“Your mother, is she unharmed?” Morray inquired.
“She is.” He nodded his thanks. “Thankfully, she did not feel threatened either. Of course, it was one more opportunity to see her matchmaking schemes in motion. As soon as I mentioned Miss Honoria Mason’s name, I could practically see the wheels turning.”
“Do be careful! Matchmaking mamas can be fierce when they think they are being deprived of grandbabies.” Baxter guffawed.
“We cannot all be so fortunate as to find a wonderful bride such as you have found with Lady Baxter,” Colin acknowledged with a grin.
“She is a treasure,” Baxter returned, smiling from ear to ear. “She has added an element to my life I never before realized was missing.”
“Still, I plan to delay that step for a goodly while yet,” returned Colin.
“Yes, so have we all said,” chuckled Baxter. “We should return to the business at hand.”
“The man is dangerous. I am not completely sure he has not run mad!” remarked Bergen. “He came at us from the dark, completely unexpected. Had it not been for our instincts and the boy we had hired to watch the horses, he could, at the least, have seriously injured Shefford.”
“One can never underestimate a deranged man,” Morray agreed as he passed a ledger to Shefford. “I paid a visit on a contact whilst on my way to the club. He has just delivered this to me. Look.”
“Whew!” Colin exhaled slowly. “I almost feel sorry for him,” he muttered, turning the pages of the ledger. “He has taken out loans which are now due. Are his properties not prosperous?”
“His father’s wealth was known well. However, the son has not capably managed it. In the few years since his sire’s death, he has, it appears, lost quite a tidy sum. The elder lord expected it. In a highly controversial move, the Dowager Countess maintains control of much of the wealth, as unusual as that may seem. Her husband trusted her business acumen enough that, before his death, he passed much of the ready coin and most important property deeds into her control. I must admit, she has made wise investments through her husband’s former man of business. The banks respect her.”
“I see a couple of notations on one or two deeds, but not the deed to the building I am supposed to now own.” For a moment, Colin felt better about the bargain. “I hope…”
“That the property in question was in his possession,” finished Baxter in a wry voice. “Perhaps. My parents used to remark about the charitable contributions the older Whitton made to support an orphanage and school which occupied that building some years ago. Lady Whitton worked there when the Earl met her. It would not surprise me if they separated it.”
Baxter’s words settled upon him, and Colin felt his shoulders slump. “You are inferring the opposite of what I need to believe. You think she may hold that deed, herself.” In that moment, he tried to imagine what he would say to Jonathan. Thinking the only thing he needed to do was survey the property, he had sent word to Jonathan, almost promising his brother they had the site for the fencing club.
Baxter gave a quick nod in Bergen’s direction. “Morray told me of the fencing club you and your brother wish to build. It holds appeal for me, as well. I would be a willing investor.”
“It was Jonathan’s idea and he will run it. We aspire to honor our father, who was a considerable proponent of fencing. Father encouraged all of us to learn. Although the popularity is not what it once was, the skills can make the difference in life and death.” Colin was rarely without his cane, which concealed a rapier inside. It had been a gift from his father. Ironically, he had not taken it with him on the night Whitton stabbed him. That mistake only reinforced his desire to open the fencing club. “At least this gives me a better idea of my position when I meet with the Countess.”
Morray coughed. “It is a ticklish position. Has she asked to see you?” Morray inquired. “We passed her carriage when we left the school. I assumed she was going to see her granddaughter.”
“Yes. I expect she will send for me. However, I am not sure I can wait. I plan to call upon her when I leave here,” Colin responded.
A knock sounded on the door before it opened and a footman entered, carrying a tray of meats and cheeses.
“Lord Morray, I have a message for you,” the footman said, after setting the tray on a side-table.
“Thank you, Jeffers,” Morray returned, accepting the note and reading it.
The footman bowed and left the room.
“Gentlemen, please do not be shy. Help yourselves to a light meal. We have tea, or can offer something stronger, should you prefer,” Baxter said.
“Tea will do for me,” Morray responded, tucking the note into his pocket.
“I will take tea as well,” Colin added.
Bergen had already poured himself a glass of brandy from the open liquor cabinet.
Colin realized he was hungry. Helping themselves, the four men ate for a few minutes in silence, enjoying the variety of foods in front of them. As he munched on a small selection of meats and cheeses, he thought about what lay ahead of him. He wished circumstances did not dictate a meeting with the Countess, but it could not be avoided. She was reputed to be both witty and sharp, and a decent negotiator. While he feared no meeting, a plaguy feeling told him this was one occasion when he should.
“The note Jeffers delivered is from one of my contacts. Whitton is hiding in his ladybird’s apartment on Baker Street. The woman’s name is Jenny Maven.”
Morray’s words broke through his thoughts.
“She works at the gaming hell where all of this started,” Bergen added. “The woman served drinks and also ruffled his hair while
