Page 70 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
He summoned a carriage, donned his coat, and rode in silence, tugging the neck of his coat higher in an attempt to keep his ears warm during the short journey. Perhaps he ought to have waited until hot bricks could be added to the carriage to heat the air, but he’d really rather have this job over and done with.
The carriage stopped outside the Harts’ residence, and he got out without waiting for his footman to open the door. The sooner this was over with, the better. He had nothing against Amelia’s father, but there was very little he’d less liketo do than admit his failure to a man as successful as Mr. Hart.
Ridiculous, really. Mr. Hart must already have known of his financial situation prior to marrying Amelia. He could think of no one else she could have learned the truth from. But knowing he knew it and speaking to him about it were two very different things.
Buck up,he told himself.Time to do the right thing.
He knocked on the door. After a brief delay, the butler opened it and showed him through to the blue drawing room. Only minutes later, the butler returned.
“Mr. Hart will see you in his office. This way, please.”
Andrew followed him, then waited while the butler opened the door and announced his presence to his father-in-law. Summoning his courage, Andrew entered.
“My lord.” Mr. Hart nodded respectfully from behind his desk. He gestured to the chair opposite him. “Feel free to sit.”
“Thank you.” Stiffly, Andrew sank onto the chair.
“Brandy?” Mr. Hart asked.
“No, thank you.” He needed a clear head for this conversation.
Mr. Hart’s expression was approving. “Good man. Mr. Grant, please bring us a pot of peppermint tea.”
“As you wish, sir.”
The butler left, and then they were alone.
Mr. Hart studied Andrew across the desk. His gray eyes seemed to notice everything, and his mustache twitched as Andrew adjusted himself in an attempt to feel less like an exhibit in a museum.
“What brings you here?”
Andrew braced himself. “I assume you know a little about what happened with my former man of business.”
Mr. Hart nodded again.
“The fact is, I can’t allow something similar to happenagain. I need to know who I can trust with my money and how to invest it to rebuild my fortune. Will you help me?”
Mr. Hart kicked his legs out and leaned back in his chair. “Have you thought about what you might like to invest in?”
“I have.” Right now, he was extremely grateful for that fact.
He broke down his thoughts about safer investments and then delved into the more experimental agricultural technology he was interested in.
The housekeeper brought in tea, and they drank while they talked.
Mr. Hart commended him on his willingness to commit to a more stable option first, but pleasantly surprised Andrew by suggesting he invest in the mechanical plow too.
“Don’t invest heavily,” he cautioned. “We don’t know whether it will pay back. I agree with you that if it does, it has the potential to create a windfall unlike anything you’ll get with mining. But only risk what you can afford to lose.”
“I will,” Andrew assured him.
“As for an agent to manage your finances, you can use my own.” He smiled kindly. “I’d trust him with everything I have.”
“That’s quite an endorsement.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “But well-deserved.”
Andrew stood. “Thank you for your time. I want to provide the best future I can to Amelia, and I appreciate your assistance to do that.”
