Chapter Seven
Upon leaving the Lyon’s Den, Evan had ridden first to Banbury’s townhouse and told him of the upcoming nuptials, then together they went straight to Dean’s office. His man of business assured them he could pull information together and deliver all he could find by early the next afternoon.
Not known for his trusting nature, Evan stared at the envelope with Dean’s report concerning Baron Langdale. The whole marriage business had stirred his curiosity to take a closer look at everyone involved in this union. Banbury sat across from him in his study as he held the packet and reflected. “Yesterday was the first night in a long time that I failed to attend the Den to drink or play games.”
“I am sure your body and your wallet thank you.” Banbury snorted, then inclined his head toward the packet. “What does it say, Clarendon?” His friend swirled his scotch, then took a long sip.
Evan took his letter opener and ran it along the edge of the packet, then pulled out the documents. “Hmm. This is rather enlightening. I had expected a delay in receiving this, but Dean’s association with Lord Romney’s affairs helped immensely. He had much information at his fingertips.”
“What does it say?” Banbury interjected, sitting up a little straighter.
He read further. “We were right. The baron is spending as much of Romney’s money as he can. It appears checks have been written to his own estate and others to people well-known in the investment arena. These monies could be covering debts he created dabbling with stocks.” He absently rolled the handle of his wax stamp in his hand while he read. “No, it is worse than I thought. Dean traced Langdale’s losses, and it appears the man lost quite a lot of money in the slave trade. I cannot feel sorry for him. Langdale bought part interest in a shipping company known to be heavily involved in slave trading.”
“I say, that sounds unfortunate,” his friend said.
“Indeed. Since the wars have concluded, much of Europe have added their muscle to the enforcement of the Slave Trade Act, and hopefully together, they will put an end to the whole nasty business. Shipping companies such as his are suffering badly.” Evan passed the report to Banbury and leaned back against his desk, folding his arms.
Banbury perused the statement for a few moments. “What do you make of this notation on the bottom of Dean’s report?” He edged closer to his friend, pointing to a post about a visit from Lord Thomas Burton. “That does not seem good to me. The marquess is known for his cruelty and womanizing. I try to never share the same air space with the man.”
“Is he married?” Evan heard himself ask. Something feels wrong here.
“No. There was a widow years ago that he was rumored to be involved with. Some speculated they would marry, but I believe she died suddenly. Tragic, really. There was some scandal about her death, but no one was charged. Let me think.” Banbury sat back in the leather chair and stared at the ceiling before rocking forward and landing his chair on all legs. “Lady Paula James, the widow of Viscount James, who died several years ago,” he said in an excited voice. “I knew if I thought about it a moment, I could recall it.”
“I recollect that, although the details of her death evade me,” Evan murmured. “So, will you stand up for me?” he asked, redirecting the conversation and smiling at his friend. “You have not answered me, and I asked yesterday.” He laughed good naturedly.
“I would be honored.” Banbury watched him. “You are looking forward to this. I can see it, and I am stunned. Three days ago, I would have sworn you would never marry again. Ha! I think I will stay away from the Lyon’s Den. I am not ready to get caught by the parson’s noose.” He guffawed.
“I cannot say I am thrilled about it, no.” Evan took a small sip of the scotch he had been nursing all morning. “But after the week I have had, I can see reason that it could benefit my life at this time. The woman is not Amelia, but she is interesting. And given time, I think we could rub along well.” He spoke thoughtfully, looking at his friend.
“There is nothing that says you cannot find happiness a second time, with another woman. Losing Amelia was dreadful, but this woman is no wilting daisy. You need a woman who can challenge you. My opinion.” Banbury grinned.
“True. However, I am not looking for a great love story here. Just someone to take care of Edward. He arrives the day after tomorrow, and I need to structure a better household to care for the lad.”
In truth, he did not want a marriage of convenience, having known love. But there was little choice. He was not sure if he was ready for a wife, but he needed to find a solution. Mrs. Dove-Lyon had handed him one. A marriage of convenience could be a worthwhile start. He realized he wanted to try to make it more, if possible, and it motivated him to select and send a gift to Charlotte. It was the first time he had thought of her as Charlotte.
“I sent her a wedding gift this morning and am curious as to whether she received it. I had a special messenger deliver it. I disguised the seal with one I think my sister used occasionally.”
“I would never have expected that of you,” his friend said. “I think that was the right thing to have done.”
“Look!” Evan pointed to a paragraph on the next page. “Dean notes that her uncle inquired about her dowry. That makes me suspicious, considering all of this,” he said, rattling the papers and slapping them down on the corner of his desk. “What do you say to an early dinner? I can have Cook pull together a decent
