“I think ’e’s already got one big sister. ’e won’t be needing another.”
“Surely you cannot deny that marriage to the right woman might go a long way toward settling him down!”
“Oh, I’ll not deny that. But I never ’eard of any young man accustomed to a game pullet like La Fantasia suddenly brought to ’eel by a sensible female ’oo’s practically on the shelf.”
“All right, then,” retorted Lady Helen, stung, “what sort of woman do you think would suit him?”
He considered the question for a long moment before answering. “One ’oo’ll make ’im want to be a man.”
She gave a little huff of derision. “I thought that’s what women like La Fantasia were for.”
“I don’t doubt she makes ’im feel like one,” he said, laying aside his serviette and rising from the table. “ ’eaven knows she ought to, if ’e’s paying ’er even a fraction of what rumor claims she charges. But I’m talking about a girl ’oo’ll make ’im want to be one—the less pleasant parts included.”
“Oh?” she asked coyly, giving him her hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet. “And what parts might those be?”
“Tending to responsibilities when ’e’d rather concentrate on pleasures, for one thing. I wish you were going with me, love,” he added in a wistful tone.
“So do I,” she answered in the same vein. “But we agreed that it would be unwise to take William out until his sore throat is rather better.”
“And I know ’ow much you were looking forward to entertaining a bunch of Whig leaders’ wives to tea,” he retorted playfully.
“Deprived of my life’s ambition,” she agreed, shaking her head mournfully. “I promise, as soon as William is able to travel, I shall join you in London and play the political hostess as enthusiastically as you could wish.”
As his wife came from a long line of Tories, Sir Ethan recognized this as no small sacrifice, and expressed his appreciation so thoroughly that he was still in the act when the footman came to begin clearing the table. Releasing her with a sigh, Sir Ethan nevertheless kept his arm about her waist as she accompanied him to the front door, where the carriage awaited that would convey him to London and the launching of his Parliamentary bid.
“Never mind about your brother, love. I’ll see if I can discover what’s toward.”
With this promise, he kissed her again, expressed his hope that Willie’s recovery would not be long delayed, then climbed into the carriage and settled himself comfortably against the squabs.
“All right, Theodore,” he muttered aloud as the horses were whipped up and the vehicle started forward, “let’s see what devilry you’ve got up to this time.”
4
Submit to the present evil, lest a greater one befall you.
PHAEDRUS, Fables
“HALLO, ETHAN!” EXCLAIMED Theodore, rising from his chair as Sir Ethan Brundy was shown into the drawing room of his flat by his valet, the butler and the other servants having not yet arrived from Reddington Hall. “Deuced cold outside—come have a seat before the fire. Will you have a drop to take the chill off? There’s brandy in the decanter, but if you’d rather have something else—I don’t know exactly what Papa had laid down in his cellars, but I daresay we can find out. As they say, there’s no time like the present.”
Sir Ethan assured him that brandy would suit him very well, then sank into the nearest of two overstuffed armchairs and accepted the pot-bellied glass of brandy from his brother-in-law’s hand.
“Did you only arrive in Town today, then?” Theodore continued. “But where’s Nell? Does she not accompany you?”
If Sir Ethan had not already had reason to suspect something was amiss with the young duke, Theodore’s sudden loquaciousness would have been enough to inform him of it. “No, she’ll be coming later. Willie’s taken ill.”
“Poor little fellow.” Theodore grinned suddenly. “Or should I say ‘poor Nell’? Daresay Willie out of sorts is enough to overset the whole household.”
Sir Ethan swirled the liquid in his glass, then helped himself to a sip. “Now you know what really brings me to London,” he confided with an impish smile. It was not true, of course, but it struck just the right note to induce Theodore to exchange confidences with him.
“I should think so! Willie in a temper is enough to make any man turn tail and run.” In a carefully offhand manner that did not deceive his brother-in-law for a moment, he added, “Truth to tell, Ethan, I’m deuced glad you’re here. I’d be obliged to you if you can advance me something on my inheritance—just enough to tide me over until the will is probated, you know.”
Sir Ethan shook his head. “Much as I’d like to oblige you, I can’t.”
“You can’t? But—well, but dash it, Ethan! You’re the executor, aren’t you?”
“Aye, I am.”
“Well, then—”
“Theodore, all that means is that I’m charged with making sure the terms of your father’s will are carried out the way ’e intended—and that includes seeing to it that everything is done open and aboveboard.”
“But it’s my own money, dash it!” Theodore protested.
Sir Ethan nodded. “Aye, and you’ll get it, all in good time.”
“Good time for you, maybe!”
“Aye, and for you. After all, you’d not like it if I started doling out legacies to your father’s valet, or housekeeper, or butler, would you?”
“No, but—”
“But the money’s rightfully theirs,” he added with a look of bland innocence in his brown eyes. “It says so in the will.”
“It’s not at all the same thing!”
“It is so far as the law is concerned. If I were to distribute so much as a farthing from your father’s estate before probate is granted, I’d open
