Chapter 4

4

Half an hour later,Nathaniel dismounted and, with a sinking feeling in his gut, walked his horse out the back of Roxburgh Place. Today was his twenty-ninth birthday, and the final day that would tell him if the will could be overturned and he could finally provide his sisters with the lives they were always supposed to have.

Unlike many houses even in Mayfair, which were row houses, this beautiful mansion stood separately with its own mews, an entire carriage house, stables, and even a small workshop. Also unlike the homes of his neighbors, which were well maintained, almost pristine, Roxburgh Place was in desperate need of repair. The stonework of its classic architecture was crumbling. Window frames had white paint chipping off and falling away. Some of the glass panes were missing or broken, cracks running through like large spiderwebs. He could see the holes in the roof over the three-story building, where his housekeeper-cook-maid used buckets, basins, and pots, if there were any available, to catch dripping water any time it rained or snowed.

As Nathaniel closed the heavy gates, the joyous barking of his three dogs erupted from the mews. Large paws thumped against the ground, growing closer, and then three bodies jumped on him, slamming him into the gates behind him.

Hermes, the stallion he’d won in one of his attempts to salvage his financial situation, neighed and stepped back as the three dogs licked Nathaniel’s face, stinking of hound.

“Hello, boys.” He laughed, turning his head to the side in a futile attempt to avoid Argos’s wet tongue. The black mastiff could almost reach his face, and was leaping higher to make up the distance. “I’m glad to see you, too, but…Argos, you’re going to hurt yourself. And Orion and Cerberus, you two still haven’t learned any manners, either, have you? Sit. Sit.”

Reluctantly, the three dogs let go of him and put their behinds on the ground, watching him, ears upright, tails wriggling, dust rising in small clouds from the cobblestone mews that no servants had swept in months.

Cerberus, although named after the three-headed dog guarding the underworld, as his ability to scent was as good as three regular dogs combined, was the smallest one of the trio, a beagle with one brown ear split in half. Nathaniel had found him dirty, beaten, and shivering, hiding under a carriage on a rainy October day.

The final dog, Orion, was a white mutt—some mix of setter, spaniel, and hound, Nathaniel suspected. He was medium-sized, with a body made lean and agile by the demands of street life and a gorgeous bushy tail. His floppy ears framed a face that was disarmingly expressive, capable of shifting from mischief to longing within moments. When Nathaniel had been invited to the Harmony of Roses annual soirée last year, the dog had somehow wandered right into Lady Brewster’s rose garden full of elegant ladies and gentlemen. He was shooed out of the garden with kicks and yells by the footmen, but something about seeing the poor beast being chased away like that had spoken to Nathaniel.

So he’d left the soirée and taken the mutt in.

Finally, Argos… He had a special bond with Argos. Two years ago, after Nathaniel had stumbled out of Portside where he’d fought a boxing match for money, and won, he sat leaning against the wall of the building, breathing through the pain from various bruises. He’d heard whining, and when he looked up, four thugs had been kicking and yelling at the black mastiff.

“You worthless piece of shit, you were supposed to win! You lost us all money! Why are you so huge when you can’t win!” yelled one of them as he retrieved a wooden plank and hit the dog with all his might. The dog had yelped and fallen unconscious.

Nathaniel had taken him home and nursed him back to health.

These were the three protectors he trained and cared for so that they could guard his sisters while he was away.

It was hard to keep them fed, but he couldn’t let go of the three beasts. He loved them with his whole heart. Hermes was another luxury he couldn’t really afford, and his groom, Joshua, was also the butler, valet, and footman.

“Good boys,” he said as he patted their heads. “Did the girls feed you?”

“Of course we fed them, brother,” said Hazel as she climbed down the stairs from the servants’ entrance at the back. Hazel, the eldest of his sisters, was seventeen, with Mama’s lovely brown hair.

Bustling blond twins, Poppy and Violet, followed their sister. They both resembled him, with their hair like polished gold, the only inheritance they’d received from his wretched, vengeful papa. They were identical twins but were easily distinguished by Violet’s spectacles.

“Where have you been, brother?” demanded Poppy. “Mr. Cadden has been waiting for you for one hour.” She bounced up and down on her heels, with Cerberus bouncing up and down with her, as well.

He was glad Cadden hadn’t left despite Nathaniel being so late because of his blue-eyed, document-stealing fox.

“And then we have your birthday cake!” declared Violet as she picked up a stick and threw it into the opposite corner of the courtyard. All three dogs sprinted after it. “We made it ourselves as Mrs. Nicholson said she didn’t have time to do it as she was busy with dinner.”

Hazel sighed. “She thrust a cookbook into my hands and told us to just bake the cake. But we didn’t have all the ingredients, and I didn’t know if the oven was too hot or not…so it’s slightly burned.”

Nathaniel’s chest tightened. “Thank you, Hazel, I’m sure it’s going to be delicious.” Though Violet had said, “We made it,” he knew the twins had probably hindered more than helped.

What he wanted to say was that she was Lady Hazel, the sister of a duke, and she shouldn’t be cooking at all. She shouldn’t be helping Mrs. Nicholson with washing, cooking, shopping, and housekeeping. All because of his papa’s will, forcing Nathaniel to behave like Papa wanted him to even after he was long dead. Only a man like Papa could control the destiny of several people from beyond the grave.

And today he was nine and twenty, and had only one year to claim his rightful inheritance. He was out of time.

“Let me go and not keep Mr. Cadden waiting for me any longer,” he said. “Hazel, could you please ask Joshua to take care of Hermes?”

“I wanted to be present at your meeting,” said Hazel. “Perhaps he found a solution.”

Violet’s eyes sparkled. “And then we can finally come out!”

Nathaniel sighed deeply. “You aren’t supposed to come out for a while, girls. You are only fifteen.”

“Some come out at fifteen!” declared Poppy.

“But even if we don’t, Hazel should!” said Violet.

Hazel rolled her eyes. “I, for one, do not want to.”

Nor could she with manners like that. It was his fault, once again. With their mama deceased and no money to hire a proper governess. Not that he had even tried.

“I don’t care about coming out,” said Hazel. “I just don’t want you to imprison some rich woman into a marriage she doesn’t want. Like I wouldn’t want to be imprisoned.”

Nathaniel sighed. “Girls, please go and find Joshua. I have to see Mr. Cadden. He has waited long enough. I’ll see you later for dinner.”

He patted the dogs, who had returned with the stick, and climbed the crumbling stone stairs leading up to the servants’ entrance into the mansion. He walked down the long stone hallway, the soles of his shoes echoing off the wooden floor. Several doors lined the corridor, and he saw Mrs. Nicholson through the open door to the kitchen as she stood with her back to him, stirring the stew. The small, latched door next to it was the pantry, and the wider archway opened into the laundry area. There was no hum of activity that underpinned the life of the grand house like Nathaniel remembered from when he had come to the kitchens for a snack as an adolescent.

The aroma of the simple stew reached him. They had been eating stew—and not much else—for years now, as Mrs. Nicholson was not a great cook. But she had done her best to keep them fed after he’d had to let the cook go. The rest of the rooms were quiet, though this part of the house was big enough to accommodate a full staff of at least thirty people.

Nathaniel went through the door leading to the family quarters. The lack of portraiture was evident, stark patches on the walls indicating where majestic oil paintings had once been.

He strode through the grand entrance to the vast chamber that had once hosted elegant dances and high society gatherings. The chandelier hanging high above his head was missing several crystal pendants, their loss casting erratic shadows across the worn floor. The room was completely empty; even the curtains were gone. He remembered how full it used to be when his mama had hosted events here, glittering with light reflected from crystals and mirrors, as well as diamonds, rubies, and sapphires on the guests.

When he entered the drawing room, Mr. Cadden had already stood up, picking up the stack of papers from the tea table. A man in his fifties, he had a balding head of gray hair, small spectacles, and a round belly.

This room felt bare, too, considering its large size. Only a two-seat sofa and a single high-back chair stood there. All three were threadbare, their patterns a ghost of their former vibrancy. On the windows, the absence of velvet drapes allowed the afternoon sunlight to illuminate the room, the dust particles dancing in the golden rays. The place where the pianoforte should have been stood empty. There was no coal in the grate in the fireplace. No table to play cards. No paintings to look at as ladies and gentlemen had tea or read to each other.

Nathaniel could still see how beautiful and dignified this house had been and should be. And he wanted to make it so again, for his sisters. He wanted to be able to dress them in the finest fashions, see them as well treated and as well fed and happy as princesses.

“Ah, Your Grace,” Cadden said, a deep frown pulling down his jowly face. “I didn’t think you’d come. I can’t stay much longer, in any event.”

“I apologize. Something urgent kept me.” His own forgetfulness…and then the gorgeous, infuriating little vixen. “I have your payment.” He went into the pocket of his uniform and retrieved the banknotes, laying them on the tea table in front of Cadden. “Please tell me you have come with good news.”

Cadden gave him a deep sigh and looked at the papers in his hands. “I’m afraid not, sir.”

Nathaniel’s heart sank. “What? Not at all?”

Cadden sighed. “I know how much you wanted this.”

Nathaniel’s stomach dropped into his heels. “You said there was a loophole. You said we could deem my father’s requirements upon his heir illegal.”

Cadden nodded. “I did. But I failed. Your father’s lawyers were very skilled. The will is ironclad.”

Nathaniel cursed. Desperate rage rushed through him in a prickly, white-hot wave. He clenched his fists, itching for a vase or something to smash to hell.

All this money, all the nights when he’d fought in the ring for money, all the rich widows he’d prostituted himself for, all the bets he’d made in rough establishments had been for nothing.

“I could have married someone by now,” Nathaniel rumbled. “I could have fathered an heir. All these years, Cadden, for nothing.”

Cadden nodded. At least he had a decency to look sheepish when he had just basically destroyed Nathaniel’s sisters’ futures. “I understand how frustrating this must be for you, Your Grace. You gave me until your twenty-ninth birthday to resolve this legally and find a way to overturn the will. But please remember, I never guaranteed you that result. You simply must be married and have fathered an heir within one year.”

Nathaniel slumped down onto the sofa, which gave a dangerous creak. He hid his head in his hands, his fingers digging into his long hair. Desperation clenched his whole being in a cold vise.

“The heir must be born within one year,” said Nathaniel. “Which means, I only have three months to find a wife and get her pregnant. Or my sisters and I will be forced to sell this house, the last thing we have of value. My sisters don’t deserve this. They will be destined to live like paupers for the rest of their lives.”

It was like being a thirsty man next to a trough of water and not being able to take one sip.

The money was there.

He just couldn’t touch it.

“It looks like your father achieved what he desired,” said Cadden. “He forced you to marry and have a family. I must confess, I’ve always wondered why you went through such an effort to avoid marriage when it could solve everything. I’m married and have children. Most people are. Why would it be so bad for you, Your Grace?”

Nathaniel’s mind raced to the day that had changed his whole life. The day his mother had died because of him. The day he had realized he couldn’t protect people.

“It would not be bad for me, Cadden,” he said somberly. “It would be bad for them.”