Page 24 of The Detective and the Baroness

Her younger brother stood and faced her. “To see if you are still living,” he replied sardonically. “Father and I haven’t seen you in weeks. Why are you wearing your nurse’s uniform?”

“I am assisting a doctor to treat those in need in the East End. Spitalfields, to be exact.”

“I am rather surprised to hear it. I would have thought you had had enough of nursing the indigent.” Jeffery looked about the room. “What is going on, and where is Addington? At his office?”

Corrine winced inwardly. Her brother knew of an office, and she did not? She removed her cloak, tossed it on the sofa, and sat beside it. “Why do you ask about Travis? Do you want to speak to him?”

Jeffery shrugged. “No. I just thought he’d be here.”

“Please sit, Jeffery. And what office are you talking about?”

Her brother sat in the wing chair facing her. “I have no idea where his office is located. I simply assumed he has one, since he is a consulting engineer for the London and South Western Railway. At least, that is what he told Father when he came to ask permission to offer for you. Though why he asked seemed odd—you were well past the age of consent.”

Corrine blinked rapidly. “Maybe because Travis is an honorable gentleman? But really—Travis came to see Father? When?”

“Sister, you’ve gone as white as a sheet. Are you telling me you knew none of this, including his occupation?”

The footman entered with the tray and placed it between them.

“That will be all, Jonathan. Close the door behind you, if you please,” Corrine murmured tonelessly. The footman departed, and Jeffery immediately piled his plate high with sandwiches.

Corrine poured the tea, her hand shaking. “Now, as for Travis, he is at his previous residence in Camden Town. In fact, the baron has been there for some weeks. We are—separated. And no, I knew nothing of him coming to see Father or that he had any occupation at all.”

“What have you done to chase him away?” her brother asked between chewing his ham sandwiches.

Corrine slammed the china teapot on the tray, the cover rattling precariously. “Of course, if there is any disharmony in a marriage, it must be the woman’s fault. He is the one who left, and I will not be discussing what happened with anyone, including you. It is my private business. Travis is a veritable stranger. I married him to save our family from financial collapse. You have no idea how close we were to complete ruin.”

Jeffery reached for the cup of tea she poured. “I’ve no idea because you have never said. Ever.”

“You have just turned twenty-three and have only been employed at the bank for over a year. I didn’t tell you earlier because you were too young to be of any assistance. And our viscount father?” Corrine exhaled. “He was oblivious. Trying to make him understand we had no money was a daily chore, but he continued to open accounts and purchase items on credit. He is a viscount. What company or retail store would refuse him? I’d no sooner pay off one debt than I’d discover another. And God forbid he buy useful items like food, medicine, or clothing. Father purchased paintings, bottles of French brandy, expensive suits, and—” Corrine shook her head. “I should not be speaking ill of Father. He tried, in his insensible way.”

Jeffery frowned. “I had no idea. I am sorry, Corri.”

Corrine raised a dubious eyebrow. “No idea? Hadn’t you noticed the servants leaving and not being replaced over the years? Items disappearing because I had to sell them? Why I labored as a nurse all those years while you and Father waltzed through life without a care in the world?” It was challenging to keep the annoyance from her voice.

“Our hardship was not discussed in the open, so how would I know? But that is no excuse. I should have taken more of an interest. I was ignorant of our dire situation because our father spoiled me rotten. I know that now. You paid for my university, didn’t you?”

Yes, Jeffery had been pampered as the only son and heir would be, but more so after their mother died. “I did. It certainly wasn’t our father. I sold the train painting by Joseph Turner for a few hundred pounds. That paid for most of it.”

Jeffery shook his head. “I wondered where it went but didn’t care enough to ask. How bad was—or are—our finances?”

Corrine took a fortifying gulp of tepid tea. “In ’69, the Debtors Act limited the ability of the courts to throw people in debtors’ prison. But the courts can still do it if they deem a person has the means to pay but doesn’t, or if the person defaults. Believe me, I researched this. I had to. When Travis approached me, we were about to default, which meant Father—and us as well—could have been incarcerated for up to six weeks. Or longer. We would have lost our hard-won positions. Shame would cover this family, one we would never recover from—financially or socially. I made a snap decision, and I’m not sorry I did so.”

Her brother’s mouth dropped open briefly in shock. “My God, Corri. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped.”

“No,” Corrine replied sadly. “There was nothing to be done. What little money I managed to save, I hid away. When Father found it, he bought stock in a failed automobile company last year. That put us behind again, and I could never catch up. I was just so weary of it all. I also needed to get away from Father before I did or said something I would regret. Travis Addington offered me a lifeline. I took it.”

Jeffery shook his head sadly. “You sold yourself. For us. I will never forgive myself for being such a feckless lad. I went to our father and asked for new clothes, books, and the like because I thought we had a little money. I mean, I knew we weren’t wealthy, or why else would you be working? But he led me to believe we were at least comfortable. I had no inkling the finances all rested with you. Dash it all, I am sorry.”

Corrine sipped her tea. “I paid all the outstanding bills once I received my marriage settlement. At least, the ones I was aware of. I told Father not to open any more accounts and buy frivolous items.” Corrine placed her cup on the table and strode to the desk. Opening the drawer, she grabbed a fistful of invoices. “I pay a stipend to both of you every month. These are Father’s recent bills. He sent them to me yesterday with a note claiming he has no money to pay them.” Her voice raised in distress with each sentence. “Granted, they are not large bills, but bills nonetheless. Father has not heeded my directions at all.”

Jeffery shot to his feet and rushed to her side. “Give them to me,” he said gently, taking the papers from her. “I will deal with Father. I will personally go around to these places and close his accounts, then demand they do not give credit to him any longer. I will take over the finances of the viscountcy. You have my word. I will take firm control of this.” Jeffery gathered up the invoices. “Going forward, I will ensure Father lives within the means you have generously provided.”

Corrine threw her arms around her brother’s neck. It was such a relief to unburden it all, and she was thankful he would take over dealing with their father.

Jeffery held her close and patted her back. “There, dear sister. All will be well. Come and sit and have more tea. It’s surprising how comforting tea can be.” He assisted her to the sofa and then sat across from her, placing the pile of outstanding bills in front of him. Her brother had grown into a fine man, tall and handsome, with light brown hair and eyes. He had some threads of auburn in his hair, but she had more.

“Now, what will you do about Addington?” Jeffery asked.