Page 141 of Oddity of the Ton
“Sir Leonard,” Monty said. “I must thank you for—” He broke off as Sir Leonard raised his hand.
“I wondered how long it would take before you came sniffing round again. How did you find me?”
Yes—it was just like being in Mr. Goodall’s office having been caught transgressing.
Monty glanced about the room, half expecting to see a cane ready for use. “Madame Chassineux gave me your address,” he replied.
Sir Leonard let out a huff. “Under duress, no doubt, after you reminded her of your rank. I find it a great shame that anyone in business must pander to the whims of a titled gentleman who, in my experience, is less likely to settle his accounts than a merchant on time—if at all.”
“I always pay my dues, Sir Leonard,” Monty said.
“I doubt that.”
“I do—I instruct my steward to settle—”
“I wasn’t referring tofinancialmatters.”
Monty glanced at the chair beside the desk. “Sir Leonard, may I sit?”
“When discussing certain matters, I prefer to remain standing.”
“For what purpose?”
“It ensures that a discussion remains on point, and that time is not wasted on unnecessary niceties with individuals whom I hold in little esteem.”
Monty flinched. “I understand your anger, Sir Leonard, but—”
“I’m not angry, Whitcombe—just disappointed. I expected better of you—and had even come round to the notion of having a high opinion of you.”
“You had?” Monty asked, a bubble of pride swelling in his soul.
“Not at first, of course.”
Of course…
The bubble burst.
“At first, I thought you yet another privileged profligate. Of course, men like you patronize my business all the time, with your countless mistresses on whom you shower trinkets and new gowns at every opportunity, to gratify your sense of self-worth in having a bird of paradise on your arm.”
So much for ensuring the discussion remained on point with no time wasted on unnecessary niceties.
“But then,” Sir Leonard said, weariness in his voice, “I saw how my Eleanor blossomed—how she grew in confidence, accepting herself for what she was rather than berating herself for not conforming to the ideal of a young lady. Fool that I was, I gaveyoucredit for that.”
“I take no credit for your daughter’s—”
“Donotspeak of her!” Sir Leonard cried. “I promised that if I ever saw you again, I’d not waste my anger on you. You’d better go before I break that promise.”
“I won’t go until you tell me where Eleanor is.”
Sir Leonard raised his arm, then struck Monty across the jaw with a punch that sent him sprawling to the floor.
Devil’s toes—for a man who looked old and weary, Sir Leonard had the right hook of a prizefighter.
“Howdareyou speak her name!” Sir Leonard caught his breath and placed his hands over his chest. “Get up and fight me like a man, at least,” he hissed. “Or do you define your manhood only in terms of how many maidens you’ve violated?”
“I didn’t come to fight, Sir Leonard.”
“I won’t tell you where she is.”
