“Thank you,” Colin replied, “I think I have had enough excitement for one evening.”
“Thank you again, your Grace;” Lord Kilby said once more. “I am in your debt.”
Lord Kilby took his leave as Colin and Edward went down to the carriage, but as Colin climbed inside, something was nagging at the back of his mind that he could not shake. He had heard Kilby’s name or seen it somewhere recently. He could not think where, but it bothered him. Lord Kilby was very well connected and attended many of the same events as Colin, but they had never had much occasion to speak before today.
Colin felt as though he was standing on the edge of something significant, like a half-forgotten memory, but when he tried to grasp it, it was like trying to catch smoke. He had a feeling that the memory was not a pleasant one.
***
As Colin and Edward left their club, another carriage was on its way to London, but a gloomier party there had never been.
Charlotte sat opposite her father, flanked by Sarah, and stared sullenly out of the window as the countryside changed from green to brown and finally to the black smoke and towering buildings of the city.
Charlotte hated London. She was convinced spending time in this city had caused her mother to fall ill, and she was far happier with movement around her. London was all stillness, stone, and haste. She wanted the green of a hillside and leisure to write her poems.
Her father was also staring out of the window at the other side of the carriage and had barely spoken a word since they set off. Sarah had attempted light conversation for a little time, but the Marquess had been in no mood to entertain it.
Charlotte longed to write in her journal. It rested beneath her gloved hands on her lap, and she could already think of thousands of words to fill it with. She felt like she was in a race against time to get all of her creative thoughts down on paper, before they were stifled by the sprawling city.
The carriage ambled on, the dirt roads turning to the mud and filth of the streets. Charlotte could smell the stench of too many people packed into the confines of too small a space. She clutched her journal more tightly to her, her one anchor amidst a storm of emotions she could give no voice to.
The city grew larger in her vision as the country disappeared behind. Everything was going to change now, and the grief and solitude she had clung to would have to be brushed aside. She was here for the end of the season, and her father had made it very clear that she would do her duty and find a husband in the fray.
CHAPTER THREE
Colin stood before the fire in his study, uncertain what course to take next.
In his hand, he held an import agreement that bore his father’s signature. The details of it had confused him to such a degree that he was now paralyzed by indecision. His father had made a series of transactions relating to exotic imports—luxuries like silks, rare spices, and even delicate porcelain items from the Orient. Many of the goods had a high yield but were also incredibly unpredictable, subject to demand and the risks of long journeys across the sea.
The duke had agreed to import the items on consignment, taking on liability without guaranteed returns. It was a substantial risk and entirely at odds with the man he knew. His father had once told him that speculation was for fools. He had always made tangible investments in stable commodities such as grain or timber. The document in his hand contradicted everything he thought he knew of his father’s nature.
When he was eighteen the late duke had sat him down and proudly explained the family business to him. Little by little, he had given his son more responsibility over the years, but now that Colin was in control, he realized just how much his father had concealed. Whether the duke felt it was not Colin’s place to know or simply did not think to tell him, Colin wasn’t sure.
Or he was in such a terrible position he could not explain it to me because he was too ashamed to do so.
That thought had been running around his head all day. The idea that his father had left the estate in rack and ruin made his stomach clench unpleasantly. But Colin was determined to discover the truth. If nothing else, he had to understand if things were salvageable. So far, he had plenty of evidence of hasty orfoolish decisions, but they alone would not destroy a fortune overnight.
He started violently as the door to his study opened, his mother striding into the room without knocking.
“Why are you still working?” she asked, her tone making Colin’s teeth clench tightly together. “You have not got long. You promised you would attend Lady Constance’s event this evening. Please do not let me down; she is relying on you.”
Colin hastily folded up the agreement and placed it in the drawer of his desk before turning to face his mother and trying to keep his temper in check.
“Emotion has no place in business, boy.”
If his father were standing before him now, he would simply command Colin to find a wife for himself and would expect a result before the night’s end. The late duke had been authoritarian and uncompromising in all areas of his life. Colin did not need his mother to remind him of his duty; he knew it very well.
“There are a few hours until the ball, Mama,” he said, forcing civility into his tone. “I will go and change directly.”
“Good, and I do not wish to see you wearing any of that casual nonsense your friend Lord Hayesworth employs. I want you there as the Duke of Lindenbrook.”
“Iamthe Duke of Lindenbrook.”
“Indeed, yet whenever you enter a room, you try to fade into the shadows. Your father would never have allowed that.”
Colin bit his tongue to prevent himself from shouting.That is simply not true.He wanted to scream at her, and make her realize how much effort he always made at every event he attended.
At the last ball, he had danced no less thanfiveof the seven sets and had a blister on the sole of his foot for a week. It wasbeyond bearing that she would accuse him ofhidingwhen all he had ever done was try to be like his father.
