CHAPTER ONE

C HAPTER O NE

Brooks’s Gentlemen’s Club, London, June 1823

A ccompanied by his two best friends, Leo, Duke of Chandos, and Bennet, Earl of Rochford, Charles, the Earl of Stanwood, lounged on one of the red velvet sofas in Brooks’s subscription room. The club was the refuge used mainly by Whigs. Unlike White’s, which was frequented by Tories. Charlie admired the vaulted ceiling and muted blue-green walls. It was a respite from the crowded ballrooms and assembly rooms he’d been subject to all Season. It was also not as empty as his town house on Berkeley Square. Although generally reserved for reading, the subscription room had tables available for gambling. A glass of brandy swung gently from Charlie’s two fingers as he watched a game of whist taking place.

In front of him, between where he and his friends were seated and the table, two other gentlemen stood by watching the play as well.

“I say, is Ognon about to wager his house?” the taller of the two men, Sir Raymond Shields said.

His companion, Lord Westerly, took a pinch of snuff. “I believe he is.”

“I thought he had a sister or cousin living there,” Shields commented.

“I wonder if she comes with the property.” Westerly barked a laugh.

“That would only be worth it if she was comely.” Shields smirked.

Charlie’s grip on his glass tightened. Disgusting rips. How they could call themselves gentlemen was beyond his comprehension.

“She won’t be living there long. Look at the way Ognon is playing,” Westerly said.

Charlie never understood—would never understand—how men who called themselves gentlemen could put their dependents in danger. Especially their female relatives. He placed his glass on the table in front of him.

Rochford laid a hand on Charlie’s arm. “You can’t save everyone.”

“No, but I can save this one.” And he would.

“Stanwood, you don’t gamble.” A sense of urgency entered Rochford’s voice.

Charlie placed his hands on the chair arms. “Simply because I usually do not doesn’t mean I cannot.”

“You have obviously never played whist with his family,” Chandos drawled. “If it hadn’t been for penny stakes, I would have been going to the money lenders.” Charlie rose. “Stanwood, who is that sister of yours who would have bankrupted me?”

“Theo.” He stepped over to the game and glanced at the gentleman acting as the bank. “Be a good fellow and deal me in.”

“I’ll need your note for four thousand quid.”

He took out a small pocketbook, wrote the chit, and handed it to the bank. After shuffling the cards, the man acting as the bank turned to the player on his right to cut the cards. The bank delt the cards and placed three cards face up on the table. Charlie collected his cards, arranged them, and picked one card from those on the table. He studied the number of cards the others took. Seven rounds later, only he and Ognon were left. Charlie laid down his hand. The king, queen, and jack of hearts. He’d won, but that was no surprise. He might not gamble often, but he’d been taught by the best.

The other man threw down his cards. “Damn your luck, Stanwood.”

“Ognon, I’ll take your note for the property and meet with you tomorrow at my house at one o’clock to effect the transfer.” Standing, he executed a short bow. “Gentlemen, have a good evening.”

“I’ll have the balsam by then,” Ognon objected.

“In that case, you should not have made the wager.” Charlie raised his quizzer and focused it on the other man. “No, thank you. You wagered the house, and I find I have a fancy for another property. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ognon’s face turned as white as a ghost’s, then flushed deep red. “As you wish.”

“If that isn’t just like Stanwood,” Sir Raymond said. “Don’t play for the whole Season, then takes the pot.”

“Damn good thing he doesn’t do it regular,” Lord Westerly said with feeling. “None of us would have a feather to fly.”

“Congratulations.” Rochford slapped Charlie’s back as he rejoined his friends.

He folded the note and tucked it into his waistcoat pocket. “I’ll be leaving for Stanwood in a few days if you’d like to join me. The family will be there in about three or four weeks.”

“What are you going to do about the house?” Rochford asked.

“Sign it over to the lady who is living there. She should not again be put in danger of losing her home.”

“She wouldn’t be if you owned it,” Chandos commented as he got to his feet.

“Absent her relative’s behavior, it would never have come into my hands. It will go to her.”

His friend nodded. “As I thought. Do you have any idea where it’s located?”

Charlie had a vague idea. Ognon’s main estate was not more than a day’s ride from Stanwood. “I believe so. I’ll know more tomorrow.”

“I’ll come with you to Stanwood.” Rochford finished his brandy. “I’m getting tired of Town.”

“I’ll join you as well.” Chandos tossed off his wine. “My mistress is becoming a bit too grasping.”

Charlie almost rolled his eyes. The duke was famous for choosing a different mistress every Season and flaunting her. He’d never seen one last until the end. “You can use the time to select a parting gift for her.”

“I’ll send my secretary. I never know what to buy. He does a much better job than I do.”

After collecting their hats and canes from the porter, they stepped onto the pavement. Chandos bid them a good night and strolled toward his house on St. James Square, while Rochford and Charlie continued down St. James Street toward Piccadilly.

* * *

The following afternoon, a soberly dressed man was shown into Charlie’s study at Stanwood House.

His butler bowed. “My lord, Mr. Withers to see you on behalf of Lord Ognon.”

“Mr. Withers, please, have a seat. The first thing I’d like to know is why Ognon isn’t here.”

The man sat in one of the chairs in front of Charlie’s desk. “As to that I do not know, my lord. I arrived at my office this morning to find a missive from Lord Ognon giving me a brief idea of what happened last evening and asking that I attempt to convince you to accept funds in lieu of the property.”

Charlie stifled a sigh. “I joined the game because I wanted the house. Ergo, I will only accept the house.”

The man nodded several times before taking a breath. “As to that, I have never represented his lordship in any property matters. You have his note. And I assume you are aware that the transfer must be properly done.”

Charlie inclined his head. “You will have to gather the particulars from his lordship and return with the transfer legally written.” Withers started to rise and stopped. “May I ask why you wish to have the house?”

Not that it was the solicitor’s business, but Charlie decided to answer his question. “I do not approve of wagering the homes of one’s dependents. I will transfer the house to the lady whose home it is.”

A tight smile, actually more of a grimace, appeared on the other man’s face. “I understand. I will bring you the documents tomorrow if that is convenient for you, my lord.”

“I prefer you take them to my solicitor, Mr. Throckmorton of Throckmorton and Throckmorton. I assume you know of them.”

This time the man rose. “I do, my lord. I wish you a good day.”

Royston, Charlie’s butler, was standing by to show the man out. Charlie leaned back against the chair and tapped a pencil on his desk. Why the devil would Ognon offer the house when he could access the funds? Something wasn’t right.

A knock came on the door and Augusta Carter-Woods, more properly known as Lady Phineas Carter-Woods, his sister by marriage, who along with her husband and small son was living with him, entered. “Phinn and I would like to know when you are planning to quit Town.”

“In just a few days. Do you wish to remain here?” Before Charlie had finished his sentence, he’d seen the relief in her eyes.

“Not at all. We would like to go with you, at least as far as Stanwood.” A frown marred her brow. “I might as well tell you the whole thing.” He waved her to a seat, and she gracefully lowered herself onto it. “We had luncheon with his brother and sister-in-law.” The Marquess and Marchioness of Dorchester. The couple had tried for years to have a son, to no avail. Augusta and Phinn had had a son who was now almost two years old. “Everything was going well until we were getting ready to leave and one of their younger daughters asked when Anthony was going to come live with them. I told them that had not been decided.” She glanced down at her hands. “Indeed, I really had no idea where she had got the idea my son would live with them at all.”

“Did you discover that it has been mentioned to Phinn?”

A decidedly militant look appeared on Augusta’s face. “I did. Apparently, this is not the first time the idea has come up. Can you imagine? His sister-in-law wanted to take him when he was six months old. She had even hired a wet nurse!”

Charlie could see from where the idea sprang. Anthony, after Phinn of course, was heir to the marquisate. However, Charlie had enough trust in Matt Worthington, his eldest sister Grace’s husband, earl, head of their sprawling family, his former guardian, and Augusta’s brother and former guardian, to know he would have had the foresight to add something to the settlement agreements with Dorchester in the event Phinn and Augusta had a son. “Where is Phinn now?”

“With Matt.” Augusta worriedly picked at the fringe of her brightly colored shawl.

“I’d be shocked if he hasn’t already taken care of any problems.”

“Yes.” She nodded, but her lips had formed a thin line. “I would simply feel better if we were out of Town. Aside from that, we plan to go to Scotland this summer to conduct some research.”

“Very well. Be ready to leave in two to three days.” Having traveled with his sister and her husband, Charlie knew she was quite capable of organizing his entire household for the journey.

She glanced from her shawl to him. “I will take care of all the arrangements, shall I?”

One less thing for him to do. “Yes, please.”

Augusta rose. “I’ll see you at dinner if you plan to dine at home.”

Before he could answer she was out of the room. He stared at the door. “I will be here, along with two friends.”

The next afternoon, Throckmorton arrived at Stanwood House. “My lord, this property transfer is most irregular. I do not like it at all.”

Royston arrived with tea, and Charlie poured two cups. That wasn’t surprising. Ognon seemed to be a much looser fish than Charlie had originally thought. “How so?”

“There is no accurate description of the property, only the name and location.”

That was odd. “On the transfer document?” His solicitor nodded. “Is it legal?”

“As it identifies the property it is, but there is no title. As I said, I don’t like it.” Throckmorton sipped his tea. “It is more than that as well. I just cannot put my finger on it.”

“Where is the house?” Charlie hoped he wouldn’t have to travel half the country to go there.

“Not at all far from Stanwood. In fact, the next village over.”

Strange. He didn’t remember Ognon’s lands being so close. “What is the name?”

“Rose Hill, in the village of Liliford.”

Liliford was quite close. In fact, Charlie, as his father and grandfather and so on before him, considered it his to look after. “I’m leaving Town the day after tomorrow. I’ll take the document with me and find out what the status is when I get there.”

His solicitor finished his tea and placed the papers on the desk before rising. “Thank you, my lord. I would appreciate being apprised of what happens.”

“Yes, of course.” He didn’t think the man’s lawyer was any better than Ognon. “I’ll walk you out.”

Throckmorton stood and bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

They reached the hall, and Charlie bid his solicitor farewell. Around him, servants dashed around carrying objects, cleaning, and putting thick coats of wax on wooden surfaces. At some point he’d have to hire more staff to remain in Town. He’d thought to leave it to a wife, but after two years of searching for one, he was still unmarried. He started up the stairs to his chambers. Yet this was not the time to worry about his bachelor state. As Grace always said, things come in their own time and way. He’d see her this evening, along with the rest of the family, for one of their many dinners together. She would already know they were departing Town. In this family, there were no secrets.

A deep bark echoed from the upper floor. Minerva . Augusta’s Great Dane. It was answered by an even deeper one. Apollo . His Dane, who had been born just after Augusta had given birth to Anthony. The pair were fast friends. Anthony and Apollo, that was. Minerva acted like a nurse to both of them. What were the dogs arguing about?

One of the nursemaids came flying down the stairs.

“Why are the dogs barking?”

“Apollo tried to crawl into bed with Master Anthony as he was waking up from his nap, and Minerva made him leave. He’s got too big. Apollo, that is.”

“Thank you.” Perhaps Anthony needed a larger bed. That, then, begged the question of how much longer Augusta and her family would be residing with Charlie.

The maid bobbed a curtsey and continued her journey.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost time to get ready to cross the square to Worthington House for dinner.

When he arrived, he found his entire family present. All his sisters, both by birth and by marriage, their husbands and older children, his nieces and nephews, as well as his cousins by marriage and their children. Even the babies were present. As he was greeting everyone, the nursemaids came for the infants.

He pulled one of his two elder sisters, Charlotte, Marchioness of Kenilworth, aside. “I will need a hostess for the entertainments I must hold when we all gather this summer, and for the neighbors. Will you help me?”

She laid her hand on his arm and smiled. “Of course.” She glanced around the room at their other sisters. “I expect I will have a great deal of assistance.”

“No doubt.” His gaze landed on Theo, Lady Theodora Vivers, age seventeen, and his youngest sister by marriage, who was speaking with Mary, Lady Mary Carpenter, age fourteen, his youngest sister. Theo would be coming out next year and would be glad of the practice. Mary had a few years yet, but she’d assist as well. Even though there was a three-year age difference, they had formed a fast bond even before Grace married Matt. Charlie, as well as his brothers and sisters and Matt’s sisters, had all agreed to be one family. Charlie felt the same sisterly love for Louisa, Augusta, Madeline, and Theo Vivers as he felt for Charlotte, Alice, Eleanor, and Mary. His sisters, with the exception of the two youngest, had wed gentlemen he greatly respected and liked. And in three weeks or so, they would all descend upon Charlie’s main estate, Stanwood Place, for the yearly family gathering.

“I have decided to depart in two days if anyone wishes to travel north with me,” he said to the room in general.

Mary glanced at Theo, who nodded. “We would like to come, if Grace agrees.”

“Yes, of course,” Grace said. “It will give you time with your friends in the area before the rest of us arrive.”

“Phinn, Anthony, and I are departing with Charlie as well,” Augusta said.

Matt, a concerned look on his face, glanced at Phinn and nodded. Charlie would have to speak with Phinn as well to find out what he and Matt had decided to do about any possible problems concerning Anthony.

The butler announced dinner, and Dotty, the Marchioness of Merton, his friend and cousin by marriage, linked her arm with his. “Dom and I will be in the area soon as well. We need to spend time with my parents as well as Madeline and Harry.” Dotty’s brother and his wife, Madeline, Charlie’s sister by marriage.

He grinned to himself. Rochford and Chandos had never been subjected to his whole family at one time. It should be interesting. Actually, Rochford would be fine. Chandos on the other hand . . .