trousers and fencing a small boy was the thing to do. "I do not mind at all," he said, and motioned for the footman. "Thompson, bring round the whiskey, will you?" He smiled at Marlaine and gently squeezed her dainty hand.
God, he needed a drink.
It was the thing to do.
Chapter 7
Rosewood, four months later
Paul moved slowly down the narrow hall to the drawing room, dreading the meeting with Ethan. A summons from his uncle was never good news, and he was sure this had to do with Lauren. It had to be; their funds were almost depleted, and the profits from this year's corn crop had been worse than expected. If he knew Ethan—and he did—there could be only one reason for this sudden little family meeting.
He entered the drawing room where Ethan was seated, as usual, in front of the fire. Lauren was quietly picking up the mess around him. "At last, he joins us," Ethan grumbled.
"What is it, Uncle?" Paul sighed, limping to the hearth.
"I have news," Ethan mumbled irritably, and poured a brandy. "There is a trust, reverting to Paul on his twenty-first birthday," he abruptly announced.
Trust? There was no trust! Paul's sense of foreboding began to heighten. "I beg your pardon?" he said slowly. "
What
trust?"
"Now don't get overwrought. It is not a
big
trust, just a little something your grandfather put aside, the stingy old—"
"Why have I not been made aware of this before now?" Paul demanded, the foreboding turning swiftly to anger.
"Well, as you could not
have
it before you reach your twenty-first year, I did not see the point."
Paul was about to tell him
exactly
the point, but Lauren startled him with a gleeful laugh. "This is
wonderful
news! Oh, Paul, you shall have money to invest, just as you have wanted!" Beaming, she whirled toward Ethan. "How much, Uncle?"
"Five thousand pounds," he muttered.
Lauren clasped her hands to her chest. "Five
thousand
pounds?"
"But I borrowed it," Ethan said bluntly.
Stunned silence filled the room as Ethan casually sipped his brandy. At length, Paul found his voice.
"You
borrowed
it?"
"For Chrissakes! I had to have
something
to set her up in London, didn't I?" Ethan blustered. "You think a Season is bought with a bloody song?"
It took Paul a moment to realize what Ethan was saying. He glanced at Lauren; she looked completely stricken. "
Ethan!
" he roared, the cry reverberating throughout the house. "What have you
done?
"
"What any man would do in my situation," Ethan said simply, and turned away. Anger exploded in Paul's chest; he lunged across the small room for Ethan, his hands grasping for his fleshy throat. Lauren flew between them, unbalancing him and causing him to stumble backward.
"Am I to expect everyone in this godforsaken house is mad?" Ethan bellowed, and straightening his lapel, lifted the snifter, intending to sip. But Paul lunged again, slapping it from his hand and knocking the glass and it's precious contents to the worn carpet.
"By God, you will find yourself
dead
if you touch me again!" Ethan roared, and attempted to push himself from his chair.
"Stop it,
stop it!
" Lauren cried, and pushed Ethan into his chair. "Paul! Whatever he has done does not warrant violence! And
Ethan!
" she snapped, leveling a heated gaze on their corpulent uncle. "You had best have a good explanation for stealing Paul's inheritance!"
"I did not
steal
it! I am your legal guardian! I had every right and every reason!" Ethan shouted, and looked helplessly to the carpet where his snifter lay on its side. "Is it not obvious to the two of you that we are in need of funds? This little spot of hell can't produce a bloody stalk of
wheat
," he grumbled, and gestured meaningfully toward the window and the Rosewood estate beyond.
"You have
stolen
from me!" Paul responded contemptuously, his rage barely contained.
"
I
am executor of this estate, not
you!
" Ethan shouted defensively. "I will determine what is to be done!
You cannot know the pressures I feel, having a bunch of
God, he needed a drink.
It was the thing to do.
Chapter 7
Rosewood, four months later
Paul moved slowly down the narrow hall to the drawing room, dreading the meeting with Ethan. A summons from his uncle was never good news, and he was sure this had to do with Lauren. It had to be; their funds were almost depleted, and the profits from this year's corn crop had been worse than expected. If he knew Ethan—and he did—there could be only one reason for this sudden little family meeting.
He entered the drawing room where Ethan was seated, as usual, in front of the fire. Lauren was quietly picking up the mess around him. "At last, he joins us," Ethan grumbled.
"What is it, Uncle?" Paul sighed, limping to the hearth.
"I have news," Ethan mumbled irritably, and poured a brandy. "There is a trust, reverting to Paul on his twenty-first birthday," he abruptly announced.
Trust? There was no trust! Paul's sense of foreboding began to heighten. "I beg your pardon?" he said slowly. "
What
trust?"
"Now don't get overwrought. It is not a
big
trust, just a little something your grandfather put aside, the stingy old—"
"Why have I not been made aware of this before now?" Paul demanded, the foreboding turning swiftly to anger.
"Well, as you could not
have
it before you reach your twenty-first year, I did not see the point."
Paul was about to tell him
exactly
the point, but Lauren startled him with a gleeful laugh. "This is
wonderful
news! Oh, Paul, you shall have money to invest, just as you have wanted!" Beaming, she whirled toward Ethan. "How much, Uncle?"
"Five thousand pounds," he muttered.
Lauren clasped her hands to her chest. "Five
thousand
pounds?"
"But I borrowed it," Ethan said bluntly.
Stunned silence filled the room as Ethan casually sipped his brandy. At length, Paul found his voice.
"You
borrowed
it?"
"For Chrissakes! I had to have
something
to set her up in London, didn't I?" Ethan blustered. "You think a Season is bought with a bloody song?"
It took Paul a moment to realize what Ethan was saying. He glanced at Lauren; she looked completely stricken. "
Ethan!
" he roared, the cry reverberating throughout the house. "What have you
done?
"
"What any man would do in my situation," Ethan said simply, and turned away. Anger exploded in Paul's chest; he lunged across the small room for Ethan, his hands grasping for his fleshy throat. Lauren flew between them, unbalancing him and causing him to stumble backward.
"Am I to expect everyone in this godforsaken house is mad?" Ethan bellowed, and straightening his lapel, lifted the snifter, intending to sip. But Paul lunged again, slapping it from his hand and knocking the glass and it's precious contents to the worn carpet.
"By God, you will find yourself
dead
if you touch me again!" Ethan roared, and attempted to push himself from his chair.
"Stop it,
stop it!
" Lauren cried, and pushed Ethan into his chair. "Paul! Whatever he has done does not warrant violence! And
Ethan!
" she snapped, leveling a heated gaze on their corpulent uncle. "You had best have a good explanation for stealing Paul's inheritance!"
"I did not
steal
it! I am your legal guardian! I had every right and every reason!" Ethan shouted, and looked helplessly to the carpet where his snifter lay on its side. "Is it not obvious to the two of you that we are in need of funds? This little spot of hell can't produce a bloody stalk of
wheat
," he grumbled, and gestured meaningfully toward the window and the Rosewood estate beyond.
"You have
stolen
from me!" Paul responded contemptuously, his rage barely contained.
"
I
am executor of this estate, not
you!
" Ethan shouted defensively. "I will determine what is to be done!
You cannot know the pressures I feel, having a bunch of
Similar Books
