At Last the Rogue Returns (Avenging Lords 1)

“I’m afraid so, my lord. It seems your reputation for business precedes you. Having already sold you thirty per cent they would prefer to keep their fingers in the pie, so it were. I have it on good authority that your brothers are trying to raise funds to purchase the shares they sold to Mr Camberwell.”

“And Camberwell has kept his end of the bargain?” Miles would be fully appraised before confronting his brothers.

Mr Cardon inclined his head. “His undying loyalty to your mother runs like blood through his veins.”

As the youngest son of a viscount, Mr Camberwell had loved Miles’ mother since they were children. Her parents refused to accept his suit, insisting their daughter marry a lord and not a mister. Throughout her miserable marriage, his mother had honoured her vows, though Miles recalled the gentleman visiting the manor on numerous occasions.

“I assume no one knows of the connection.”

“To pay their vowels they sold the shares to Lord Audley who in turn sold them to Mr Camberwell. For the moment, your brothers believe they still own the majority share. It seems with their interest in sport of all kinds”—whores and horses, he meant—“they have no time to concern themselves with business matters.”

“Then I shall continue to hound them until they own nothing but the shirts on their backs.” Vengeance still burned in Miles’ chest but less brightly since meeting Miss Lovell. Indeed, it dwindled by the day.

Mr Cardon removed a battered notebook and flicked to a certain page. “Regarding their current debts, Edwin Harridan-Jones owes thirty thousand pounds in gambling vowels, Stephen twenty-thousand,” he said, reading from his notes. “The house in Brighton is for sale. And I heard a rumour that they are to play in a high-stakes game of hazard set to take place in the backrooms of Brooks next week.”

So they had received the exclusive invitation. Miles owed Viscount Stapleton a debt of gratitude for agreeing to his request. It was at the same event that Drake planned to ruin Baron Bromfield and take the lord’s daughter as his prize.

“Well, you have certainly done a thorough job in my absence.” Miles stood.

“Thank you, my lord.” Mr Cardon packed away his papers. “Oh, I’ve heard talk that another shipping company is reducing its fleet. Perhaps you might be in mind to make a purchase.”

Miles had enough contacts abroad to run extra routes. “Do you know which company?”

Mr Cardon’s cheeks flushed. “Erm, with your permission I can make enquiries.”

“Then do so. I shall send word when I return to Greystone Manor.” As soon as he mentioned his home, Miss Lovell’s delightful face flashed into his mind. It was odd. Despite being just forty miles away, it felt as though he’d left part of himself behind. “I think that’s all for today.”

“Shall I continue to monitor your brothers’ activities?”

“Indeed.”

Miles rang for Copeland, Drake’s butler, to escort Mr Cardon to the door.

Once alone, Miles sat gathering his thoughts. An hour passed before Drake returned from his outing and entered the drawing room.

“Ah, so you decided against going out,” Drake said, heading for the drinks table.

“I found myself a little restless and chose to remain here.” Miles nodded when Drake pulled the crystal stopper from the brandy decanter. “Indeed, once I’ve revealed myself as the majority shareholder of Greystone Shipping tomorrow, I think I’ll go home.”

“Home?” Drake frowned. “I thought you despised the place.”

“I do—I did—I don’t know.”

A sinful grin formed on his friend’s lips. “Does this have anything to do with Miss Lovell?”

“Perhaps, but not entirely. Town doesn’t suit me. I hate the pomp and ceremony.”

“As do I, which is why I shall leave once I’ve claimed my bride.”

“You’re confident you can win?”

Drake looked at him incredulously and thrust the glass of brandy into Miles’ hand. “I’ve trained for three years, played against the best. Of course I can win.”

They spent a few minutes discussing tactics before the conversation returned to Miss Lovell.

“There’s something I meant to tell you when I came in,” Drake began, and from his strained expression Miles knew it was unpleasant. “There’s talk about you round town.”

Miles breathed a sigh. “There is always talk about me.”