Page 4 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
His nostrils flared, but he reined in his temper. “Nor did I.”
“Oh.” She gazed blindly around, not taking anything in. “Oh.”
She stood and paced the length of the room, her skirt fluttering around her slender frame as she muttered under her breath, a frantic edge to her usually composed demeanor.
“Mr. Smith’s business partner is attempting to have him apprehended and returned to London. Hopefully, we may reclaim some of our lost fortune from him. However, I do not think we can rely on that.”
If Mr. Smith had known things were going downhill, it seemed likely he’d have taken steps to ensure he was able to disappear once he left the city. He must know that the only way he would get away with defrauding one of the most prominent members of society was by becoming a ghost.
Lady Drake paused in her pacing. “How dire is the situation?”
He rested his forearms on his thighs. “We will know tomorrow. But from the sounds of it, we can’t expect much.”
“It isn’t right.” She grabbed fistfuls of her skirt and clenched and unclenched her hands. “He can’t get away with this.”
“Hopefully, he doesn’t.” Andrew rose to his feet, his legs trembling beneath him. “In the meantime, we need to decide what to do if we don’t get any of our money back.”
The sensible thing would be to start releasing members of staff from their contracts, but most of their servants had worked for the Drakes for years, if not decades. He didn’t want to be responsible for causing them any hardship—especially not because of his own laziness.
Perhaps if he’d paid more attention and been more actively engaged with their investments and finances, this wouldn’t have happened. He’d been too blasé, believing themsafe because of all the generations of wealthy Drakes who’d come before them.
“Is that a possibility?” the dowager asked, one of her hands subconsciously smoothing over her simple chignon. “That we will not see anything he has taken?”
Andrew pressed his lips together and struggled not to show how scared he was. “We must prepare for the worst.”
“Very well.” She nodded to herself and tapped her index finger against her pointed chin. “Lord, it is difficult to think during such stressful times. I suppose, if we need to replenish the coffers, that the fastest and most obvious way to gain access to money is through marriage.”
He gasped. “Surely you aren’t suggesting that we marry off Kate? She’s far too young.”
Lady Drake tsked. “Of course not.” She gave him a pointed look. “Even if Kate were of an age to marry, she would require a dowry, which it seems we do not have. You, however, do not require a dowry, and I know for a fact that there are many girls from wealthy families who would happily become the next Countess of Longley.”
Dear God.
She wanted him to marry?
He knew he would have to do so at some point, if only to secure an heir for the next generation. He had nothing against the idea of taking a wife, but he always believed that when he did so, it would be because a particular lady had caught his interest, rather than as a sacrifice on the altar of matrimony to restore his family’s fortune.
He strode out of the room, down the corridor, and pushed open his office door. Without looking around, he went straight to the cabinet, pulled out a bottle of his favorite brandy, and poured a healthy portion into a glass. He tossed it back, wincing as the alcohol burned down his throat, then poured himself another.
Hell, if he were broke, this bottle may be the last one hewould be able to enjoy until they’d solved their financial dilemma.
He sipped the brandy this time, then, after a brief hesitation, poured a sherry for his mother and carried both glasses back to the drawing room. He passed hers over. She accepted it without comment and drained the glass almost as quickly as he had.
“There must be another way,” he said, his chest tight with panic.
“We can think on it,” the dowager said, eyeing her empty glass with disapproval. “But I believe marrying an heiress with a substantial dowry is the most straightforward way to obtain more money. I know you don’t wish to marry for such crass reasons, but you can’t rule it out yet. Just consider it. Perhaps one of the heiresses will appeal to you.”
He huffed. “That would be convenient.”
However, it seemed unlikely. Even if he found an heiress he was attracted to, how could he justify marrying her under false pretenses?
“Marriages of convenience are not uncommon among the ton,” his mother murmured, as if privy to his thoughts.
“Usually, both parties are aware of what they are participating in when that occurs,” he replied. “I, for one, would rather the ton not know of our changed fortune. Do you feel differently?”
Lady Drake scrunched her nose, and after a long hesitation, she shook her head. “No.”
The clock ticked over the hour, and Andrew jolted, recalling his scheduled rendezvous with Florence.
