AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Definitely.”
“Very well. Good day, Lord Tragmore.”
“Very good day, Larson.”
Tragmore waited only until the investigator had gone before he crossed the room, poured himself a congratulatory drink. Things were proceeding even better than he’d hoped. Oh, he’d known it was only a matter of time before the sentimental dolt began calling on Elizabeth, presumably to see to her well being. But flowers? Yellow roses, no less, even after all these years. And unchaperoned visits? The witless clergyman was making his own job laughably easy.
Lifting his glass, Tragmore smiled malevolently. A fortnight longer, he thought, tossing off the brandy. And then all he cared about would be his: vengeance, money—
A hesitant knock interrupted his celebration.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Forgive me, my lord,” the butler murmured, “but your solicitor is here to see you. He apologizes for not having an appointment, but—”
“Hollingsby?” Tragmore’s face lit up. “Perfect timing. Send him right in.”
“Yes, sir.”
The butler disappeared, only to usher the solicitor directly into the study. “Mr. Hollingsby, sir.”
“Hollingsby, what a splendid coincidence. I was just thinking of you,” Tragmore began.
The solicitor didn’t return his smile. “As I told your butler, I apologize for arriving without an appointment. However, I did need to see you on several important matters. Being in the vicinity, I took the liberty of dropping in unannounced.”
Hollingsby’s stiff demeanor did not go unnoticed. Quizzically, Tragmore inclined his head. “Very well. May I offer you something?”
“Thank you, no. This is not a social call.” Purposefully, Hollingsby remained standing, extracting two formal-looking papers from his portfolio and handing the first to Tragmore. “This document is your official notification that I will no longer be representing your interests.”
Tragmore’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“To be blunt, Tragmore, those who engage my services pay their bills. I shudder to think how much you owe me. However, rest assured, I plan to determine the full amount of your debt. And once I have, I’ll do whatever is necessary to recoup my losses.”
“This is an outrage!” Tragmore sputtered. “We’ve done business together for years.”
“Yes. Uncompensated business. I’m no longer willing to endure your unfulfilled promises of payment.”
“You’re making a grave mistake, Hollingsby. In less than a month, I expect to—”
“Don’t humiliate either of us by boasting of some fictitious fortune you’re about to attain,” Hollingsby interrupted quietly. “My decision is made.”
“Fine.” Tragmore’s lips thinned as he savored the victory that would soon be his. “You’re the fool, not I. And when the very real fortune of which I speak is mine, I shall engage a shrewder and more influential solicitor to manage my funds.” He laughed, a caustic sound of gloating triumph. “Yes, I believe I shall begin searching for the ideal candidate posthaste.”
Hollingsby shrugged. “That, of course, is your right.” He extended the second formally prepared paper to Tragmore. “There’s a second reason I can no longer represent you, which this document will clarify.”
“What is it?” Tragmore snatched the page.
“It’s a statement of intent. I thought it only ethical to advise you that I’m representing your wife’s interests now.”
“My wife’s—” Tragmore stared blankly at the paper, hot color suffusing his face.
“The marchioness intends to sever your marriage. I’ve engaged a barrister.”
“Elizabeth is trying to secure a divorce?”
“She is.”
“On what grounds?”
