Thesolicitor’s office was lined with bookshelves, and a man in a sharp suit sat at a desk in the front room, entering notes into a logbook. The room held a comforting scent of stacks of old paper, worn leatherbound books, and ink, still wet on the tip of the man’s quill. Rich damask wallpaper covered the walls, in tones of navy and gold, offsetting the mahogany furniture perfectly. Heavy silk drapes covered the window, eliminating any brightness from the sun outside and keeping the rooms almost stifling in their warmth. Perry hadn’t set foot in this office in years, since Mr. Winthrop typically visited his father at home when doing business. The lawyer now assisted Beauregard in managing the estate.
“Oh, welcome, welcome, Lord Spencer. We have been waiting for you. I am Mr. Winthrop’s personal secretary, Herbert. Please, follow me.” He was a man of short stature, with his dark hair carefully plastered to his head using some sort of pomade that smelled strongly of herbs.
Perry followed Herbert into a room furnished with a heavy desk, where Mr. Winthrop rose immediately and bowed his head at his arrival. His thick head of wavy gray hair bobbed as he nodded in excitement.
“Lord Spencer, how wonderful it is to see you. I remember the last time we spoke, you were signing contracts for your first marriage. And now, I hear you are happily wed a second time. How very joyful I am to hear of your wedded bliss. Though the wedding was quite unexpected, I am sure I can help you with drawing up the contracts and contacting the bride’s family. One can never be too careful,” the solicitor prattled on.
Perry raised a hand to stop his endless speech. “I’m not here for any marriage contracts. I am here in response to a more pressing issue.”
Mr. Winthrop chuckled as he moved to return to his chair. “Please, have a seat. I am eager to be of any help. Though it will be important to file that wedding paperwork when you are ready. As your family solicitor, I advise…”
Perry put his hand up once again. “Please, let me tell you why I am here. There is someone who would do me harm. I would like access to the files that belonged to my father. Any business dealings that may have gone sour, things like that? There is a price on my head and I must discover who would benefit from my death.”
The solicitor’s head jerked back. “Oh, well, I’m certain your new wife would benefit. Have you investigated her motivations for this rather speedy wedding?” His eyes narrowed as he bobbed his head.
“No. We met and were wed after the first attempt on my life. Do not insult my wife with such theories, or I will cease being your client immediately,” Perry growled, furious at the man’s insinuations. He scowled at the older man, fighting an urge to grab him by the necktie and give him a drubbing. No one knew how much Lottie had sacrificed for him, and he would brook no disparaging of her character. He released a slow breath, attempting to remain calm. It would do nothing for his investigation to start flinging his fists. There had been enough violence in his life already.
Mr. Winthrop gasped, startled. “I meant no offense, my lord; it is simply that when there is no prenuptial agreement, a woman can become very rich indeed. It would not be the first time a rich man was felled with a touch of poison in his soup.”
The solicitor chuckled nervously, fiddling with the tight neck of his shirt. Standing abruptly, he turned to the drawers lining the wall behind his desk. “Here, let me look at my files. As you know, much time has elapsed since your father passed away and I haven’t consulted the papers since your brother, the duke, inherited the estate. Although…” The lawyer wiggled as he returned to his chair, a smile teasing his lips. “I am delighted that your brother is soon to be wed. Your family deserves to be joyful, after the tragic passing of your parents so close together.”
Clearing his throat, Perry frowned at Mr. Winthrop, urging the man to focus on the reason for his visit.
“Of course. After Eliza’s tragic passing and the loss of myparents, it certainly is time for some happiness for us Spencers,” he agreed, eyeing the files, then the solicitor to encourage him to continue.
Mr. Winthrop hummed as he pulled out a stack of files, rifling through the papers before him. Clicking his tongue, he scanned each document, then shook his head when he deemed it irrelevant. Many of these files were old business dealings, as Perry surmised when he looked them over himself.
“Perhaps this one will be of interest; it pertains only to you. The papers here indicate the date you and your father signed the marriage contracts. How fortunate that Eliza’s father didn’t have an heir and you inherited the title. You are a blessed man, my lord.”
His stomach sank at the memory. Signing those papers meant signing his life—and his love—away. All hope had left him the day he agreed to marry Eliza. Perry had desperately sought to ask for Charlotte’s hand, regardless of the consequences, and the baron had refused. Her father was adamant about honoring her betrothal contract and Perry knew that as a second son, he had nothing to offer that matched what the Viscount Dewberry possessed. Being dismissed by the baron didn’t change the fact that Charlotte was the only bride he ever wanted. The way she vanished without a word was easily explained by her illness. Perry was left with nothing to hold on to. Nothing to hope for. She had slipped from his grasp, as though she were merely an illusion. A mirage. A moment to be committed to memory. It was impossible for him to comprehend.
Plunged into weeks of dismal despair those many years ago, he soothed his pain with liquor, spending days on end drinking himself into oblivion. Finally, the day had come when the older duke had had enough. His father had stormed into his bachelor’s lodgings and slapped Perry in the face as he lay in a drunken stupor. The duke’s bellows reverberated off the walls as he called for him to get up. There would be no avoiding his deal with thedevil. And truly, with Charlotte gone, he had seen no reason why he should.
Perry had promptly vomited in a chamber pot as his father stared at him with contempt.
“Get up, you wastrel,” the elder Spencer spat. “You are embarrassing our family with your drunkenness. Have you no pride?” The duke’s dark, cold blue eyes watched him with pure loathing as Perry lifted his gaze to lock with his father’s.
“I am giving you everything you could ever want as a second son. A title, an estate through your wife’s dowry. You should be kissing my boots; instead, you’re showing me how unworthy you are of this gift. Do you not understand how this will benefit you?”
Taking a cloth from the washstand, Perry wiped his face. His cheek burned, marred by the mark of the duke’s hand. He crumbled to the floor, curled into himself, cloaked in misery. Resting his head on his knees, the hard wood of the bed frame dug into his back. He welcomed the pain.
His voice trembled from the aftereffects of the illness. “I don’t want any of it,” he said, his voice rough and desperate.
Snorting with a scornful laugh, his father rolled his eyes. “But you will have it. If you’re holding some hope to wed that sickly Townsend chit, you are deluding yourself. She will not have you; her father will never allow it. She is already betrothed, if she even lives long enough to make it to her own wedding. A woman of such poor health would not bear you strong heirs.”
Perry finally saw exactly how much hatred for him his father possessed. Their name, their reputation, their fortune, that was all that mattered to him. His children were pawns in increasing his prestige. Feathers in his cap. Their desires never once came into play.
He should have known when Beauregard was betrothed to a mere child.
Or his sister to an old, miserly man, before she had even come of age to wed.
He had fought for Charlotte and lost. Her family wouldn’t allow him access to her and his proposal of marriage had been denied. Soon after his meeting with the Townsends, rumors had begun to circulate of their daughter succumbing to a horrible fever, sealing his fate.
What was there to fight for if Charlotte no longer lived?
What was there to fight for if his heart was so completely broken? It was of no use to anyone. He was a shell of a man, and perhaps this would make a wedding to Eliza easier.
An empty shell could no longer feel pain.
