Chapter Thirteen
Graham
“Thirty-five thousand pounds.”Graham’s solicitor, Henry Foulis, slid the bank draft across his desk. “The Somerset property has closed. Want me to have this deposited to your account?”
Graham stared at the number on the draft, not bothering to hide his disappointment. Diana had valued it at forty thousand minimum. “That’s all?”
“The buyer was quite firm, my lord. Given the urgency of your sale—”
“They exploited the opportunity.” Graham tucked the draft into his chest pocket. He’d wanted to order the draft for Rothwell himself and not involve his solicitor, so he might as well take the drafts. “And the Devon property?”
Foulis shifted in his chair. “Ah, yes. There has been…a delay.”
That could not happen. Rothwell expected payment in a matter of days. “What do you mean by a delay?”
“An issue with the funds. The buyer’s solicitor assures me that it will be settled and the property will still transfer ownership as planned. Eighty-five thousand pounds for that one.”
The amount would hardly matter if Graham couldn’t pay Rothwell by his deadline. Graham leaned forward, practically snarling, “How long?”
“They have requested another week.”
Graham gripped the edge of the desk until his knuckles went white. “That’s not possible. The sale must close today.”
“My lord, I understand your urgency, but—”
“You understand nothing.” Graham shot to his feet, sending Foulis’s inkwell rolling. “Do we have any other buyers?”
The solicitor’s face flushed. “That would close today? That is just not possible. You are better off waiting for this matter to settle.”
But he didn’t have the time to wait. Diana’s safety depended on it. He wasn’t certain what he would do, but there had to be something. He was now ten thousand pounds short. But it might as well be one hundred thousand without the sale of the other property. With less than one thousand pounds remaining in his account, he had nothing else.
“Send for me immediately if we hear words of the funds,” Graham commanded and rose from his chair. “And press for the payment to be given.”
He took his leave, slamming the door behind him. Ten thousand pounds. How in the world was he going to come up with ten thousand pounds?
Graham dismissed his carriage, deciding that the walk would better serve him. He racked his brain thinking of anything that he could. Did he have anything else that he could sell quickly?
The bank was just ahead of him and he stopped and leaned against the brick wall of one of the shops, taking his head in his hands. What in the devil was he going to do? There was the account with Diana’s dowry, but he couldn’t use those funds. He had to come up with something else.
He groaned.
“Something troubling you?”
Graham looked up to see the bastard himself, Rothwell, standing before him.
“Nothing that concerns you.” Graham straightened, fighting theurge to plant his fist in the man’s smug face. Again. The bruising from where he hit the man before was still barely visible.
“Oh, but everything concerns me until I receive my payment.” Rothwell’s smile was cold. “You look rather… distressed. Surely your plans to raise my funds are going well?”
Graham said nothing, but Rothwell chuckled as he brushed something off of his shoulder. Of all people to run into on the street, it has to be that blackguard. He started to walk away before he caused a scene.
“Difficulties, perhaps?” Rothwell called out to him, louder than Graham would have liked. “I suppose we could discuss alternative arrangements.”
Graham spun on his heel and came nose to nose with the man. “There will be no alternative arrangements. You’ll have your money.”
“When?”
“When it is due.” He still wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish that, but he still had a couple days and he was going to need them if he had any chance. Or to take Diana and run. Because that option was becoming far more likely with every minute that passed.
