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Anything but Love (The Putney Brothers Book 1) Page 21
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They had not been happy when Sir Joseph had informed them in no uncertain terms that Marianne Hillis would not be marrying her cousin in this lifetime of the next.
His meeting with Fauntleroy had not been much better.
It didn't help that he'd disliked the man on sight. The banker obviously considered himself a charming, handsome fellow of considerable intellect, while Sir Joseph observed only a study in sublime mediocrity. The moment Fauntleroy realised that Sir Joseph did not intend to bank with Marsh, Sibbald & Company, and was, in fact, asking some very difficult questions about the bank's practices, he dropped the mask of a charming gentleman and became almost sullen.
"I don't see why you consider my actions wrong when I have this letter from Mr Headley quite clearly authorising him to add or withdraw money from Miss Hillis' accounts," he'd said as he waved a thin piece of cheap paper about him.
"But not a letter from Mr Hillis," Sir Joseph had replied pointedly.
"His lawyer confirmed that he appointed his cousin her guardian, and he told me in person that Mr Headley could withdraw sums for his sister's benefit."
Sir Joseph had begun to develop a stabbing headache between his eyes. He'd rubbed at it while he silently counted to ten.
"And did you ever ascertain whether the money was for Miss Hillis' benefit? Did she write, or come to the bank herself?"
The sulky silence told him everything.
"And how much, exactly, has Mr Headley withdrawn from the Hillis accounts? Did you allow him to break into her capital as well?"
"That's not something I can discuss with anyone but her guardian," snapped Mr Fauntleroy. Beads of sweat had gathered on his brow, and Sir Joseph's instincts had told him that there was something deeper going on with the banker, something bigger than the state of Marianne's accounts.
"I have a letter from her authorising me to speak on her behalf," he'd said, sliding the letter across the desk. "You allowed Mr Headley access with less."
"Miss Hillis is not of age, and thus cannot approve of anyone discussing her accounts unless her guardian is present. Is that all, Sir Joseph? I'm afraid that I have an exceptionally full calendar today, but I will be happy to talk about this subject again if you have the appropriate documentation."
Sir Joseph had allowed a smile to play on his lips as he'd got to his feet, for he'd long ago learned that his opponents and enemies were more disconcerted by a grin than a scowl. It made them worry that he knew something they didn't.
"No need for that, Mr Fauntleroy. I have just had word that Mr Hillis is back in London, and as I can guarantee you that he never approved of anything but Marianne's pin money to be withdrawn from her account, I expect he will be visiting you very shortly indeed."
The look of horror on the banker's face had confirmed everything, and so Sir Joseph had set back out for Montgomeryshire the next morning, although not before leaving notes at every possible location Gordon might visit, demanding the boy make his way to Putney Manor immediately.
It was an arduous journey home, although his horses were of excellent stock and able to take the long distances he demanded of them. He planned to stop only one night on the road, resting at the Soldier's Fortune in Kidderminster before making the final, long push back to Montgomeryshire.
"Damned fools," he muttered to himself. "All of them are damned fools."
While he'd never doubted that Cuthbert Headley was behind the attempted kidnap of Marianne, he now understood that the man and his mother were in more desperate straights than he had realised. It had been bad enough for them to use the Hillis fortune to pay off their own outstanding debts, but to occur the same amount again in so short of a time? They were as stupid as they were irresponsible, for there was no outcome that did not involve Gordon reporting them to the authorities.
Unless, of course, Gordon had no choice but to remain quiet.
Or if he could never prove the Headleys acted without Marianne's authority.
As he passed the signage for Kidderminster he was strongly tempted to push on to Clun and visit the Headleys himself, the lateness of the hour be damned, and explain in no uncertain terms why they should cease their actions, and probably leave the country forthwith. His hands balled into fists around the reins as his righteous fury warred with his logical nature.
He could not do it. No matter his anger, his worry, or his outrage, he had promised Hester upon their marriage that his days of dubious legality were long behind him, and he'd done everything to live up to her expectations of him as a country gentleman ever since.
He thought of his sons, and how he'd done everything he could to raise them to be the gentlemen he only pretended to be. His pride in the three of them was something of a joke among his circles, for while so many of them had wastrels and rogues for offspring, Sir Joseph knew that his boys were the envy of all his friends. Despite this, he was becoming increasingly frustrated with Charles. The boy had such an ingrained sense of right and wrong that he would not waver from his path, even when a perfectly easy and acceptable one was open.
The farmland became buildings and then urban streets as he finally entered the city just as dusk began to descend. He made his way along the familiar roads and towards the inn, his thoughts still racing as he tried to determine the best outcome for the situation.
"I should have driven them to Gretna myself," Sir Joseph told his horses as he guided them into the yard of the Soldier’s Fortune. "Gordon would have been elated, and I would have got my grandchildren that much sooner."
It was too late to do anything about it, although Sir Joseph could only hope that Marianne's brother received one of his many messages and made it to Putney Manor within the week. While he was confident that Marianne would be safe inside the walls of Putney Manor, it took only a moment of distraction for an accident to occur. He would not rest easy until the Headley's plan was thwarted, and the two of them chased out of the country by their creditors. Mr King, Sir Joseph strongly suspected, would be taking action on that matter already.
“A damned Orang Outang,” he said with disgust, making the ostlers stare at him in puzzlement as he handed his team over to them. “If she ends up dead because of a damned Orang Outang, I’ll kill Gordon Hillis with my bare hands, and feed his body to the creature whether it eats human flesh or not.”
Chapter Twelve
Sir Joseph's arrival the day before the Ball seemed to cheer up everyone in the house - at least at first.
He took his carriage directly to the stables and then walked over to house a little after one in the afternoon, surprising the family in the parlour, where they had gathered to run through last-minute preparations for the party.
"Joseph!" Lady Putney had cried, then jumped to her feet and rushed into his arms like they were newlyweds. Charles would have sworn he saw the tension lift from his mother's shoulders and felt a pang of jealousy in his chest. While Marianne seemed to very much enjoy his company, especially when he read to her, the most he received was a welcoming smile and an assurance that she would be perfectly well without him.
"Is there news from my brother, Sir Joseph?" asked Marianne, getting to her feet. "Or about Cuthbert?"
"Give the man a moment to gather himself, child," said Aunt Eustacia from her position on the chaise longue. She had tucked up her feet beneath her blue satin skirts, supported her head with one hand as she lazed across the velvet cushions, and cradled a brandy glass in the other.
"I'm sorry, Godmama," said Marianne, and her impatient expression did not match her humble tone. "My apologies, Sir Joseph. You must be in need of refreshments after your long journey.
His father, it seemed, noticed her impatience as well.
"Don't apologise, my dear girl; it was on your behalf I undertook this expedition, after all. I do have news at it happens, although whether good or bad remains to be seen."
"Sit down, my dear," said Lady Putney, decrying any need for him to change out of his dirt. "John, fetch a glass of wine for your father, please.
"
"I trust the roads were good, Father?" said Charles, amused at how much Sir Joseph was enjoying being clucked over by his wife and Marianne.
"Tolerable, my boy, tolerable," replied his father. "Ah, thank you, John! Now, am I allowed to tell you what I discovered, or must I have a hot brick slipped under my feet first?"
"Don't be grumpy, my love," said Lady Putney with a smile.
Marianne dropped down into her chair opposite Sir Joseph, and without thinking, Charles took the one beside her. She reached over and curled her fingers about his own; a nervous gesture she seemed unaware of, but one that made his heart start to thunder in his chest.
He gave her cool fingers a reassuring squeeze. She squeezed them back.
His father took a sip of wine, but he'd caught the gesture and raised an eyebrow at its significance.
"Gordon is back in England," he said, which was met with exclamations from everyone in the room.
"Did you speak to him? Is he on his way here?" asked Marianne, her excitement at her brother's return so palpable that Charles found himself happy at the prospect as well.
For one thing, it would give him the opportunity to ask his best friend what in Hell he had been thinking, leaving Marianne in the care of their ramshackle relatives, and also whether he was opposed to Charles proposing to his sister in earnest.
"No to both," said his father, a shadow of irritation passing over his features. "It seems that he landed safely enough with Amherst, but he had an... extra commission, shall we say, and is in the process of delivering a very valuable item to a safe location. Unfortunately, Amherst could not enlighten me further on the matter, but I left messages everywhere I could think of requesting that Hillis makes his way to Putney Manor with all speed."
"At least he's safe," said Marianne, but she did not look happy about the fact her brother was back on British soil but had not thought to come and find her.
"I am convinced he will turn up on our doorstep within the week," Sir Joseph reassured her. "Amherst was expecting him back any day, and I made it extremely clear that you were in need of him."
Marianne cast a look at Charles, and it was a struggle not to laugh. As the two people closer to Gordon than anyone else in the world, they were both aware of his mercurial mind, and how easily he was distracted from every task but his study of languages. It did not seem fair to tell his father that after the amount of trouble he'd gone to, so the secret remained one shared silently between them.
"Did you ascertain whether Headley has been stealing money from Marianne?" called Aunt Eustacia from her place on the chaise longue. "I'm sure dear Gordon is a lovely fellow, but right now we need to know more about her fortune."
"Don't worry about me fainting, Sir Joseph," said Marianne with a smile. "I am resigned to learning that every last penny of my pin money is gone, and I won't be surprised to learn that all my interest was spent on that awful Tilbury of his."
Sir Joseph didn't answer right away, and the mood in the room changed swiftly as a result. Charles watched his mother place a reassuring hand on his father's arm, while Aunt Eustacia moved to a sitting position. Marianne went very still beside him, and he was suddenly aware that both John and Harry were now standing behind her chair, each of them with a hand placed gently on her shoulder.
"Don't worry, dear heart," said Harry, his attempt at joviality undermined by the tremor in his voice. "Poets are better when penniless, and I'm sure that vinegar and biscuits are cheap enough to live on."
"Tell me, Sir Joseph," said Marianne, her voice strong and clear. "Whatever it is, I am strong enough to cope with the truth. What has my cousin done with my fortune?"
"He's used it to clear his debts both in Clun and London," replied Sir Joseph, his eyes meeting those of Marianne. "He owed a lot of money to some very dubious individuals throughout the city, and unless he won big at the horses without telling anyone, I surmise it was your fortune that paid off Mr King and the rest of Headley's creditors. I'm sorry, my dear, but even with my crude attempt at maths, I estimate that your pin money would only just have paid his debts to King, let alone any of his bills in Clun."
"King!" scoffed John.
Charles wanted to vomit. Somehow Headley must have gained access to the interest on Marianne's investments, and taken all the money set aside for her future to use for his own ends.
He bitterly regretted not milling the cad down when he'd had a chance.
"At least he did something sensible with it," muttered Marianne. "It's more than I would have expected of him."
"I'm afraid his moment of sense did not last," said Sir Joseph.
Despite her strong voice, Charles could feel Marianne's hand begin to tremble. He squeezed her fingers, and after a moment of hesitation, she gripped his hand tightly as though it were the only thing preventing her from drowning.
"Whatever Sir Joseph tells you, my girl, you are my goddaughter, and I just know that my husband will be delighted to have you come live with us in Liverpool," said Aunt Eustacia, and Charles could not tell if the quiver in her voice was due to pity or anger.
"Tell me, Sir Joseph," said Marianne, once again sounding as though she were in perfect control of her emotions. "Hiding it from me will accomplish nothing."
"Headley has taken out new loans all over London, for greater amounts than he'd originally been granted, and at higher rates of interest. He has assured everyone that he will be marrying his cousin, a great heiress, in the near future, and that his debts can be cleared in full after his marriage."
Harry spat out an extremely vulgar descriptor, but no one thought to reprimand him.
Marianne reclaimed her hand from Charles and leaned forward to drop her head against her forearms. She took a series of deep, steadying breaths as Lady Putney appeared at her side, one arm across Marianne's shoulders as she whispered soothing nothings.
Charles felt like the world had gone completely still, leaving him alone in the middle of a tableau. He wanted to wrap his arms about Marianne and kiss her face all over, promise her that she could take every penny he'd ever earned, every piece of inheritance he had ever been gifted, and use it to do whatever she wanted in her life.
He wanted to tell her that she need not marry him, that the money would come without any restrictions or expectations, but that he hopes she could see her way to wedding him, because he loved her so completely, so desperately, that life without Marianne Hillis in it was not worth living, but a life where Marianne suffered was a worse one still.
And then she surprised them all.
She sat up slowly, and it became obvious that she was not sobbing at all, but rather laughing as though she'd been told the greatest joke of all time.
"I'm so sorry," she gasped, before wiping a tear away from her eye. "You must think me a madwoman!"
"SHock can do this to a person," said John, with a haunted look in his eye. "It's not unusual to laugh in the face of horror, Marianne."
"You don't understand, it's not horror," she said, a smile spreading over her face. "Don't you get it? I'm free!"
Her pronouncement was met with silence as she looked from one face to the next for understanding.
"Think on it," she continued. "If Cuthbert has already taken my fortune, then he has no reason to chase after me for marriage. My investments make a very respectable income, but not enough to pay off his new debts. He will need a new heiress to pursue, and for all I think he's nothing more than a grubby little worm, he can be extremely charming when he wishes. Oh, I should write to Miss Juneberry and warn her to be on her guard around him; Miss Hemsworth as well."
Charles met his father's eyes, and it was painfully obvious that Marianne had underestimated the desperation of her cousin. Sir Joseph, however, gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and the whole family, including Aunt Eustacia, knew what he wished them to do.
"I hope you will finally accept my gifts to you with good grace," said Aunt Eustacia as she got to her feet. "I am tired of your constant
demands to repay me for dresses and fripperies and the like."
Marianne laughed as she rose up, and then crossed over to Eustacia with her arms outstretched. "Dearest, more generous Godmama! I am afraid that I cannot repay you even if I wished, although I make no such promise for my brother! He is far wealthier than I am, you know."
"Another topic for me to argue about with your brother," said Eustacia, her eyes shining. "Now I am sorry to break up this meeting so soon after Sir Joseph's arrival, but Hester needs help with some last-minute arrangements for the ball, and then we ladies must begin to get ready."
"Ball?" said his father, looking to his wife with an eyebrow raised.
"More a dance party for Marianne," she explained as she went to join Marianne and Aunt Eustacia. "We might not have been able to take Marianne to the Assemblies, but I saw no reason not to bring the gaiety to us."
"An excellent idea, my love," said Sir Joseph. "How lucky I decided to return today!"
"It just occurred to me that there is no need for me to be kept on the grounds," said Marianne brightly. "Oh, could we still go to the assemblies next week, Lady Putney? Perhaps Gordon and I could take rooms in Newtown, and meet you there."
"If you think that you or your brother will be staying anywhere but under my roof while in Montgomeryshire, you have another thing coming, my girl," said Lady Putney as she shepherded Marianne and Eustacia Melthwaite out of the room. "Now, let us just check on the flower arrangements one last time before we start to prepare ourselves for the evening."
The door clicked closed behind them.
Harry and John dropped into two of the vacated chairs, and all three brothers turned to their father in expectation.
"It's worse than she thinks, isn't it," stated Harry, his usual sunny demeanour gone like the morning dew, leaving the same expression of determination and strength that was characteristic of their father.