Scandal At Greystone Manor. Mary Nichols

died within weeks of each other. She had put him out to foster parents until he was old enough to go to school. From the odd things Drew had told him, he had been subject to physical abuse and mental torment. Mark had always felt sorry for him when they were at school, because when all the boys went home for the holidays, he had been left behind. He had invited him to Broadacres, but until Drew was old enough to make his own decisions he had been forbidden to come on the grounds it would give him ideas above his station. It was when they’d left university that he had been prevailed upon to spend some time at Broadacres before looking for a way of earning a living. Why, if it was family business that had called him, did he make such haste to go to India?

      * * *

      When they had finished their meal, which Andrew insisted on paying for, they parted, promising to meet again soon. Mark hired a hackney to take him to Halliday and Son to consult the son, Mr Cecil Halliday, about the marriage settlement. Mark was a careful man, but he was not ungenerous; he wanted to be sure Isabel had enough pin money to buy whatever she liked in the way of gowns and fripperies without having to appeal to him every time. He was not unaware that Sir Edward was struggling—it was obvious by the state of the house and grounds—and he had waived the dowry he had been offered. He knew how much of a sacrifice that would have been for the others—her ladyship, Jane and Sophie—who might suffer as a consequence. It was the last thing he wanted.

      He was surprised when he arrived at the lawyer’s premises not to encounter Teddy, who was usually scratching away in the outer office. There was another man sitting at his desk.

      ‘Where is Mr Cavenhurst?’ he queried after he had been shown into Cecil Halliday’s office and they had exchanged greetings and handshakes.

      ‘Mr Cavenhurst is no longer with us.’

      ‘Not working here? Where has he gone?’

      The man shrugged. ‘I have no idea, back to his lodgings or home to Norfolk, perhaps.’

      ‘What happened?’

      ‘That’s not for me to say, sir.’

      ‘I understand your reticence, but he is to be my brother-in-law. Am I to assume you dispensed with his services?’

      ‘You may assume that,’ the man said, tight-lipped. ‘I shall say nothing.’

      ‘Very well. I’ll not embarrass you by asking any more questions. Shall we get down to business?’

      * * *

      They spent the next hour fine-tuning the agreement and then Mark set off for Teddy’s lodgings. The young man had flitted owing rent, he was told by the concierge in aggrieved tones. Mark paid the back rent and returned to his hotel. He had known Teddy all his life, they had played together as children and gone to the same school, although Teddy was four years younger and they’d had very little contact while there. They had not attended the same university and afterwards Mark had joined the army in Portugal and Teddy had subsequently taken up the position of junior clerk to Halliday and Son. It was only recently, because of the wedding, they had seen more of each other.

      Mark wanted to like Teddy for Isabel’s sake, but he had always found him brash and insensitive, which had come about, he supposed, because he was the longed-for son and heir. Born between Jane and Isabel, he had been thoroughly spoiled by his doting mama. So what had he done to make Halliday give him the bag? Whatever it was would not please Sir Edward.

      * * *

      He was able to make an informed guess later that evening when he and Drew met at White’s and were joined by two others in a game of whist. One was Toby Moore, an erstwhile army captain whom Mark had known slightly during the war, and the other was Lord Bolsover. They were not two he would normally have chosen to play with, but all the other men present were already settled at their games and he could hardly refuse a polite request to make up a four.

      ‘You are affianced to one of the Cavenhurst girls, are you not?’ Bolsover queried, while they waited for a new pack of cards to be brought to the table. He was a year or two older than Mark, extravagantly dressed. His dark hair was worn short and curled forward over his forehead and ears. His skin was tanned, which was surprising since, as far as Mark was aware, he spent long hours at the gaming tables.

      ‘Yes,’ Mark said. ‘I have the honour to be engaged to Miss Isabel Cavenhurst.’

      ‘The wedding to be soon, is it?’

      ‘In a little under a month. Why do you ask?’

      ‘Curiosity, my dear fellow. I am well acquainted with Cavenhurst.’

      ‘Sir Edward?’

      ‘No, never met him. I meant the son. We have had a few hands of cards together. I am afraid he is a poor loser. I believe he has run home on a repairing lease. I do hope he recovers quickly, I am not in the habit of waiting for my money.’

      Mark could well believe that and wondered where the conversation was leading. ‘No doubt he has gone home for the wedding.’

      ‘So soon? I think not. It is to be hoped his father can come up trumps because at the moment I hold all the cards. I have bought up all the man’s debts and they were spread far and wide. I do not think Teddy Cavenhurst ever bought anything with cash.’ Everyone knew that creditors who could not make their debtors pay often sold the debts for a fraction of the original figure, in order to be rid of them.

      His heart sank, but he hid it with a laugh. ‘Sir Edward has always stood buff for his son. Have no fear.’

      ‘I had heard the estate was in a poor way and Sir Edward hard put to come about.’ Bolsover spoke nonchalantly as he picked up the pack that had just been put on the table in front of him and broke the seal.

      ‘Where did you hear that? I know nothing of it.’

      His lordship gave a cracked laugh. ‘Worried that the lady’s dowry is at risk, are you?’

      ‘No, of course not. I do not know where you obtained your information, but I suggest you tell whoever it is that they are in error. Now, as we have the cards, shall we play?’

      ‘To be sure.’ His lordship finished shuffling the pack and put it on the table. ‘Will you cut for trumps, Mr Ashton?’

      The subject of Teddy and his debts was dropped, but it worried Mark. From the way Bolsover had spoken about the dowry and the Greystone estate, the amount must be substantial. Surely not enough to ruin Sir Edward? How much was it? He could ask Isabel, or better still Jane. She would be bound to know and also the extent of Sir Edward’s problems.

      * * *

      ‘You are not concentrating,’ murmured Drew, during the break between one game and the next as the pile of coins at Bolsover’s elbow had grown. ‘I had already won that second trick, you did not have to waste a trump on it. That is a beginner’s mistake.’

      ‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’

      ‘Dreaming about your bride, are you?’

      Mark smiled, but did not answer. He picked up the cards Toby Moore had just dealt. This was better; he had a good hand. They played in silence and recouped some of their losses. Drew was a very good player; he seemed to know where all the cards were and by the end of the evening they were in profit.

      * * *

      ‘A satisfactory evening,’ Drew said, as they strolled to Jermyn Street where he was lodging.

      ‘I think you must be a seasoned gambler,’ Mark said. ‘Hector Bolsover has a reputation as a sharp, but you made him look clumsy. He won’t like that.’

      ‘What do you know of the man?’

      ‘Not a great deal. I believe he is unmarried and spends all his time in the clubs and gaming hells. I have heard he does not always play fair, though no one has seen fit to challenge him. If he has Teddy’s vouchers, it could go ill for the Cavenhursts.’

      ‘So that was what you were in a