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Chapter Thirty-Three
"Now, I know that you rank higher than me in society, but as your elder and father-in-law, I believe that I do not deserve you brandishing your wealth at me the way you have done," Lord Hanover said.
Nicholas had decided to pay his father-in-law a visit early that morning. The rejected cheque had been issued by him to the Earl of Hanover to settle his debts. After mulling things over, he realized that he had gone about everything the wrong way. Yes, it was in their agreement that Lord Hanover’s debts would be paid but he had refused to collect money from him.
It did not surprise Nicholas overmuch that the earl had rejected his offer. He knew how proud and tough the man was. Besides, the earl deserved more respect than that from him. “I beg your pardon, Lord Hanover.”
“I gave you my daughter because I know she will be taken care of,” Adolf said. “I never intended to collect money from you, Nicholas. I do not want or need charity. I am working on some ventures that will enable me to clear my debts."
Nicholas admired the man’s efforts to turn his fortune around on his own. “Forgive me. I meant well and have come to you with a proposal. One I think you might welcome.”
Adolf shook his head immediately and protested. "Have you not heard a word I said? I do not want charity."
"This charity is not for you," Nicholas said calmly. "I need your help."
He went on to tell him about the fire and his loss, stating that he needed his experience and clout—especially with the new corn laws in place—to revive his estate the soonest and put his tenants back on their feet.
"You see, this charity is for me," Nicholas concluded.
Heartsbay was a mere fraction of his wealth, of course, but his tenants came first. Working with Lord Hanover on this was the only way he could trick the man into accepting some help.
Adolf considered this for a moment before saying, “I shall give it some thought.”
* * *
“This arrived shortly after your departure, Your Grace.” Bentley handed him a missive as soon as he was in the house.
“Where is it from?” Nicholas asked, flipping the missive to check for an address.
“I cannot say. A boy brought it and did not even wait for a coin.”
“Ah. Thank you, Bentley.” Nicholas knew exactly where the missive had come from, and with a nod in the butler’s direction, he started toward his study but paused. “Where is my wife?”
“She is in her laboratory, Your Grace.” He almost changed his course to see her but he needed to discover what had been written to him. Thus, he entered his study and closed the door firmly behind him.
The missive was from Lady Digby and she had agreed to meet and talk as he had requested. She had taken the liberty of choosing their place of meeting which Nicholas did not mind at all. All he was concerned with was acquiring the truth. Opening the bottom drawer at his desk that he always kept locked, he pulled out the marriage document and the letter that had come with it, then made his way to the address.
His life had suddenly taken a strange turn that he was unable to comprehend. But if he could at least find the end of this rope, then perhaps he could find a way to solve the problem. He knocked on the door and it was immediately opened as though someone had been waiting by it for his arrival all along. Rather than a butler, Vanessa Whittaker stood on the other side of the door, regarding him with equal parts of surprise and disappointment on her features.
That, he found very odd but before he could distinguish whether such an observation had been real or merely his imagination, her expression dissolved into that familiar, charming, and more often than not, vain expression that quintessentially hers.
"Nicholas." She gave the smallest of curtsies, one more irreverent than courteous. "The years, like everything else, seem to favor you,” she added, giving him the slowest of appraisals with a small slant of her lips.
"What are you doing by the door, Nessa?" sounded the familiar voice of Lady Digby as she descended the stairs.
Nicholas listened for her reply. He, too, was curious about what she was doing at the door. "I am welcoming our guest, Mama," Vanessa responded with a smile, her gaze never leaving his face.
"We have a butler for that,” Lady Digby said, peeking from behind her daughter for a better look at their guest. Her countenance immediately hardened at the sight of Nicholas.Not the welcome I was expecting,he thought.
Vanessa stepped aside to let him in as the butler appeared to take his hat and gloves. Then he was ushered into an Egyptian-style drawing room where he took a seat after the ladies.
"Ring for some tea, Nessa darling,” Lady Digby instructed her daughter, her displeased and now almost smug gaze was pinned on Nicholas. “We don’t want to keep our guest thirsty, now do we?”
"Never mind the pleasantries, Lady Digby," Nicholas interjected. "I'm here for business."
"Business?" Lady Digby bristled, her hand going up to her chest in a gesture of affront. “Is that what you consider marriage to my daughter?Business?"
"Yes, Lady Digby. As long as the verity of this marriage hangs uncertain, it isbusiness,” he pointed out, setting down the marriage document on the center table between them. "This is all you have. A document which could easily have been forged."
