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“It’s a good thing you’re already seated,” Dalton said. “You may want another drink.”
“That bad?”
“Worse. Much worse.”
Perfect. More bad news. Nick held out his glass for a refill. “Out with it, then. I’m ready.”
Dalton crossed his formidable arms over his chest. “I made the rounds of the hells and spoke with my inside contacts. This isn’t the first time His Grace has gambled and lost heavily. As it turns out, for the past two months, he’s been gambling frequently.”
“Pardon?” Nick exploded. “But I hired Stubbs to watch him... oh... damn it all! I can’t believe Stubbs would do this. I trusted him implicitly.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Stubbs has been leading the duke to the lowest gambling hells, encouraging him to be reckless, and pocketing any profits,” said Dalton with a pitying look. “Though it was mostly losses from what I gather.”
Fury spiked through Nick like the sudden onset of a tropical fever. “I’ll murder Stubbs when I find him. How could this happen?”
“There could be someone else behind the scenes,” Patrick mused. “Someone who perhaps coerced or hired Mr. Stubbs and wishes to discredit you and the duke. Cause damage to you financially.”
“How much damage are we talking?”
“More whiskey?” Dalton said.
Nick groaned and placed his chin on his fist. “Yesterday I received an accounting of my mother’s latest bills. Five hundred quid for her milliner. For bonnets. Does the woman discard them after one wearing? Three hundred for monogrammed jeweled cravat pins. Some young buck with the initials S.C.”
“You may want to ask her to economize,” Patrick said.
“You don’t know my mother. She’s Swiss French. She must have the very best of everything.”
“In that case, you may wish to marry Miss Tombs immediately,” said Dalton.
Nick’s head snapped up.
Had he truly joined the ranks of impoverished peers who required an heiress to bail them out of financial straits?
Though he’d already made up his mind to go through with the marriage.
When he’d left the baronet’s house he’d had the sinking feeling that he would never be able to hurt Miss Tombs by breaking an engagement. She’d looked at him with too much trust in her eyes. He simply couldn’t bring himself to cause her pain.
He respected her too much.
Besides, he was looking forward to making her blush again. And then watching her board a ship bound for India.
A sudden vision filtered through his mind like a swirl of orange bitters mixing into a glass of whiskey.
Leggy Miss Tombs spread across his bed, long limbs twined with his.
Sliding his toes along a curved instep while tasting soft, full lips.
“Nick?”
“What’s that?” Nick glanced at Dalton.
“What were you thinking about?” his friend asked. “You had a silly grin on your face. You looked almost... contented.”
“Ah, nothing. So who could be behind this? I would suspect my uncle of wanting to discredit the duke, since he’s made no secret of the fact he wants his brother declared insane, but this financial loss hurts my uncle as well since his son Barnaby stands to inherit everything in the future. Already paid me a visit, my uncle. Was livid about the marriage. Thinks I’ll produce an heir. Which I won’t.”
“After some investigation on my part, I believe we may rule out your uncle,” Patrick said.
Nick tossed back the remainder of his whiskey. “I have to find Stubbs and question the man. I think you’re right. I don’t think he was working alone. It’s just not like him.”
