AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Surprised the banker had proceeded so bluntly to the point, Tony swallowed a scalding mouthful of coffee. There being no point in evading the issue, once he could talk again, he said simply, "Yes."
"What have you besides your aristocratic birth to recommend you? Since, given your reputation, your family name alone is little enough."
Once Tony might have lashed out at a social inferior who dared address him thus. His father would surely have done so today. But two and a half years of living in the face of death had taught him to strip matters to their essential truths.
He couldn't argue with this one.
Even so, chagrin and anger heated his face as he rose to his feet. "Then I expect there is no further point to this interview. Thank you for your hospitality."
"Sit back down, if you please," Mr. Harris said. "I understand pride is a luxury you can no longer afford."
Tony made him a bow. "Sometimes, sir, pride is all a man has left." As ramrod straight as if passing in review on the parade field, Tony limped toward the door.
Slowed by furious despair and the still-considerable task of walking rigidly upright, Tony made it only halfway across the room before his host caught up with him.
"Nay, my lord, please stay. I didn't mean to insult you, but I did need to take your measure."
Convinced now that coming here had been a mistake, Tony tried to edge toward the door. "Indeed?"
"You came here to ask a favor of me, accepted the hospitality of my table. Do you not owe me at least remaining until I've finished saying what I wish to say?"
Lips tight, Tony nodded and limped back to his chair. Hopefully Harris would frame his lecture on propriety into a monologue-and keep it short. Tony might be obliged to listen, but for the price of a damned breakfast he had no intention of groveling.
"First, let me say that had you argued with my statement, or admitted its truth amid a profusion of promises to reform, I should have shown you the door. But a man who can face unpleasant truths and retain his dignity is a man who does possess something worth bargaining over. Do you still wish to leave, or shall I continue?"
Perhaps he should hear the man out. "Continue."
"As you might imagine, testimonials to the profligacy of your character before you left England were easy to obtain and, pray excuse me, but your father's deficiencies are well-known. My son tells me, however, that you were always fair and mindful of the men in your charge. What do you hope to achieve, should you manage to wed an heiress?"
"I mean to redeem my family's debt, repair my estates and restore their ability to produce income."
"And your reputation?"
Tony sighed. "Redeeming that may not be possible."
"I expect much is possible for a man of grit and determination. I also know from observing my own son how profound a change can be wrought by army service. A change-" Harris gestured to Tony's leg "-far deeper than the merely physical.
"So I made some inquiries," Harris continued. "Since your return, you've visited your club but twice and incurred neither gaming losses or further debts with tradesmen. Such funds as you've won have been used to pay down your accounts with several merchants. And though you have visited a gaming house nearly every night, you play carefully-and virtually sober. As if," he said with a penetrating glance, "you embarked upon gaming as a means of earning an income. Am I right so far?"
Having made so extensive an inquiry, Harris must have realized that Tony did in fact game to survive.
Embarrassed nonetheless, he nodded stiffly.
"Am I also correct in assuming that, given your preference, you would rather not embrace matrimony as a means of solving your financial difficulties?"
Tony laughed shortly. "You may."
"Without wishing to boast, I allow that I wield a good deal of authority among the financial community-a sort of 'Wellington of the Cits,' you might say. I was able to obtain a detailed list of your family's financial holdings at all the firms which have...enjoyed your father's custom."
"Then you know how bad the situation is," Tony said.
Mr. Harris nodded. "Indeed. Bad enough that the investors involved were happy to sell me the paper they held at a handsome discount. I now own all the outstanding obligations of the Nelthorpe family."
Dread curdled the breakfast in his stomach as Tony realized the implications. With interest payments so long in arrears and the total sum of the debts so vast, Harris could easily demand an initial payment of overdue interest far greater than the modest amount Tony had amassed. And if Tony were unable to come up with the sum demanded, Harris could foreclose.
On everything.
Total ruin. Debtor's prison. For a moment Tony's vision blurred and the room began to spin.
Fighting off the dizziness, he forced himself to focus on the banker's face. "What do you intend to do about it?"
To his surprise, Harris smiled. "I didn't amass my fortune by calling in bad debts, if that is what you fear. I have instead rather a good record of profiting on investments that, to others, seemed a bit risky.
So I have a proposal for you." Once again, Harris gestured to a chair. "Sit down, won't you?"
Even his good knee now going suddenly rubbery, Tony sank back into his seat.
"I assume your solicitor has told you the total amount of the debt your father accumulated. What interests me, besides that rather amazing sum, is that the earl recently signed an authorization permitting you to handle the family's finances. Quite frankly, were I dealing with your father, I should foreclose and be done with it. But you, my lord, have shown a different mettle. And so I now propose to offer you a mortgage on the remaining assets you possess that are not currently encumbered, the money obtained to be invested in a variety of funds. The return on these-which, by the way, I expect to be considerable-I shall put toward repaying the other outstanding debts, minus a small allowance for your living expenses."
"Despite the amount already owed, you would offer us-another mortgage?" Tony said, unsure he'd heard correctly.
Harris shrugged. "An audacious gamble, to be sure. But if the investments prosper as I expect, you will slowly earn your way back to solvency, while I will recoup funds on mortgages that otherwise had no hope of ever being redeemed. Of course, if the investments do poorly, I shall forfeit only a modest additional sum, whereas you would lose all you have. But," he said with a smile, "I have every expectation of growing richer. And proceeding in this manner allows you to eventually get out of debt-without having to sell your name in marriage."
For a moment, the image of Jenna Fairchild flashed into his head. "What do you wish me to do?"
Harris raised his eyebrows. "No questions?"
"Mr. Harris, we both know I am no businessman. As you trust to my military performance as a testament of my character, I trust to your son's as an evidence of yours. In any event," Tony said with a wry grimace, "I haven't many options, do I? Have we a bargain, then?"
"We do," Mr. Harris confirmed. "Stop by my office later and my assistant will go over the particulars.
With the small living allowance you'll be granted, I suggest you abandon your gaming efforts and concentrate on learning to manage your properties. For advice on which, I refer you to your estate agent.
Given what I've seen of the estate books, he's a wizard at producing much from very little."
Tony knew he wouldn't be able to fully comprehend this unexpected shift in his circumstances until the shock had worn off-and he'd been able to review the details with Harris's assistant. But the crushing burden that had weighed on him from the moment his foot touched English soil eased, making him feel suddenly almost euphoric.
He extended his hand. "How can I ever thank you?"
"Prove I wasn't wrong to wager on you."
Buoyed by the first hopeful news he'd received since his return home, as he walked out Tony was suddenly struck by the contrast between the home of the banker, a man his father would dismiss as a glorified clerk far beneath an earl's notice, and his own dilapidated and dirty dwelling.
Though he appreciated his overworked staffs efforts to keep the few rooms he occupied-his chamber, the library, and the breakfast room-presentable, the rest of the house remained in desperate need of cleaning, to say nothing of painting and repairs.
A maid's salary couldn't be much. Perhaps the services of a carpenter and painter might also be obtained for a reasonable fee-surely less than it had cost to keep one of his father's hunters in feed-before he'd been forced to sell them all, of course.
He had to smile at the look of astonishment that would doubtless cross the earl's face, should he discover his son planned to spend his winnings not on women, gaming or wine, but on cleaning and repairs.
Papa, I have lived in dirt and disorder long enough. I will not do so any longer in my own home.
Perhaps, he thought with a dawning sense of hope, Anthony Nelthorpe might salvage the family honor after all.
*CHAPTER NINE*
So lost in reflection was Tony that it wasn't until he noticed he was now riding down a narrow, dead-end street that he realized he must have taken a wrong turn. A street, he realized, suddenly jolted back to the present, in what appeared to be a most unsavory neighborhood.
Evidently Pax didn't find the surroundings to his liking either, for the gelding's ears pricked up and he danced and pulled at the bridle.
