Lyon's Gate (Sherbrooke Brides 9)

“But new ones are well begun in Baltimore,” Hallie said. “So many females running toward him in the rain, bumping umbrellas.”

Charles burst out laughing. “Good God, I can picture that.”

Hallie said, “I, myself, sir, saved Jason from a bevy of eager ladies at the ball last evening. Their strategy—a lovely narrow wedge headed by a very determined young lady—was excellent, but I was faster.”

Jason rose. “All of this must be amusing to the two of you. I, however, have work to do, work that will make me sweaty and dirty and completely unappetizing to the fairer sex.”

“Not Cook.”

Lord Carlisle’s lovely eyebrow went up again. “Cook? What is this?”

Hallie said, “Cook swoons whenever she sees Jason. He’s caught her twice now, one time she took him to the floor. When he is at the table, we eat very well indeed. If not, why, both Mrs. Tewksbury and I lose flesh.”

Jason threw up his hands and walked out. Hallie, without pause, said, “It took me long enough to arouse him. Thank you for your assistance, sir. Now, you will tell me what is going on with Lord Renfrew. There is no reason for Jason to have to suffer through another recital of the man’s mental and moral failures. He told you our history, I presume?”

Charles nodded slowly. “He told me he was foolish, that he didn’t realize the value of the precious jewel in his very hand.”

“Surely you’re making that up. Elgin really said such an idiotic thing?”

“Well, perhaps not. It’s difficult to know, Miss Carrick, whether to flatter, to soften, or to spit things right out into the open.”

“Spit, please, sir.”

“Only if you will call me Charles.”

“No, I don’t know you well enough yet. Please don’t ask me until sometime next week, if, that is, you’re still in the neighborhood.”

“You wound me, Miss Carrick.”

“I doubt that. Like Jason, I have a lot of work to do.”

Charles finished off his tea, sighed, and sat back in his chair, legs stretched in front of him. “Elgin’s father drank, his mother took lovers—he had a very difficult family—”

“You will not make excuses for him. Elgin Sloane is a man, he must be held responsible for his actions. That he obviously believed me to have less mental aptitude than a cow—well, now, that’s a painful tonic to swallow. However, when I discovered the truth, I would have shot an arrow through his gullet if I’d had my bow with me.”

“As I said, Miss Carrick,” Charles said, “Elgin made some bad decisions, decisions he bitterly regrets. He has changed. He has grown into his years, although it has taken him longer to grow since he lied about his age.”

“How old is Lord Renfrew?”

“I know for a fact that he is thirty-three.”

She laughed, simply couldn’t help herself. “Twenty-four months, he lied about twenty-four months. He believed that to an eighteen-year-old-girl head over boots in love, twenty-four months would make a difference?”

“One never knows about females. My own wife was a mystery to me until the day she died. I see you are still feeling the pain of the blow he struck you.”

“What blow was that?”

“What he did isn’t all that dishonorable, Miss Carrick. Elgin desperately needed money to restore his uncle’s estates. The old man was a wastrel, unworthy of his lands and title. Elgin knew he would have to make the ultimate sacrifice.”

“The ultimate sacrifice,” Hallie repeated slowly, savoring the words. “I had no idea I had achieved such status. That’s the only blow he told you about?”

“Good grief, there’s another?”

“Indeed. The thing is, Lord Renfrew was bedding another woman at the sa

me time of our betrothal.”

Charles winced. “I can see why he wouldn’t want to admit that to me. That does make him appear in a rather stupid light, doesn’t it?”