My Honourable Viscount - Lords of Reluctance Book 2

Chapter Three

"Please, do so and let us know as soon as possible," Lord Ashington said. He glanced at the mantel clock, and noticing the time, he rose from behind the desk. "We should be going, Peter, if we are to arrive for our interview with Sir George at the appointed hour." He turned to his solicitor. "You are coming with us, are you not?" 

"As you wish, my lord," Mr Wentworth said, rising out of his chair. "The settlements can be settled today then?" 

"Yes, I would not like to be cheated again," Lord Ashington muttered, so softly his companions barely heard him. 

Twenty minutes later, the Earl of Ashington's Town carriage drew up in front of Fulham House, pulled by four magnificent matched bays. Using the burgundy painted equipage with its gold crest was a calculated strategy on the earl's part, designed to inform Sir George Fulham exactly whom he was dealing with. It certainly worked on the butler who, when he opened the door and caught sight of the carriage, stiffened his spine more than was humanly possible and treated them with a deference reserved for royalty. Even Mr Wentworth received this treatment. 

They were shown into a study, sparsely furnished with heavy mahogany and dark draperies. The minimum of candles burned, giving the room a dark and foreboding aspect. 

Sir George was behind his desk. He did not rise upon their entry, a discourtesy that Lord Markham perceived as a calculated insult. Sir George waved them to chairs. "This is indeed an unanticipated pleasure, my Lord Ashington," Sir George said, leaning back in his chair. 

"Indeed, Fulham? I was under the impression you were the one who arranged this interview," said the earl grimly. 

Sir George smiled thinly. His heavy face seemed unsuited to such frivolous exercise. His hard eyes did not lighten. "A sense of humour is always an advantage, my lord," he observed. 

"I see no humour in this business," Lord Ashington said coldly. 

"Ah, but I do, Ashington," Sir George said softly. He was aware of the earl's anger at his deliberate lack of respect by addressing his lordship without making use of his title. However, he was obscurely disappointed the earl did not call him on it. "You realise the irony, of course. Hat in hand and all of that." 

The earl's lips tightened. His eyes were icy. "Quite. I would like to conclude this interview as quickly as possible." 

"And I," Sir George agreed. He tapped a number of papers underneath his wide hand. "As we have previously discussed, these are the mortgages on your estates, as well as your ancestral home. I also hold the vowels of honour you lost to me at cards. The total comes, if I am not mistaken, to forty thousand pounds. I assume the gentleman you have brought with you is your man of business." He waved a languid hand toward Mr Wentworth, not deigning to even look at him. 

Lord Ashington gritted his teeth. "Yes. But, are you not placing the cart before the horse? My son has not agreed to the marriage as yet." 

Sir George hid his rising ire behind an impassive mask. "I do not believe you have a choice, Ashington," he said softly. "You would prefer to see yourself in debtor's prison, your historical birthplace and estates broken up and sold, your tenants turned into homeless beggars, my lord." 

"What is it you actually want, Fulham?" Lord Markham ground out through clenched teeth. "It seems you have gone to an awful amount of trouble to find a husband for your niece, when you could have chosen a more honourable course of action. I believe there is more to this than you are telling us." 

Sir George's hard eyes glittered. "It is simple really, I want your name." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin.  

Lord Markham stared. The man was mad, he thought. He laughed and replied in clipped contempt. "You damned fool! If you wished for a higher title, loan Prinny enough of the ready and he should be suitably appreciative to bestow on you at least a viscountcy. He is always in need of funds."