“Thank you for coming, Mr Ryder.” The older gentleman fiddled with a glass paperweight. Finn could see that Grafton was nervous, and he found this tidbit immensely interesting. “I expect you’re wondering why I asked you here.”
“It was not an invitation I anticipated,” Finn allowed.
“How are you getting on, now that you don’t have a war to occupy you?”
Finn was sure Grafton knew how he was earning his living. The man would have inquired about him before contacting him directly. In fact, Finn was now a professional gambler. Finn had always been a shrewd card player, and the gaming hells of London proved a suitable forum to exploit richer players. It was a tenuous existence, though, and he knew he was only one bad game away from ruin. He said, “I am surviving.”
“Surviving,” Grafton repeated, with doubt in his tone. “I see. And have you plans to visit your family for the yuletide season? Will you keep Christmas in Cheshire?”
“I have no plans to do so.” Indeed, Finn wouldn’t think to burden his family with an extra mouth. Poverty had taken hold of the once decently off Ryders, due to illness and a few other unlucky turns. His mother had died in childbirth when he was about fifteen, leaving the family with a motherless baby girl, not to mention all the other siblings. His devastated father was never the same. Finn did all he could to help, but he knew he was a failure as a son.
“If you are not committed for the holidays, I may have a proposition to interest you. You and my son Elliot were friends growing up, and then at school.”
“Well, yes. But we parted ways.” That was an understatement. Elliot Townsend had threatened to run Finn through, without going through the niceties of an actual duel. Finn had done nothing to earn such rage, other than attracting the attention of a young woman Elliot had been rather keen on. Elliot had refused to accept that Finn hadn’t encouraged her. Finn never got the opportunity to explain that the woman had needed no encouragement at all, and in fact had found Finn’s rooms all on her own. Elliot was inconsolable, however, and the friendship was over. Finn left for Portugal with the Army not long afterward, and he assumed Elliot had forgotten he existed.
But here was Elliot’s father, asking for him especially. Lord Grafton cleared his throat, then asked, “Mr Ryder, what would it take for you to make amends with my son?”
“I think you misunderstand, sir. I bear him no ill will at all. He was the one who severed the friendship.”
“So I suspected. Elliot’s always been, well, a bit capricious,” Grafton said. “But the fact is, he needs a friend like you now. No, not like you. You particularly.”
Finn was taken aback by this revelation. “Why should he need me?”
“Frankly, because he’s not very bright.” Grafton sighed. “I feel every fondness for my son that a father should, but I know his shortcomings. Elliot is likely to believe any story he hears. And I cannot in good conscience send him into a den of lions without some kind of protection.”
“What den might that be?”
“Courtship.”
“Oh.” Now Finn guessed where this was going.
“He needs to find a suitable wife,” Grafton said, more vehemently. “Elliot has a fine income and a title. With the Season about to commence after the holidays, certain types of ladies will set traps for him, hoping to capture a prize in marriage.”
“Very likely,” Finn agreed. As far as he could tell, that was essentially why the Season existed. It allowed the upper gentry to hunt for spouses like a lion hunts upon the savannah. “But I can’t physically fight off all such ladies. It’s not the done thing.”
“Certainly not!” Grafton actually barked out a laugh at the image. Then he sobered again. “My thought is that if you were with him, you might sense those traps before he does and ward off the worst of the fortune hunters.”
Finn shook his head. “You’re assuming that Elliot would tolerate my presence. He wouldn’t.”
“I can ensure he would,” Grafton said, more forcefully. “He can’t just linger at his fortepiano all day, writing useless songs. And I would make the ordeal worth your while.” Grafton added, “I assure you, young man, gambling will not continue to fund your needs. One mistake, and you’ll find yourself owing the wrong sort of people.”
Finn was certain Grafton had researched his background and circumstances quite thoroughly. The marquess would know that Finn couldn’t afford to sniff at a possible source of revenue, however small. “What did you have in mind, sir?”
The marquess cleared his throat, having obviously rehearsed this offer. “In exchange for your shepherding Elliot safely through the Season, starting with a house party over Christmas, I will give you a thousand pounds on the day he formally announces his betrothal to a suitable woman.”
Finn took a deep breath. A thousand pounds could keep him going for a long time. He’d learned to live very modestly in the past few years. Still, Grafton’s offer was someday and maybe money. And the Season was months long.
He said, “A generous amount, sir. However, as I would likely go a few hundred pounds in debt just to outfit myself for a London Season, not to mention the funds I’d need to endure it, the arrangement wouldn’t serve my purpose.”
“I’ll cover any reasonable expenses you may incur as to wardrobe and other needs,” Grafton said, glancing at Finn’s clothes with a hint of distaste. “Your initial room and board would of course be gratis, since you would stay with Elliot in the same house during the party.”
Clever, Finn thought. That made the offer even more lucrative. “I understand. But what if I fail despite everything? I wouldn’t ask to be paid for a task I could not complete, but I also don’t wish to be punished for circumstances beyond my control.” He was all too aware that the wrath of a marquess would be impossible to evade.
Grafton smiled thinly, clearly thinking along the same lines. “Then don’t make a mistake, Mr Ryder.”
“As simple as that, sir?” Finn asked wryly. He had to see the thing through, or the marquess would crush him. There was only one way a fight between a rich man and a poor man could end.
The older man nodded, then said, “One more thing. I think it best if Elliot remains unaware of this arrangement between us. You can’t tell him I’m paying you to be his guardian angel. In fact, you must tell no one.”
