“I met Miss Davies a fortnight ago while she was visiting relatives in the border country,” Colin replied, relating the story he had spent the last quarter hour concocting. “The wedding may seem hasty to you, but it won’t come as a very great surprise to the members of the ton who read tomorrow’s announcement and remember that I danced with three ladies last evening: you, Liana, and Gillian.”
“But, Colin, you’re a viscount, and your father and I had high hopes that you’d make an excellent match,” she said.
“I believe Gillian and I are well matched.”
“Her father is new money. You are old money. Lord Davies just acquired the title of baron,” Lady McElreath reminded him. “Your title predates Macbeth.”
Colin looked his mother in the eye. “Unfortunately, our fortune hasn’t exhibited the same longevity.”
She sent him a sharp look. “I’ll not hear a word of blame against your father for that.”
Colin had always found it rather ironic that while his mother could voice her concerns and frustrations about his father’s gambling to her eldest son, she wouldn’t allow any of her children to do so. “I’m not blaming Father for losing the family fortune,” Colin said. “That decline began long before he inherited. I blame Father for continuing the decline, for not meeting his obligations to his family or to his creditors.”
“He’s a good man. A loving man. He would do anything for me or for his children.”
“Except stay away from the gaming tables,” Colin muttered.
“The gambling is a sickness he cannot control.”
“I know that, Maman,” Colin said wearily.
“He loves you,” his mother said. “He wants only the best for you, his son and heir. He wants a lady from a great family and fortune.”
“I’ve no doubt that Gillian’s parents want a husband of great family and fortune for her,” Colin pointed out.
“We are a great family,” Lady McElreath insisted. “The McElreaths are one of the oldest families in Scotland and England, and my family, the Hepburns, are equally ancient and well-connected in Scotland and France.”
Colin took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it. “Then consider my marriage to Gillian Davies an excellent bargain. I am heir to the great and ancient name and titles, and Gillian is heir to the great and modern fortune.” He gave his mother a firm look that brooked no argument. “Father was your choice. Gillian is mine. And despite what you’ve heard or choose to believe, she is a lady of family and fortune and should be welcomed as Viscountess Grantham and treated with the respect her title and her place as my wife affords her—especially since her money will permit our great family to continue to live the life we’ve never been able to fully afford.”
Lady McElreath inhaled sharply at her son’s tactful reprimand. “I would never make your bride feel unwelcome or treat her with anything less than the respect to which she’s entitled as your wife.”
“I never thought that you would, Maman.” Colin soothed his mother’s ruffled feathers. “I simply wanted to make my position perfectly clear. Just as you will not hear a bad word against Father, neither will I tolerate an unkind word or remark directed at Gillian.”
“You may rest assured that she will never hear one from me or from anyone around me,” Lady McElreath replied.
Colin nodded. “I knew I could count on you, Maman. Thank you.” He finished his coffee and set the cup back down on its saucer. “There is one other detail that demands my attention before the wedding.” He looked at his mother. “I require the Grantham betrothal ring and wedding set and the rest of the Grantham jewels. I wish to present the betrothal ring to Gillian before our wedding and present her with the other Grantham jewels during the wedding breakfast.”
Lady McElreath rang for the butler and instructed him to ask her lady’s maid to bring her jewel boxes. The maid delivered the jewel cases ten minutes later. After unlocking the leather cases, Lady McElreath dismissed her lady’s maid and sent her back upstairs to bed. She handed the blue leather case to Colin. “The red case is for the McElreath jewels and the blue one contains the Grantham jewels.”
Colin lifted the lid on the blue leather case and stared at the top tray. The Grantham betrothal ring and wedding band were missing, and all the other rings in the case were set with cut glass. He lifted two additional trays to look at the necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and diadems stored for safekeeping, then looked over at his mother. “These are all cut glass and paste.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I know.”
“What happened to the real ones?” Colin asked.
“They were sold.”
The only person who could have sold them was the Earl of McElreath: his father, his grandfather, his great-grandfather, or one of his earlier ancestors. Colin suspected he knew all too well who had pawned the jewelry, but he asked the question nonetheless. “By whom? And how long ago?”
“He meant to retrieve them,” Lady McElreath said quietly.
“When? And from whom?” Colin demanded.
Lady McElreath took a deep breath. “It began years ago while you were away at school. Your father pawned a few of the lesser pieces of the Grantham jewelry to pay debts. He meant to retrieve them. He promised that as soon as his luck changed, he’d buy the pieces back from the pawnbroker, but...”
“His luck never changed,” Colin concluded bitterly.
“You were a little boy away at school,” Lady McElreath repeated. “He thought he’d have plenty of time to replace the pieces he’d lost before you reached your majority.”