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Reginald shook his head and toyed with his coat, which was black and ragged. Quite like a poor, much-abused clerk’s coat, when he thought about it. He’d been living like a pauper for years.
But what if Father is right? What if I could do that as a Marquess? What if I could do it better?
He dared to think it, but he couldn’t quite make himself believe it was true. It seemed unreal to think about just how many of his friends’ problems could disappear with just the tiniest sliver of his family’s fortune. “You might as well return me to prison, Father,” he said softly, “for all the good that I’ll do you. I’m not worthy of that title, and I doubt that I could do any good with it.”
“I’m not letting you loose upon London once more,” his father replied. “Not after I spent so long searching for you. I don’t care what you’ve done. You can do this. You can learn to be a proper gentleman again. I can introduce you to thetonagain.”
This sounded like a plan which was already doomed to fail, but when Reginald looked into his father’s pale blue eyes, so filled with suffering and sorrow, he found guilt blossoming in his chest. How could he refuse in good conscience and bring any more pain to this man, who looked so much older than he ought to at five-and-fifty years?
“If I marry her, I’ll have my money, though,” Reginald said slowly, “to do with what I will?”
“Yes. I hope that you’ll use some good judgment with it,” his father replied, “something which…”
Reginald’s lips twitched into a wry smile. “Something which I’m clearly lacking in? Is that what you meant to say?”
“I meant to say which our family is lacking in, if your cousin’s financial difficulties are any indication. But yes, you may. If you’re careful with it, you might also be able to offer some small bit of aid to your charities and people. Buy Mr. Smythe, the clerk of Lant Street, a new coat if you desire or offer his young wife some small trinket.”
“Or, I have Mr. Smythe work for me, which would solve both of our problems. He’d have better wages and a kinder employer, and I’d have someone to manage my money.”
“Is the clerk also an accountant?”
“Not formally,” Reginald replied, “but he’s good with numbers.”
He was good with many other things, besides. Smythe’s talents were certainly wasted on his cold-hearted employer. Reginald frowned and began thinking of all the people he knew in London. There were so many who were so much more deserving of more than life had given them, many who’d been forced into crime to survive. Just like he had.
Surely, I could learn to tolerate a haughty Viscount’s daughter if it means that I’ll still be able to do some good in the world.
“Well, then,” Reginald said slowly. “It looks as though I’m to wed. When will I be allowed to meet my lovely bride?”
