CHAPTER NINETEEN

Colin entered the breakfast room and came up short, astonished to see his mother sitting at the table. It was still early, and she usually rose late, particularly after the strain of organizing the ball and hosting her guests late into the night.

He sat down and helped himself to some toast, noting that she was reading the latest scandal sheet, her hands trembling, her face pale.

Finding a duplicate copy of the paper on the table, Colin picked it up and began reading. The article was focused solely on the duke and his legacy. The writer insinuated that Colin was following in his father’s footsteps, hinting at shadowy dealings and questionable character.

Colin wanted to scrunch the paper between his fingers and throw it into the fire but focused instead on his mother’s face. She had laid down her copy and was looking at him grimly. It was one thing to investigate the matter privately, but now, with his name splashed across the papers, Colin felt he was being watched wherever he went.

His mother reached for his hand, and Colin took it, waiting to see what she might say or what she might ask him.

“Your father had many good qualities,” she said simply, “but I believe toward the end of his life, ambition clouded his judgment.” Her thumb stroked across his wrist as her eyes grew sad.

Colin stared at her as the fire crackled in the grate. He could smell the eggs on his plate and the aroma of toast rising from the table, but his appetite had evaporated.

“You knew about the investments.” It was not a question; he had already deduced the answer.

The dowager duchess swallowed. “He did not tell me much, but he spoke of some elements that had not gone the way he had wished.”

Colin withdrew his hand. “Were those the words he used? Because he has lost thousands of pounds. Thousands, Mother.”

She sighed. “I did not know the details.”

“Are you aware of this partner he took on? Do you know who he was?” Colin asked urgently.

“Partner?” she asked, looking bewildered.

“There was a third party, someone he was working with, who appears to have led him down multiple wrong turns that have led to the loss of a great deal of money.”

His mother paled further. “Is the estate secure?”

“It will be. I have taken great pains to secure reliable investments in the last two years, but I do not know how this scandal will affect us.” Colin stood, his anger rising. “I have been shielding this from you in the knowledge that you were not privy to the details of what father was doing. And here I find that you knew all along!”

“Your father was not a perfect man, Colin. He had many failings. He always wanted the best for his family but did not always think things through.”

“He did!” Colin insisted. “Until the last two years, everything was ticking over like clockwork. There were no discrepancies, no sudden investments from unreliable sources. I must find the name of whoever he was working with. The answer to that question holds the key to what has happened here.”

“But we are safe?” his mother asked the worry in her tone evident. “We will survive?”

“For now. But I will not lie to you, Mother. No one does well from being at the head of the scandal sheets.”

Colin sighed heavily, walking to the fire and jabbing at the logs as tears appeared in his mother’s eyes.

“I loved your father, Colin. He was a good man, but he was misguided in some things; I do not deny that. He told me just before his death that things had been difficult, that his plans had not followed the path he hoped for. When you took over the estate, you seemed to have everything in hand. I assumed it had not been as bad as your father had believed.”

Colin scoffed. “I have been looking into this for two years, Mother, it would have been helpful to have your insight sooner.”

“I am sorry, Colin, I did not know.”

Colin picked up the scandal sheet, throwing it into the fire fervently, and turned back to his mother.

“It is no matter. I will get to the bottom of this. If you have any notion of who it was, a name, a meeting you can recall, please tell me. If I can find the person responsible for father’s strange behaviour it may rectify things before they escalate beyond my control.”

“You know your father was very proud of you, in his way.”

Colin stared at his mother, the innocent belief on her face. His father had never given him a word of praise, not in over twenty years. The resentment and anger Colin held toward him had mounted to an irrepressible degree, and he had no interest in forgiveness.

But Mama does not deserve your ire. She was not the cause of it.

“Father did what he could to protect this family, I will always believe that” he finished lamely and moved to leave the room. As he passed her, she gripped his wrist tightly and pulled him back, her eyes urgent.

“He loved you, Colin. I know you do not believe it, and he was a hard man to care for, I know that most of all. But he did. I have never doubted that. He pushed you so hard because he believed in you.”

After a moment’s silence, she slowly let go of him. He paused, looking down at her, and then bent to give her a kiss on the cheek. As he did so the door opened to admit the butler, who announced that Edward had arrived to see him.

A flicker of worry ran up Colin’s spine as he imagined what new nightmare Edward might be bringing to his door. He swiftly left the room, his mother’s words ringing in his ears.

Upon finding Edward in the corridor outside, he took him swiftly into the study. The room was cold, even with the fire crackling merrily in the grate, and Colin eyed his friend warily. Edward’s expression was uncertain.

“Have you seen the paper this morning?” Edward asked.

“I have. Though I did not give it the dignity of my full attention. Someone spread that rumour last night; I am sure of it. Thankfully, my mother was ignorant of it until this morning, or she might not have shown her face.”

He stalked to his desk, his fingers flexing at his sides. Edward approached, sitting opposite him and removing his gloves.

“You have done nothing wrong, Ludlow. This is all a legacy your father has left you with.”

“A legacy for an estate that I now run. I have operated in reliance on his connections and his investments for many years. I cannot imagine there will not be ramifications from all of this.” He shook his head. “Do not trifle with me. I know you must have come here with a purpose; I would ask you to disclose it.”

“I have discovered some letters between Lord Richard Wentworth and your father,” Edward said solemnly. “It appears they had some correspondence for a number of months.” Edward handed him a bundle of papers. “These were disbursed through a variety of documents, so it has taken me some time to compile them. I believe this could represent a significant motivation for Lord Richard to wish to sabotage your father— and, by extension, you . There were some unpleasant exchanges. They appeared to hate one another by the end. He might have worked to ruin him.”

Colin put his head in his hands.

Why does it have to be Lord Wentworth who is the culprit? The one woman in the world I want, and her father is implicated in ruining mine.

***

On the other side of London, Charlotte was writing in her journal.

She had read back through the pages for the past few days, and it was a jumble of thoughts about the duke and her mother. She felt the intricate threads of old lives mixing with the new and old pain, too. It seemed she was destined to repeat the life her mother had lived, and she was just as powerless to prevent it.

As she finished the final line, there was a knock on the door, and a servant announced that she needed to go to see her father.

Sighing heavily, she closed her journal, placed it inside the drawer of her desk and locked it. As she headed toward the study, she considered whether it would be possible to tell her father everything. Perhaps if she told him what she believed had blossomed between the duke and her, he might relent and allow things to take their course.

She opened the door of the study to the strong smell of cigar smoke. The marquess was sitting at his desk, a decanter of whiskey at his side and several documents strewn across the surface. His eyes were red and glassy, and Charlotte‘s worry increased the minute she stepped into the room.

He indicated the seat in front of him, his expression tired and drawn. For a few minutes, they sat in silence together. The marquess poured himself another whiskey and stared into space as his eyes glazed over.

Then, finally, he began to speak.

“Charlotte, I wish there were a gentler way to say this… but we can no longer afford the luxury of time or idealism. Since your mother’s passing, I have done all I can to keep us from the brink, but... our estate is in a precarious position."

Charlotte frowned. “I thought... I thought we were managing, Father. I knew times were difficult, but not so desperate.”

“For too long, I've kept the worst of it from you. In truth, we are close to ruin. The debts accumulated over the years—your mother’s care, the estates, the expenses to keep up appearances, they have drained us. I am ashamed to say that I have exhausted nearly every avenue available to me.”

Charlotte’s stomach turned over. Her father was looking at her imploringly now. There was none of the bluster, anger, and pompous vanity any longer; this was the face of a desperate man.

I cannot believe it had come to this.

“You believe marriage to Lord Kilby is our only answer?” she asked quietly.

“He is a good man, Charlotte. A dependable man. He has expressed interest and possesses the means to secure our future. I know he may not be the man you dreamed of, but I cannot see another way forward. Not without risking everything.”

“But Father, surely we have time...”

“I would never have chosen this path for you if it were not for the sake of our family’s survival. After everything you gave to your mother in her final years, the months of sacrifice— ”

His voice broke a little. Charlotte stared at him dumbfounded. He had never spoken of this before.

“I wanted to give you time to enjoy the season as every other woman may on her debut. But we have run out of time. This arrangement with Lord Kilby would restore our fortunes. It would protect your future. Please try to understand."

He sighed. “Before your mother passed, I was unable to see to my business affairs for months. Many things fell by the wayside. We have been scraping by for the last few years, but with the return to London and the season, the cost has spiraled. If we do not act, we will feel the pinch in less than a month.”

Charlotte felt numb. She could smell the acrid cigar smoke that filled her lungs making it difficult to breathe.

“Please, Charlotte,” her father begged. “I know that none of this is of your making, but I am asking—finally—for your help.”

Charlotte thought of the duke’s bright green eyes, the way they softened when he was amused. She thought of how kind he had been to her from the beginning, how understanding he was of her situation, even when she did not tell him everything. They shared a kindred spirit, a connection that she could feel even now.

The fragile webs we weave.

Charlotte stared at her father, picturing that thread in her mind, and with an effort greater than she had ever known, she severed it forever.

“Yes, Papa. If Kilby makes an offer, I shall accept.”

***

Elizabeth alighted from her carriage and knocked on the door. The butler answered and informed her that Colin was in his study. She made her way there as quickly as she could, fearful of what she might find.

She opened the door to a sea of paper. Colin sat in the centre, a reading glass in his hand as he squinted at some tiny handwriting on the pages before him. He had not heard her or was too preoccupied to pay her any mind, and Elizabeth knocked loudly on the door.

Colin looked up, his eyes taking a few seconds to focus before he rose to his feet abruptly.

“Lizzie,” he came forward, kicking documents out of the way as he did so. “What are you doing here? Please. Sit.”

He walked to the chair in front of his desk and moved all of the papers onto the floor that were sat upon it. She had never seen such a number of documents as these, and it looked as though Colin had read every single one.

She took a seat as he did the same, heavy circles below his eyes and a paleness to his skin that was rather alarming.

“I wanted to find out if you were well. I have read the scandal sheets this morning. It is more than any man can bear.”

Colin shook his head. “I did not expect things to escalate so quickly. I only heard talk of it last night, and suddenly it seems to be everywhere.”

Elizabeth hesitated, loathe to add to his burdens but desperate to know what happened. “Is any of it true?”

She held her breath as Colin sighed. “All of it is true, Lizzie, I am sorry to say. Not quite the slander they are printing about him openly lying to his investors, but my father was in a sorry state when he died. I did not discover the truth until some time after his death. The funeral, and all the arrangements for the entail took months to organise. It has taken me the best part of a year to get to where I am, and I am still uncertain where the truth lies.”

“And what have you discovered?”

“That my father was in debt. A lot of debt. I have managed as much as I can, and we are not going to be turned out on the street just yet, but I cannot account for many losses or where the money has gone. That is what I am trying to investigate.”

“I see, and do you have your suspicions?”

“I certainly suspect foul play. I cannot imagine my father would suddenly have become so illiterate in business when he had spent years managing the estate without issue. I think someone influenced him, got to him somehow, and filled his mind with grandiose schemes that turned to dust.”

“And you do not know who it was?”

“I do not.”

Elizabeth frowned, looking about her at the papers on the floor. “And where does this leave you ?”

Colin looked up. “What do you mean?”

Elizabeth hesitated, she knew what she had seen the night before. She could not remain silent.

“With Lady Wentworth,” she said softly.

Colin sprang to his feet at those words and began to pace. Elizabeth sat still, watching the colour return to his face. The line of his steps was a well-trodden path. He must have been pacing half the night.

“There is nothing between Lady Wentworth and myself,” Colin insisted.

“Colin, you are a terrible liar.” He stopped, turning to her in astonishment as Elizabeth looked back at him defiantly. “I saw you last night, and at the bookshop, and Gunter’s and all of the times in between. She cares for you, and you care for her, as plain as day.”

Colin’s mouth opened and closed several times before his shoulders slumped, and he ran his hands through his hair.

“It can come to nothing.”

“Why, because a few rag sheets tell tales about your father? Speak to Lady Wentworth, Colin. You know she is as good as promised to Lord Kilby, and you will lose her forever. I was going to stay silent, but I could not. Not when the chance of happiness is so close.”

Colin took his seat again, a dejected, drawn expression on his face. Elizabeth’s heart went out to him, desperate to shake him and make him see things more clearly.

“Do you really think she cares for me?” he asked, his voice laced with hope.

“Do you honestly doubt it? She is the sweetest woman alive, and she seeks you out at any event. You speak together most animatedly, and she makes you laugh. I have not seen you laugh in an age. Tell her what has occurred; at the very least, she deserves to know the truth.”

“You are right, as ever,” he said softly. “I must find an answer, and then I will speak to her. I cannot expect her to understand when I still do not understand myself.”