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Chapter Thirty-Eight
After leaving Arabella and Annette at the Kensington address, Charles returned to his office, for his meeting with Lord Norton. Lord Norton was on time, as promised.
“Welcome, My Lord,” Charles said, ushering him in. “Would you care for a drink?”
“No, thank you,” Lord Norton was rather morose clearly expecting bad news.
“I trust you read my letter,” Charles said, wondering just how to broach the subject at hand. Lord Norton nodded.
“I imagine my cousin is still trying to disinherit me?” Lord Norton mused, raising an eyebrow. “He’s been trying to do it since last summer.”
Charles sighed. Clearly Lord Norton wasn’t up for any niceties. “He’s prepared to give you a generous offer in order for you to not challenge the changes to the will.”
“Very well. Let’s see it.” Lord Norton pulled out a pair of spectacles balancing them on the bridge of his nose.
Charles pulled out the Duke’s note passing it across the desk. Lord Norton’s eyes widened. Enheartened, Charles went on.
“Due to the recent changes to the will, you would be acquiring far less than that,” Charles explained. “Most of it would go to the Lady Arabella and her mother. What’s the point of a title, if you don’t have the money to support it?”
Lord Norton was quiet for a long moment. He was staring at the note, pulling his lips inward, over his teeth. He tapped one fingernail on the arm of the chair in which he sat.
“You already have an estate, and a title,” Charles went on.
“I have always wanted to be Duke,” Lord Norton said. “But if the estate is no longer coming to me in its entirety, as you say—”
“Well, the Duchess’s fortune will be going to her, as agreed,” Charles said. “And then, the Duke has recently increased Lady Arabella’s monthly allowance, then with the death duties, you would be receiving much less than that. The Duke is willing to give this money to you now. There would be no death duties. You would only need to sign away your rights in favor of the Lady Arabella.”
Lord Norton sat in silence. His one eye twitched a little. Charles sat back, his hands folded. He wasn’t quite sure that Lord Norton would do this. It was a gamble. Not to mention, it would be the talk of the ton.
Lord Norton sighed. “Very well. Give me the document.”
Charles smiled, pulling out the papers, passing them across the desk. Lord Norton read it through, nodding. He accepted the quill from Charles, dipping it into the ink pot.
“It’s a sad day when such a lady receives a title on top of it,” Lord Norton said as he signed his name with a flourish. “But I’m a business man myself. I know when to take a loss.”
“Why is that?” Charles asked, disapprovingly. There was no reason to insult Arabella.
“He’ll just continue to erode the estate until it’s worthless to me,” Lord Norton said. “He’s far smarter than I am, and far more ruthless.”
Charles smiled at him. Lord Norton wasn’t hurting. Maybe a little disappointed, but he was still the Master of Norton Hall, and was now quite a bit richer than he had been prior to walking in.
Lord Norton paused, shaking his head. “I never understood them, not at all,” he said sadly.
That much has always been clear.
“Well,” Charles said. “You will have your money by the end of the business day tomorrow. I will deliver it myself to whichever address you give me now.”
* * *
Arabella and her parents were sitting up in the parlor. Arabella took a sip of her tea. It had been a quiet day. Arabella’s thoughts were of her impending nuptials, and what happened after.
She’d thought long about the things that would come. The idea of being alone with Charles, with no one to interfere or interrupt was positively delectable.
Her mind was filled with clothes, slowly being removed, and what Charles might look like, dressed only in the light of the candles. After all, she had placed her hand on his chest. Through his clothing, he was solid—fit.
She imagined Charles, trailing kisses along her neck. It caused her to heat up, despite sipping her tea as casually as though she were thinking about the Reverend Daniels’s sermon from last Sunday.
“So?” her mother said, interrupting her thoughts. “Shall we invite Mr. Conolly over to dine with us?”
