A Too Convenient Marriage

‘Stop.’ Lord Rockland’s booming voice pulled him back, muzzling but not completely checking the bull’s anger. ‘I think we’ve had enough fighting for one night. I believe an apology is in order, Mr—?’

‘Connor.’ Justin jerked straight the lapels of his coat.

‘I’m sorry for offending you this evening and for holding you responsible for an inappropriate situation in which you were not involved.’ Lord Rockland laid a large hand on his chest, his diamond ring flashing in the lantern light. ‘Surely you understand how easy it was to make such a mistake.’

‘No, not particularly.’

‘Then perhaps you can understand the need for discretion.’

‘It’s not my discretion you need to worry about.’ He flung a look at Miss Lambert, who boldly faced him. He had to give the woman her due; she was no cowering miss.

‘True, but I’d like us to come to some understanding about your tact in this matter. If you’d be so kind as to pay a call on me tomorrow at noon, I believe I can make it worth your while.’

Justin wanted nothing more to do with this trio, but he did need money to finally put his last venture behind him and start again. He recognised opportunity when it came crashing through his chaise door. ‘I believe you can.’

‘Good. Until tomorrow.’ Lord Rockland bowed to Justin before ushering his wayward progeny away.

‘He doesn’t deserve—’ Lord Sutton sputtered.

‘After the beating he gave you, I recommend you shut your mouth.’ Lord Rockland’s admonishment silenced any further protest.

Only Miss Lambert dared to turn and watch Justin as she strode away with her father and brother. It was a plaintive glance, but Justin wasn’t in the mood for extending more pity or forgiveness. With his plans for the evening in tatters, he stepped back into his chaise and made for home. With any luck, tomorrow would be better. He’d receive a tidy sum of an apology from the duke, the kind he needed to repay Philip for the money he’d invested and lost in Justin’s last venture, and secure the necessary merchandise to establish himself in the wine trade. Nature had defeated him last time. It wouldn’t happen again. He’d succeed, no matter what Helena or anyone else thought.

* * *

‘What did you think you were doing?’ Lord Rockland roared at Susanna from across the coach as it spirited them away from Vauxhall Gardens.

‘Acting like a slut,’ her half-brother sneered. ‘What else do you expect from a bastard?’

‘Shut your mouth, Edgar.’ Lord Rockland trilled his fingers on his knees. ‘Well, Susanna? Why were you throwing yourself and my promise of your dowry away?’

To have a home, life and family of my own instead of constantly being reminded of how grateful I should be to you for nothing, she thought, but she didn’t dare utter it. She was too ashamed of her foolishness to make the situation worse with the truth. ‘I told you, I went to meet Lord Howsham. We were to leave for Gretna Green.’

‘With the rumours of debt circling him, I’m not surprised he ran after you, or I should say your dowry. Did he compromise you?’ Lord Rockland pressed, though she didn’t know why. Her father wasn’t about to force the earl’s hand, not for his bastard daughter.

‘No, I’m not as stupid as you believe,’ she lied. The truth would see her banished back to the country with all hope of escape lost. Thankfully, the darkness of the carriage kept the shame from lighting up her face. She’d been a naive fool to believe Lord Howsham’s false compliments, but she’d been so lonely and he so attentive and insistent. Lord Howsham hadn’t cared for her. He’d only been after her dowry. She pressed her fingertips to her temples, chastising herself more than her father ever could.

‘If I’d known bringing you to London to try and make a good match would result in you throwing yourself at the first man who flattered you, I’d have left you at Rockland Place.’

She wished he had, but remained silent. It was best not to provoke him. Instead, all she could do was play the dutiful daughter, bite back her anger at his and his family’s treatment of her in what they considered the name of generosity and humble herself once again. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right, I didn’t think.’

‘Indeed you didn’t. Whatever he might have promised you, Lady Rockland told me this morning he’s marrying the Earl of Colchester’s daughter in a fortnight.’

‘Seems he’d rather have a nobleman’s wife and her considerable inheritance than a bastard and her meagre dowry,’ Edgar mocked.

Susanna balled her hands in her lap, wanting to pound on her thighs, the carriage, her father’s chest and her half-brother’s swollen face. Lord Howsham hadn’t just abandoned her for a woman with a more robust lineage and fortune, but he’d told her the deepest of lies a man could tell a woman. She’d fallen for them like some kind of country simpleton, allowing Lord Howsham to press himself on her in the hope he might love her. In the end, it’d gained her nothing but more scorn.

‘You’d better hope Mr Connor and Lord Howsham are both willing to keep their mouths shut about this. If not, what little I’ve been able to achieve on your behalf will be gone,’ her father threatened.

Susanna almost wished it was gone. For all the effort he thought he was extending on her behalf, she’d seen very little love or true concern about her and her future. All he and his wife, Augusta, seemed to care about was getting rid of the taint hanging about their house in the form of her.

‘I can’t believe you’re going to entertain a common man like him.’ Edgar rubbed at the dark bruise forming on his cheek. ‘If I were you, I’d have him thrown in jail for what he did to me.’

‘If I were you, I wouldn’t want such an embarrassing beating made public for all of London to read about in the papers,’ their father answered. ‘As it is, I believe Mr Connor can be of some use to us.’

‘What could he possibly do for us?’

‘He might be the solution to the new problem Susanna has presented us with.’

Susanna’s stomach tightened as it had the morning after her mother’s funeral when Lord Rockland had stepped through the door of their simple wine shop and looked down his aquiline nose at her. She’d known by the way he’d studied her, as he did now, her life was about to change. The little love she’d enjoyed with her mother, who’d done all she could to protect her daughter from the taint of being a bastard among their friends, relatives and neighbours, had ended. Instead of leaving her with all the people she’d ever known, although they weren’t any more loving than the Rocklands, Lord Rockland had taken her into his household to have her moulded into heaven knew what. She’d never been like Edwina, her half-sister and his legitimate daughter, coddled and dressed and paraded through court and the ballrooms. Instead she’d been a barely tolerated companion and chaperon who was now being thrust into society in the hope her family might foist her off on someone else. Lord Rockland should have left her in the wine shop.

‘Whatever you have in mind, I want no part of it,’ Susanna said and was scolded with a cold glare.

‘You’ll go along with my wishes or you’ll find yourself cast out of my house, with the promise of the dowry rescinded and you left, like any little whoring bastard, to fend for yourself. Do I make myself clear?’

‘You do,’ she answered with feigned meekness. Tonight was a setback, but it wasn’t the end of her plans. Her father wouldn’t decide her future as he had when she was thirteen, nor would he get his way. She’d make a life for herself somewhere, somehow, get her thousand pounds of dowry and be free of the Rocklands for ever.

Chapter Two (#ulink_0cd70b40-be41-5564-875c-6667bc3e914c)

Justin stepped into the Rocklands’ ornate Grosvenor Square entrance hall, unfazed by the painted cherubs and knights peering down at him from the gilded ceiling. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in a grand man’s home. In the many years he’d helped his friend and employer, Philip Rathbone, collect debts, there’d been a few titled men who’d defaulted. They’d face Philip and Justin to either return the money or hand over whatever cherished family silver or priceless paintings they’d set up as collateral.

‘Good day, Mr Connor, and thank you for coming,’ Lord Rockland greeted Justin as the butler showed him into the wide study situated near the centre of the house. The books lining the many shelves held little interest for Justin. The experience he’d gathered from his years as Philip’s assistant was more practical and valuable to a man interested in trade than a book full of theories or pretty poetry.

There was no sign of Miss Lambert as the duke led him to a pair of wingback chairs in front of the fire. Between the chairs stood a table laden with a selection of liquors. Now here was something Justin could appreciate.

‘What will you have?’ Lord Rockland asked.

‘Something expensive.’

The surprised arch of Lord Rockland’s eyebrow didn’t trouble Justin as the older man picked up the decanter with the silver brandy tag hanging on a delicate chain around its neck and poured out a healthy measure. He handed the thick glass to Justin, who took a taste, impressed. This was fine drink, not the rotgut he usually endured when he was sent to extract information from common men regarding the suitability of Philip’s potential clients.

Lord Rockland poured himself a glass, then motioned for Justin to take a seat across from him. Once both men were settled, the duke wasted no time getting to the matter. ‘A man like you with such a fine chaise must do well in business.’

‘I do well enough,’ Justin answered with a shrug. The chaise was Philip’s. Justin had been forced to sell his to repay a few investors after the ship had gone down. The loss of his fine vehicle and the matching grey horses had hurt almost as much as the loss of his business.

‘And what exactly is it you do?’ Lord Rockland enquired.

‘I’m in business with a man who loans clients money. I investigate the quality of their collateral and assist my employer in obtaining payment if their debt goes unpaid.’

‘It certainly explains your skill with your fists.’

He pinned the duke with a sharp look. ‘I don’t extract payments in such a way. I use it to defend myself against uncalled-for attacks.’

‘My apologies again for last night.’ Lord Rockland swirled the brandy in his glass, then took a sip. ‘Our emotions were running high after my daughter’s ill-advised adventure. I’m afraid neither my son nor I was thinking straight.’

‘I see.’ Justin didn’t, but he could play along. ‘I don’t intend to continue in my present occupation. I mean to establish myself as a wine merchant, once I have sufficient funds.’

It wasn’t a subtle hint, but he wanted the man to come to the point. He didn’t have time to lounge in Grosvenor Square, drinking a duke’s brandy all day.