“Ah, there were all kinds of private issues that… Well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. As I said, I’m grateful that you’ve made time to see me, and I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.”
“Wrong foot? You assaulted my wife in my home,” he pointed out mercilessly.
For a moment, Lord Holt’s eyes flashed with murderous intent. He had been far too accustomed to mistreating his nieces without any interference for a long time. He did not like having his authority challenged or his wrongful actions exposed to the light of day.
Well, Nathaniel didn’t care whether he liked it or not.
“I made a mistake,” Lord Holt acknowledged after he had quelled his temper again. “My poor finances and the demands of my creditors are affecting my mind and my temper. Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing and?—”
“Let us move on,” Nathaniel said crisply, not interested in seeing or hearing this man crawl before him. “Why did you want to see me, Holt?”
“Ah, yes. Well, I’m in a precarious financial situation now that both my nieces have left my house.”
“Really?” Nathaniel asked cynically. “I would have thought that their moving to Greyhaven Park had significantly reduced the burden on your finances.”
“From one perspective, you could say that,” Lord Holt admitted, wiping sweat from his forehead with a white linen handkerchief. “But at the same time, I have lost far more after their departure.You see, I had been counting on Mary’s marriage to restore some of my capital.”
“The marriage to the elderly Earl of Ashworth that she rejected from the beginning, but that you were prepared to force her into nonetheless?” Nathaniel queried, his eyes hard but still maintaining a neutral tone.
Lord Holt attempted to laugh as though this was a joke, but the sound died on his lips at a contemptuous glance from Nathaniel.
“It would not have been a bad marriage by many measures,” he argued. “My niece would have had fortune, title, and standing.”
“And you would have been well-paid for your pimping,” Nathaniel remarked. “Why bring this sordid tale to me now?”
“You must admit that it has been your hand that scotched my plans, Your Grace. You have married my niece without my consent.”
“Cecily is six-and-twenty and requires no one’s consent.”
“Mary is but nineteen and my ward. You have taken her from under her family’s roof into a household where I understand your unmarried brother also lives. Some might think that unwise or even improper.”
“Cecily is Mary’s family and chaperone,” Nathaniel growled, not liking that the man was getting so close to the truth about Mary and Patrick, even if he were only guessing.
“Now, I understand that you and Cecily must have been plotting all of this for a long time, and I hold no grudges. You’re a great man, and I’m no fool.”
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, bored with this conversation, repulsed by this man, and just waiting to hear his plea for money.
“It’s only fair, Your Grace, that you make sure I’m not harmed by your marriage, isn’t it? You’ve gained a wife and taken her sister from me, too. They were all I had!”
“In terms of realizable assets, you mean,” Nathaniel responded sarcastically. “I have seen no sign that you valued Cecily or Mary in any other way during your guardianship. If Cecily wasn’t too clever for you, you would have sold her off, too. Personally, I find her priceless.”
Again, Lord Holt struggled with his temper, but he managed to regain control and affect a beseeching expression. He had not even taken a seat, but stood before Nathaniel with outstretched hands, as if he were begging favors from a king.
“All I ask is a modest sum, commensurate with what I could have received from Lord Ashworth for Mary’s hand.”
“Well, you will never see a penny from me, Holt. I don’t buy and sell women. When Mary is one-and-twenty, she may marry or not, as she and Cecily see fit.”
“Your Grace, I beg you.”
“Do not beg; it would be embarrassing for both of us.”
Having had enough, Nathaniel stood and rang the bell for Simkins’ while Lord Holt continued to stand there, red-faced and impotent, his jaw working furiously.
“Our meeting is over, Holt. Get out.”
“I’ll make you regret this, Greyhaven! You’re a damn thief, that’s what you are, and you’ll regret that you’ve stolen from me.”
Lord Holt’s rather hysterical shouting would surely be heard in the rooms next door.
