Page 39 of Manufacturing a Duchess

He looked about at the other men seated at various long tables throughout. The day of the coffee house was well in the past, but he retained a fondness for the few remaining. This one he had frequented on his first trip to London while a stripling trying to prove he was an adult, and he was pleased it was still in business. He would spend hours here, with and without his cousin, imagining what it must have been like in the days of Dr. Johnson with the pipe smoke, jollity, piles of newsprint, and the hubbub of writers and thinkers and scribblers.

The proprietor kept a neat house; it was still clean and nothing untoward crawled over the floor. But the inhabitants were more subdued these days. Also, gentlemen most certainly did not frequent such places anymore. Tea was all the rage, and one’s club was where one was seen. Which Alec knew and which was precisely why he had decided on a dish of coffee. For old time’s sake and to get away from the Ton. Even taking to the outdoors on the back of a horse to have a conversation was not very private in this city.

Finn simply smiled quietly, saying nothing and watching Alec take in the room. He was at his most Corinthian today, decked out as the absolute tip-top of a gentleman of the Ton, and elicited some outright stares from the coffee house’s inhabitants. But then, as he did nothing to excite further attention, everyone returned to their drinking, talking, and reading of newspapers. “It has been a while, hasn’t it. See, there are some advantages to London.”

“Yes. When it comes to coffee, yes. Why, it might even help the morning porridge go down a might more smoothly.”

Finn laughed at that. “Must keep the bowels healthy, eh?”

“Aye.” Alec laughed quietly.

“So, much as it delights me to meet outside of our club, what is the reason for today’s rendezvous? News?”

“Yes, news.” Alec set down his dish of coffee, placed his elbows on the table, and leaned forward. “I would like your assistance.”

“Oh? Do tell. This sounds rather clandestine.”

“Well, not exactly. Well, maybe. Dash it, Finn, I have proposed.”

Finn raised one eyebrow. “And am I to wish you the happy?”

“Yes. At least, I believe so.”

“That sounds…encouraging? Who is to be the helpmeet of your future life?”

At that, Alec leaned even further across the table. “Miss H.”

“Sorry? I did not quite catch that.”

“The heiress, you fool. As you well knew. I refuse to shout out her name for all to hear.”

“Asked? Answered? Negotiated?”

“Yes.” Alec sat back a little. “To all intents and purposes, that is.”

“Alec, this is starting to sound rather havey-cavey.”

Alec shot him a look and then sat all the way back. “I suppose I had better begin at the beginning.”

Finn only nodded.

“All right. I met with Lord W, who is acting as proxy for Mr. H. But before having Lord W. draw up the paperwork, I said I wished to make my formal proposal to Miss H. And then Miss H. accepted my offer with the proviso I complete the formal negotiations with Mr. H. at his home and also secure Marjorie’s permission. I agreed to Miss H.’s terms, spoke with Marjorie, sent Miss H. a note in the affirmative, met with Lord W. to set the date of our trip north, and that is all tied up as of midday. We leave in three days.”

Finn’s other eyebrow had risen to meet the first one. “I see,” he said after a moment. “A bit long-winded, but the much-anticipated end is in sight. Except that you left out the exact financial terms. Alec, I see your face. I know you hate discussing this part. But please tell me you discussed the exact financial terms.”

“Yes, yes, Finn. I am not a complete imbecile. The terms are quite satisfactory. A five-thousand-pound annual amount to be settled on Miss H. now, and eventually the entire estate, which conservatively would mean eight thousand pounds a year depending upon whenever Mr. H. should pass away. It shall more than answer all of my needs, and Marjorie’s future will be secured.”

“Excellent! I am also sure any keen eared writer of the gossip sheets would be completely confounded by the codes you have used to disguise the personages involved in relaying this information.”

Alec simply looked at him.

Finn stopped talking and returned the direct gaze. “You mean, there is more?” he asked, after several minutes of the mutual stare-down.

“Yes. I would like you to accompany me. As my second. As my moral support. As my, well, as my friend, Finn.”

At that, Finn presented Alec with a genuine smile. “I should be delighted. I have been so happy for you throughout this entire conversation, I have not chided you once for calling me Finn and not Henry.”

“But there’s one more thing.”