Page 30 of Why Do Earls Fall in Love?
Chapter 6
Whiddon had a great deal to accomplish in a short amount of time. He asked Sterne to see about arranging the special license, but he took Chester with him to see to the next necessary and distasteful task. This proved wise on two fronts, as Chester’s large form could be quite intimidating, and as the exercise also served to ease his friend’s doubts about Charlotte Mayne.
It took all day, but at last the fruit of their labors were condensed to a sheaf of papers folded into a wallet and tucked into a pocket of his coat. They drank to their success, and the next morning, Whiddon took the wallet with him when he went to meet Lord Burchan’s solicitor and man of business.
Mr. Charrings was prepared for him, and as Whiddon brought along his own man of business—who was notablynotthe family solicitor and not likely to report his doings to his father—things were proceeding quickly.
Until Lord Burchan arrived.
“Whiddon.” Sneering, the baron took the seat Charrings vacated. Ignoring the other men, Burchan raked him with a disdainful gaze. Whiddon took great pleasure in returning it.
“I didn’t think you’d actually marry the chit,” Burchan drawled.
“I suspect thinking is not your strong suit,” he returned.
The baron gaped. “What’s that you dare to say, you insolent pup?”
Whiddon merely lifted a shoulder. “Why would you think so, after all? You did not contact me to force my hand or even ask my intentions. You have not even stopped in to check on your niece, have you?”
“Fine sentiments, coming from the man who dishonored her,” the baron spat.
“Dishonored? I kissed her. I admit it. I should not have, perhaps, but it was not planned or malicious, nor should it have proved fatal to her reputation. All of those charges I lay at your daughter’s feet.”
Lord Burchan straightened. “Do not dare to speak of my daughter.”
“Oh, I shall not. However, my betrothed may choose differently.” He shrugged. “The choice will be up to her. Either way, she’ll have my full support, and if she does choose to reveal your chit’s wickedness, she’ll have the written proof I’ve gathered to back up the truth of the tale.”
“Poppycock. You’ve ruined my niece. And I’ve half a mind to refuse to hand over her dowry.” The baron’s mean eyes narrowed further, as if in threat. “But I’ll be damned if I will let you besmirch my daughter’s name.”
“Oh, you’ll be damned,” Whiddon agreed easily. “But it will come from your own actions.”
“Now you think to threaten me?” the man blustered.
Whiddon sat back. He gestured to the two men of business, still shuffling their papers, their heads down. “Why don’t you tell us, Burchan, what your cook served for dinner last night?”
“What? You’ve gone mad.”
“No. I’m merely curious. How many courses? Five? Six?”
Burchan stared.
Whiddon waited.
“Was it more? Did you entertain last evening, gossiping about your own flesh and blood?”
“No, damn you. We dined quietly at home.”
Whiddon raised a brow.
“Three courses. Four if you count the pudding.”
“I do count it. And did you have a joint? Fish? Perhaps a roast chicken?”
“All three,” the man answered belligerently. “What of it?”
“I just believe it makes a remarkable comparison, when I think of how your sister, along with your nieces and nephew, have had to regularly scrimp and struggle to put food on their table. When I shudder at how they have been forced to barter to afford meat, and just twice a month.”
Burchan stilled. “Nonsense.”
