Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Southerton Gentlemen's Club, London

"More wine," Mr Christopher Farrington called. A group of acquaintances had gathered around him, sensing he was in a mood to spend.

"You've come into money?" asked one of them.

"I thought you had lost everything. The last we heard, you had the money lender at the door asking for his money."

Christopher went quiet. It may be true, but he didn't like his private financial affairs being common knowledge. It was all Arabella Farrington's fault.

"A minor problem," he said. "All due to my cousin's intransigence."

He sipped the warm, red claret wine from the decanter on the table.

"I've good news from Yarborough, my solicitor," he whined.

He vaguely remembered that his solicitor had told him that under no circumstances should he discuss his case against Lady Arabella Farrington in public.

Why not? Everyone should know what a dreadful mother the chit had turned out to be.

Yarborough tells me the courts are likely to look favourably on my bid for full legal guardianship of my ward. And he has a treasure trove of money. The will was wrong. The fever must have got to my cousin's head.

Indeed, earlier that day in his office, Mr Yarborough had shared the positive messages he was getting from his mole in the court. The judge looked likely to rule in Christopher's favour any day now.

Of course, the latest intelligence from Yorkshire suggested that Henry had got into further danger due to his mother's negligence. He'd been almost killed in a collision with a horse, apparently, while wandering unattended in a forest.

Any day now, his money troubles would be over. He laughed to himself and noticed the others looked at him strangely. Damn them. Fickle friends. Only there for his Malmsey wine.

It might mean Violet didn't leave him. He'd manage without his wife, but it made a difference if she was in residence at Farrington Hall, just in case Lady Arabella Farrington appealed the judgement. Violet had told him that if he didn't return from London with good news, she would leave the next day.

She was finished. Unfit to care for her own child. He hoped she ended up in the poor house or even better, on the streets. That thought made him laugh out loud.

Later, when he was back in his lodgings, he had an idea. He looked around the room, which was all he could afford. The bed was flea-ridden, and he doubted the linen had been changed since the last guest stayed. Never mind. Soon, these days of scrimping and saving would be over.

Yarborough had better come through with a result soon.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. No, too much effort; it would be better to wait. What if Yarborough failed? Surely, he ought to have a second option ready, or he would face total ruin.

Why wait? Why not speed things along a little? He could send a message directly to Yarborough's contact in the North Riding. Hell, he could go there himself and take the boy.

The legal authorization would be due in a few weeks anyway. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced it would be quite appropriate to present the papers sooner rather than later.

He'd sleep on it and decide tomorrow.