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The viscount chortled, but it was a hollow sound.
“Is that so?” he asked.
Andrew nodded.
“And I know one other thing,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I know very well that you lost quite a penny at the Derby, and that it’s hit you very hard financially.”
All traces of false bravado melted when Andrew announced his knowledge of the loss at the races. The viscount’s cheeks went white, his eyes widened, and his face fell.
“How do you know?” he asked. Suddenly, he looked more convinced that Andrew knew everything he said he did.
“That is irrelevant,” he said. He wouldn’t tell the man that it was he himself who had told Andrew by talking too loudly, even though he relished the idea of the viscount looking over his shoulder every time he spoke with someone from then on. “All that matters is that I can make all your problems go away. All you have to do is give me your blessing for Miss Whitworth’s hand in marriage.”
The viscount stared at him, clearly at a loss for words. Andrew stared at him fixedly. He knew what he would have to do to get him to relent. But he wanted the man to consider his recent actions. Andrew felt it was the least he deserved for what he had been trying to do to his own daughter.
When the viscount still hadn’t said anything another moment later, Andrew slowly rose to his feet. He stepped back from the booth with calculated steps.
“Well,” he said, tipping his hat to the bewildered lord. “I will not waste any more of your time.”
He turned to leave, but he moved slowly. He was smiling to himself even before the viscount spoke once more.
“Wait,” he said. From the sound of it, he was shuffling his way out of the booth to try to catch up to Andrew.
Andrew turned to face the man, raising his eyebrows and smirking.
“Yes?” he asked.
The viscount took a ragged breath, as though the effort of leaving his seat had left him winded.
“All right. We have a deal, Lord Elsbrook,” he said.
Chapter Sixteen
“I’ve just finished reading the most beautiful romance novel,” Sybil gushed the following morning at breakfast.
“Hm?” Rowena murmured, embarrassed by being so distracted when her younger sister had spoken. She had noticed her father was absent from the meal and that her mother seemed very agitated. She had been trying to figure out what could be going on when her sister broke into her thoughts. Blushing, she gave Sybil a sheepish smile. “Which novel?”
But immediately, she was sucked into her thoughts again. Her mother looked tired and tense in a way that made Rowena’s heart ache. She was sure it had something to do with the family’s finances. Or, perhaps, Lord Worthingwood had begun getting vicious with his wife as well as his middle daughter.
“Oh, I wish to marry for love,” Sybil was saying.
Rowena looked up to see the dreamy look on her younger sister’s face. Despite her own situation, she was thrilled that Sybil still had notions of finding true love.
The viscountess, however, did not seem so happy. She whipped her head up to look at her youngest daughter, her eyes wide and wild.
“Love matches are not always possible,” she said.
Sybil’s face fell a little, and Rowena’s heart ached. It was clear it was their dire financial situation that was troubling her mother. And, if she was not careful, something would slip in front of Sybil to let her know just how bad things really were.
“Sister,” Rowena said sweetly, “would you be so kind as to give me a moment alone with Mother?”
Sybil nodded, giving her sister a small smile.
“Of course,” she said. She gave her mother a sad, apologetic look and then left the other two women alone in the room.
Rowena turned to her mother, preparing to ask her what had caused her to have such an outburst. But before she could, the viscountess burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. Rowena moved to sit beside her mother, rubbing her back gently until her sobs subsided. When the viscountess finally lifted her head once more, Rowena handed her mother her handkerchief.
“Mother,” she said softly. “What is it?”
