Page 43 of Debtor’s Daughter

Once Leo had supplied everyone with a healthy dose of brandy, Larkin explained about his new neighbours and the tragedy of the late Mr Merrivale’s estate.

“I remember hearing about that,” Jules said, shaking his head. “It was at The Crooked Penny, and a more justly named club there never was, for you’re as likely to get cozened there or your throat slit as anywhere in London.”

“That’s what I’d heard too. I’d wager anything the game was rigged,” Leo chimed in.

Jules nodded. “There was certainly a good deal of talk when it happened. Apparently Merrivale was half seas over and clearly out of his head with desperation. Even the clientele at the Penny, charming as they are, protested he was in no state to play, but Jenkins goaded the fellow so blatantly Merrivale was never going to refuse, what with the state he was in.”

Larkin’s jaw tightened at this revelation, though it was nothing more than he’d expected. He glowered into his drink, turning his glass back and forth in his hands. “Poor old Merrivale, fool that he was. He ought never to have been playing so deep with so many people depending on him, but he did and now he’s left his family out in the cold.”

“Are they in debt?”

Larkin shook his head. “I don’t believe so. From what I gather, anything of value was sold to cover his creditors. The house and a few contents were all that remained, but that’s what’s of value to the ladies. It’s their home and they mourn the loss of it. I just keep thinking how I would feel if Mitcham Priory was taken from my family by foul means, and I was powerless to get it back.”

“Sticks in the throat,” Leo agreed, his expression serious. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

“I’m going to win it back,” Larkin said, more determined than ever to do it, to make amends to Mrs Finchley for the way he’d toyed with her affections. Though it pained him to admit it, he could not call it anything other than what it was. He had flirted with her, mildly yes, but she was a woman who was plainly vulnerable after everything she had endured. Every code of honour screamed at him that such women were to be protected, and he, of all people, had behaved badly.

Leo and Jules exchanged glances but, unlike Montagu, they did not imply he had lost his mind.

“How?” Jules asked.

“That’s what I need you for. I’ve asked Montagu to find out what he can about the fellow, a Mr Jenkins. As soon as I hear from him, I’ll know how to proceed, but I’m thinking of an exclusive invitation to a high stakes game. A fellow like this Jenkins would likely give his right arm for membership here, so such an invitation would be irresistible, don’t you think?”

Leo nodded, smiling wickedly. “I do. And then we’ll fleece him.”

“I’ll fleece him,” Larkin amended. “But I’d appreciate your help.”

“Then you have it,” Jules said with his usual lazy smile. “I shall look forward to it. Haven’t been to a game in an age. Can’t say I’ve missed it, though,” he admitted.

“How is the lovely Selina?” Larkin asked, amused that the once reckless rake had become such a devoted husband and father.

“Increasing, again,” he admitted with a grin that showed how pleased he was by this news. “But don’t put it about. I’ve not told my parents yet.”

“Congratulations!” Leo and Larkin both exclaimed.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” Leo added with a wink.

Jules snorted and rolled his eyes. “Stow it. Pour me another drink and let us celebrate properly. We’ll have a hand or two before dinner and then take advantage of our own excellent chef. So long as I’m home before midnight, I’m in the clear.”

Larkin laughed, shaking his head over his friend’s curfew. “Will you turn into a pumpkin, or will Selina lock you out?”

Leo laughed and then coughed. “I said the same,” he admitted ruefully, and Larkin mocked them both for being hen-pecked as he was supposed to do, but the words felt hollow, and he could not but wish he too had someone waiting for him to get home.