LITMIR.BIZ

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later, Justin Trevithick came into the room. He shook Marcus’s hand and gave Eleanor a kiss.

      ‘Eleanor! I’m glad that Lady Trevithick did not whisk you away—’

      The door opened. ‘Her ladyship requests that you join her in the library, Miss Eleanor,’ Penn said, in sonorous tones. ‘Lord Prideaux has called and is with her.’

      Eleanor gave her cousin and brother a speaking glance, then dutifully followed Penn out of the room. Marcus gestured towards the coffee pot. ‘Can I offer you breakfast, Justin? And my apologies for my mother’s transparently bad manners at the same time?’

      Justin laughed. ‘Thank you. I will take breakfast—and for the rest, please do not regard it! The only thing that concerns me is that Lady Trevithick considers Prideaux more suitable company for Eleanor than myself! He is a loose fish, but then, I suppose his parents were at least respectably married!’

      ‘So were yours,’ Marcus commented.

      ‘Yes, but only after I was born!’ Justin leant over and poured some coffee. ‘How do you feel this morning, old fellow? Must confess my head’s splitting! That brandy was nowhere near the quality it pretended!’

      ‘The coffee will help,’ Marcus said absently, reflecting that the brandy had proved to be the opposite of his mysterious adversary of the previous night. She had been Quality masquerading as something else and today he was determined to get to the bottom of that particular mystery. He had told Justin an expurgated version of the whole tale the previous night over the maligned brandy bottle, and his cousin had been as curious as he as to the lady’s motives. Justin had been closer to the fifth Earl than Marcus because their grandfather had taken Justin up deliberately to spite his elder son, but despite his far greater knowledge of the old man’s estates and fortune, he could throw no light on why anyone would want the island of Fairhaven.

      The door opened for a third time as Penn came in. ‘Mr Gower is here to see you, my lord. He says that it is most urgent.’

      Marcus frowned, checking the clock on the marble mantelpiece. It was very early for a call from his man of business, but if Gower had managed to find him rooms well away from Albemarle Street, then the earlier the better. Remembering the previous night, his frown deepened. There was another reason why Gower might have called, of course…

      ‘Thank you, Penn, I will join Mr Gower in the study shortly,’ he said.

      The door closed noiselessly as Penn trod away to impart the message. Justin buttered another roll. ‘Shall I wait here for you, Marcus, or do you prefer to join me at White’s later?’

      Marcus stood up. ‘Why don’t you come with me to see Gower?’ he suggested. ‘I have the strangest suspicion that this relates to the business last night, Justin, and I would value your advice.’

      His cousin raised his eyebrows. ‘Your mysterious gamester, Marcus? Surely she does not really intend to claim Fairhaven!’

      ‘We shall see,’ Marcus said grimly.

      Mr Gower was waiting for them in the study, pacing the floor with an impatience that set fair to wear a track through the rich Indian rug. He was a thin, aesthetic-looking man whose pained expression had come about through years of trying to make the irascible old Earl see sense over the running of the Trevithick estates. There was a thick sheaf of papers in his hand.

      ‘My lord!’ he exclaimed agitatedly, as the gentlemen entered. ‘Mr Trevithick! Something most untoward has occurred!’

      Marcus folded himself negligently into an armchair. ‘Take a seat and tell us all, Gower!’ he instructed amiably. ‘What has happened—has one of the housemaids absconded with the silver?’

      Mr Gower frowned at such inappropriate levity, but he took a seat uncomfortably on the edge of the other armchair, placing his shabby leather briefcase at his feet. Justin strolled over to the window, still eating his bread roll.

      ‘This morning I had a call from a gentleman by the name of Gough who has chambers close to mine,’ Mr Gower said, still agitated. He shuffled his papers on the table. ‘He is a most respected lawyer and represents only the best people! He came to tell me of an agreement between one of his clients and yourself, my lord, an agreement to cede the title deeds to the island of Fairhaven, which is—’

      ‘I know where it is, thank you, Gower,’ Marcus said coolly. He exchanged a look with Justin. ‘Gough, is it? Did he tell you the name of his client?’

      ‘No, sir,’ the lawyer said unhappily. ‘He told me that his client expected—expected was the precise word used, my lord—that I would have the deeds to the island ready to hand over immediately. Naturally I told him that I could do no such thing without your consent, my lord, and that you had issued no such authorisation. He therefore suggested…’ Mr Gower shuddered, as though the suggestion had been made with some force ‘…that I call upon you to gain your approval forthwith. Which I am doing, sir. And,’ he finished, apparently unable to stop himself, ‘I do feel that I should protest, my lord, at the cavalier manner in which this transaction appears to have been handled, putting me in a most difficult position with a fellow member of my profession!’

      There was a long silence. ‘You are right, Gower,’ Marcus said slowly. ‘The whole matter is damnably out of order and I apologise if it has put you in a difficult situation.’

      ‘But the island, my lord!’ Gower said beseechingly. ‘The deeds! If you have an agreement with Mr Gough’s client—’

      ‘There is no agreement,’ Marcus said. He heard Justin draw breath sharply, but did not look at him. ‘Tell Gough,’ he said implacably, ‘that there is no agreement.’

      ‘My lord…’ Gower sounded most unhappy. ‘If there is any way that such a contract could be proved, I do beg you to reconsider!’

      Marcus raised one black eyebrow. ‘Do you not trust me, Gower?’ he asked humorously. ‘At the very most it could be construed as a verbal contract and there were no witnesses.’

      Gower blinked like a hunted animal. ‘None, my lord? Can you be certain of that?’

      A smile twitched Marcus’s lips. ‘Perfectly.’

      ‘But even so…’ Gower glanced across at Justin. ‘A verbal contract, my lord…’

      ‘I think Mr Gower feels that you should honour your pledges, Marcus,’ Justin said, with a grin. ‘Even in a game of chance—’

      ‘A game of chance!’ Gower looked even more disapproving. ‘My lord! Mr Trevithick! This is all most irregular!’

      ‘As you say, Gower,’ Marcus murmured. ‘Have no fear. Gough’s client will never sue. I would stake my life on it!’

      Justin grimaced. ‘Can you be so sure, Marcus? She sounds mighty determined to me!’

      Gower, who was just shuffling his papers into his briefcase, scattered them on the carpet. ‘She, sir, she?’ he stuttered. ‘Good God, my lord, not even the old Earl would have indulged in a wager with a female!’

      ‘He was missing a trick then,’ Marcus said coolly, ‘for I found it most stimulating!’ He rose to his feet. ‘Good day, Gower. Give Gough my message and if you find his instructions are that he persists in his claim, refer him direct to me. Penn will show you out!’

      ‘Marcus,’ Justin said, once they were alone, ‘do you not consider this a little unsporting of you? After all, the girl won the bet, did she not?’

      ‘She did,’ Marcus conceded. He met Justin’s eyes. ‘Truth is, Justin, I would like to meet her again, find out about this passion she has for Fairhaven. It intrigues me.’

      ‘And this is how you intend to flush her out?’

      ‘Precisely!’ Marcus grinned suddenly. ‘I could go to Kit Mostyn and ask for his help, of course, but I would wager he will not grant it! So…if I refuse to honour the bet, my mysterious opponent

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