Matlock,
As you are aware, my granddaughter is engaged to your nephew. I shall be in Town within the next few days and trust you will make time to meet with me as there is a matter of great importance to us both which requires consideration.
I should value your counsel, as the matter is not without lasting consequence.
Granfield
Matlock’s reply arrived the following day, returned by the same messenger. It contained little more than a date three days hence and the suggestion that they meet in Granfield’s study.
The messenger had also carried a brief note ahead to the housekeeper of Talbot House, the London residence bearing the family name bestowed by Granfield’s great-grandfather before the elevation of the earldom more than a century earlier. Granfield arrived there late in the afternoon and found all in readiness. On the day appointed, Lord Matlock was announced and shown into his study.
“Welcome, Matlock,”Granfield said, rising as he entered. “I see you remain as punctual as you were at school.”
“Granfield. It has been some time, yet I suspect we have both improved in different directions.” The reply carried humour, while his gaze remained keen.
Neither man spoke while the butler poured their drinks. When he withdrew and the door closed behind him, the soft click of the latch left them alone.
“Now,” Matlock said, leaning forward slightly, a trace of animation breaking through his usual composure, “this would not concern Richard, would it? You have not discovered some means of bringing him home permanently? His mother would be exceedingly gratified.”
Granfield did not answer at once. He settled back in his chair and regarded the man opposite him before speaking.
“Several months ago, I received word of my son’s death,” he said evenly. “In the aftermath, I secured the Regent’s consent to a special remainder. When my granddaughter marries and bears a son, that child will inherit Granfield, with all that properly pertains to it.”
Matlock’s brows lifted, but he did not interrupt. The arrangement was uncommon; Granfield had anticipated surprise.
“I had once considered your Richard as a match for her,” Granfield continued. “I met him abroad and found him steady and intelligent. But my granddaughter has formed an attachment elsewhere.” A brief pause. “To your nephew.”
Matlock’s expression sharpened. He had known of the engagement, certainly—but not, it seemed, of Granfield’s earlier design.
“They insist it is love,” Granfield added dryly. “I shall not dispute them.”
He rested his hands together, fingertips lightly touching as he considered his next words.
“Had matters arranged themselves differently, I would have sought a barony or other distinction for Richard. It wouldhave been a just acknowledgement of his service—and of a considerable obligation I owe him. Now I must determine whether it is prudent to press for two honours.”
“Two?” Matlock asked quietly.
“Darcy will be father to the next earl,” Granfield replied. “It may be fitting that he stand in some consequence of his own. But I hesitate to advance one petition only to imperil the other.”
For the first time since entering the room, Matlock’s composure shifted. He sat back slowly.
“You would seek an elevation for Darcy,” he said—not as a question, but as a measured assessment, “in addition to one for Richard.”
Granfield did not answer.
“That,” Matlock continued after a moment, “is no small undertaking. Nor one whose success you may assume.” His gaze sharpened slightly. “Darcy’s father refused advancement once before. He raised his son to place little value upon such distinctions. I doubt he would welcome a seat in the Lords—and he may very well decline it. It would not reflect well on either of us if it were refused.”
For several moments, neither man spoke. Each took a measured sip of his brandy, the silence settling comfortably between them.
“Would your granddaughter press him to accept it?” Matlock asked at last.
A faint sound escaped Granfield—half amusement, half disbelief. He set his glass down with deliberate care before replying.
“Not at all. Elizabeth is as likely to refuse it as Darcy. She knows of my title, of course, but she has never lived that life. A month or two in Town might amuse her. I cannot imagine she would relish an obligation to remain there half the year.”
Matlock’s brow rose again. The brandy remained suspended near his lips.
“You thought to match her with Richard?”
