mrs. Starling had cooked up. When Gregory had first mentioned the prospect, Samson was amazed he hadn’t suffered an apoplexy. He’d been that aghast.
The foul pair was at Grey’s Corner, with Gregory having to hide from creditors. Unfortunately, they’d begun to knock on Samson’s door to ask if Gregory was staying with him, and Samson was receiving demand letters by the hour, where Gregory had signed over chattels and property to which he had no ownership.
With those issues plaguing him, he didn’t have the energy to be polite to Caleb Ralston.
“I’m very busy today,” he said to Ralston, “so what is it you need? Can you be quick about it?”
“No,” the cocky oaf replied. “We should confer in your library. This may require a bit of discussion to get it resolved.”
Samson wished he was strong enough to toss Ralston out bodily, but he couldn’t have. Nor would Ralston’s flock of guards have allowed it.
“I can give you thirty minutes,” Samson said, “but that’s it.”
The rich-looking fellow said to Ralston, “While you’re talking to him, I’ll find Gregory.”
“I’d like to have a word with him before they take him away,” Ralston said.
Samson was so shocked that he was frozen into a stupor, then he physically shook himself and said to the man, “Why must you find Gregory?”
“We’re here to arrest your son as a debtor. These gentlemen”—he flicked a thumb at the vicious group—”will be escorting him to town for trial.”
Samson puffed himself up. “You have some gall to spew such outrageous claims. Who are you, sir?”
Ralston smirked. “Oh, didn’t I introduce him? This is Lucas Watson, Lord Barrett. He’s recently become very interested in Gregory.”
“Who has accused him of being a debtor?” Samson tried to seem stern and upset, as if Gregory had never wasted a penny. “Tell me that—if you can!”
“I accuse him,” Ralston said. “I have dozens of judgments, and I aim to see that he spends many, many years in prison for fraud.”
Samson was worried he might faint. Lord Barrett started up the stairs, all but one of the felons tromping after him. The one who’d lagged behind walked over to stand beside Samson, as if to prevent Samson’s escape. Ralston clasped Samson’s arm and marched down the hall toward the library. The clerks traipsed after them, the felon too.
Samson recovered his wits and struggled to squirm away, but Ralston tightened his grip and kept on. They entered the room, and Ralston flung Samson onto a chair, then seated himself at the desk—as if it and the library belonged to him.
“I won’t tolerate this abuse,” Samson blustered.
Ralston ignored him and told the clerks, “Search every drawer and ledger. Confiscate it all—even if you’re not sure it applies. Pack it and take it.”
Samson rose to his feet, and Ralston shouted, “Sit down, Mr. Grey!”
The criminal put a hand on Samson’s shoulder and pushed until Samson slunk down like a whipped dog.
“I’ll be brief,” Ralston said. “Your daughter, Janet, has wed my brother, Blake.”
“What?” It was the last topic Samson had expected Ralston to address, and it was such an odd comment that he was certain he’d misheard.
“She’s been misbehaving with him in London. I guess they pursued an amour while he was here, and when he left, she followed him to town.”
“I can’t believe it!”
“Believe it. It’s over and done.”
“She’s only twenty. She can’t have proceeded without my permission.”
“We couldn’t wait. I’m not positive, but it’s likely she’s increasing.”
Samson felt as if he’d been pole-axed. For the remainder of his life, he’d be connected to the Ralston brothers by Janet’s marriage. It was enough to make him want to weep like a baby.
Ralston continued speaking. “Blake is posted to the Mediterranean, and he’s based out of Gibraltar. She’ll join him there in a few weeks. There’s a ship for navy wives that goes back and forth regularly. She’ll be on it.”
“Will I. . . I. . . have a chance to talk to her before she sails?”
“No. She’s not interested in talking to you, and I wouldn’t let her anyway. She’s my sister-in-law, and I am declaring her to be under my protection now.”
“Bastard,” Samson muttered.
“Yes, I definitely can be.”
“I don’t agree to any of this.”
“I don’t care.”
One of the clerks bustled over and said, “Look at this document, Mr. Ralston. It spells it out in plain English.”
Ralston scanned the papers, then said, “Good work. See what other evidence he’s stashed away.”
Samson leapt up so he could peek at what Ralston had perused, but he’d forgotten the thug was lurking behind him. The man grabbed Samson by his coat and yanked him down so hard that his teeth clacked together.
He bent down and warned, “If you stand up again, I’ll beat you bloody.”
Samson was quite afraid, and he wondered where Gregory was. Why hadn’t he raced down to investigate what was occurring? Samson deemed it perfectly typical that, the moment Samson needed his son, the slothful boy would vanish.
“After her wedding,” Ralston said, “Janet showed me the strangest letter from a lawyer. She’d been trying to wrest control of her trust fund from you, and she was stunned to discover that she’s never had one.”
Samson lied with aplomb. “If that’s what she told you, then she’s gravely mistaken. Or she’s confused for some reason I can’t fathom.”
“Her lawyer advises that your family has only ever had one trust fund, and the name conveniently happens to be, The Caroline Grey Mining Trust.” Ralston stood and braced his palms on the desktop. He leaned toward Samson, his glare ferocious. “Would you like to explain that situation to me?”
“No, I would not. My finances are none of your business.”
“First of all, nothing in this
