Thomas had seen the carriage approaching Pemberton from the driveway leading to the main entrance. He recognized the coach as his uncle’s and went to the door to welcome him.

“I was not expecting you, Uncle,” Thomas said.

“I had some business at my estate so thought I would stop by for a visit on my way. I trust Mother is well?”

“Sharp as ever and I am certain she will be happy to see you,” Thomas said welcoming his uncle inside. Uncle handed his hat and walking stick to Willoughby. “Do you wish to see Grandmamma now?”

Wilcox hesitated then said, “I should like to have a word with you first—if you are free?”

“Of course. Come into the library.”

Entering the library, Wilcox headed directly to the side table and poured himself a generous whiskey. He turned, raised his glass to Thomas, and asked, “Might I pour you one, as well, Nephew?”

“Not for me, thank you.” Thomas went to his desk and studied some papers and a ledger before saying, “I wanted to speak to you as well, Uncle. It is most convenient that you stopped by. But you speak first.”

Taking his drink with him, Wilcox walked along one wall of the library as if examining the titles of the many shelved books. He finally turned to Thomas and raised his glass, once again, to his nephew.

“I happened to run into Sir Charles Hudson at the Athenaeum last Thursday. And he was telling me about a dinner party he attended recently where you were also a guest.”

“Must have been Lady Marston’s dinner party. I remember nodding to Sir Charles.”

“Yes. Well, he said that you were being quite cozy with a certain young lady, by the name of…” He waved his hand. “Her name quite escapes me at the moment.”

“Miss Elizabeth Westerly.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“And that concerns you how?” Thomas asked with some irritation.

“Well, Thomas, I thought it was quite clear during our last discussion that you were to seek an alliance with your friend, the quite lovely, Miss Helena Comerford.”

“It was you, I believe, Uncle, who was seeking the alliance. Not me.”

Uncle assumed a forced smile and an insinuating attitude. “But… I thought you understood the urgent necessity for replenishing the estate’s funds. You know the situation we are… you are in… And Miss Comerford comes with such a handsome dowry. You must think of the good of the family in these trying times.”

“And that is a good point, Uncle. And exactly why are these times so trying? I have been going over the estate’s books, and I have many questions as to what is happening with our investments.”

“You have?” Uncle said.

“Yes, and I have noticed that, since I came of age seven years ago, you have still been managing our investment accounts. Tell me, how can you account for that fact? It was my understanding that, once I became the Duke of Pemberton, the sole responsibility for the estate fell to me. Is that not correct?”

“Well, technically that is true. However, you did not seem to take an active interest in management, so I just continued assisting you, as best I could until you did take an interest.”

“I have gone back to the accounts at the time father died, and I found we had a robust and most successful estate balance. Our investments were producing a solid income, and, in fact, it was growing very well. And then when you became guardian things began to slide.”

Wilcox’s expression hardened. “Well, my boy, markets fluctuate and there are no guarantees of a steady income.”

Thomas studied the ledger he had before him. “I understand that. And that is why I am going to London to meet with my solicitors and bankers.” He walked from behind his desk and stood directly in front of his uncle. “And to be perfectly clear, I will be handling all estate business from here on out. Is that understood?

Wilcox did not flinch but held his fake smile and took another sip of whiskey. “I have only ever served your best interests, Thomas, and I hope you understand that as well.”

Thomas did not respond to that statement, but continued facing his Uncle and asked, “You said you wished to speak to me. And how can I help you?”

Wilcox turned and went to pour himself another drink. “Oh, it was nothing of consequence,” he said, turning back to Thomas. “But since we have briefly touched on the topic, I want to stress, again, how important it is for you to make the alliance with Miss Comerford. The estate’s troubles, to which you allude, make it all the more imperative that you act with haste. Miss Comerford is a most eligible and attractive young lady and I would hate for you to miss out on an alliance that would be beneficial to you both. After all, you have told me many times how close you are as friends. Does it not seem logical to go to the next step and make your union official?”

“Your argument has merit, Uncle, but…” Thomas turned away perplexed. “But I…”

Thomas was once again facing his eternal dilemma—when it came to committing to a woman, he found it impossible—no matter how attractive any one woman might be—to give up on all the other lovely women he still wished to know. No one woman had ever completely captivated him to the extent that he wanted to marry her.

And then he was overcome with the memory of Amanda and David, his best friend at the time, running off together to France the morning of his wedding. Alone and broken, he remembered vowing he would never trust another woman—ever again. And that memory continued to haunt and paralyze him.

“Uncle, I am not ready. And I know for certain that Helena and I are not suited for each other. We have known each other all our lives. We grew up together and we are like brother and sister. It is not a match that she and I can contemplate.”

“But I know her father is most anxious for this union. And remember, she brings with her, a substantial living and the possibility of a union of property when the Earl dies. You really should consider the great advantages of a marriage with her.”

“Uncle, I cannot believe you can be so hard-hearted and mercenary.”

“So be it, Thomas. Then you had better find another match that will work—for the health of your estate depends upon it.”

“Thank you, Uncle, for your advice. But feel free to relieve yourself of any further responsibility for the estate. I am taking full control now and you need trouble yourself no further in these matters.”

Wilcox nodded. “Then I think I shall go visit Mama now.”

“Mama…” Wilcox greeted as he entered Augusta’s chambers.

“I thought I saw your carriage drive up,” she said standing up from her desk from where she was writing letters. “Have you been visiting with Thomas?”

Wilcox smiled and came over and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “I have. We have had a most delightful chat. And I am encouraged that he might have an announcement shortly about his marriage to Miss Helena.”

“You think so? Really?” she asked. “That was not my understanding at all.”

“Well… I think he may be coming around after our conversation.”

Augusta patted her son on his cheek and went to sit in her favorite chair. “And what have you been up to, son? It has been a while since we visited. I should like to hear all your news. Come sit with me.” Wilcox went and sat opposite his mother. “Have you been a good boy, Wilcox?” she asked with a teasing smile.

“As good as the golden rule,” he said, teasing her back.

“Hmm. My sources tell me you have been losing at cards rather heavily lately.”

“Mother… your sources. Your sources? You have been threatening me with your sources ever since I was a little boy. Just who are these mysterious sources? I think they are all made up, and you just like to plague me with unsubstituted myths.”

Augusta laughed. “Then you do not have gambling debts?” she insisted.

He hesitated. “Well… perhaps a few. But nothing to be concerned about. Every gentleman has his indulgences that get a little out of hand, now and then.”

“And are there any new ladies in your life, son?”

Wilcox frowned at this. “Mother, ever since Catherine… I have not been able to think of another… We were very close, you know.”

“I know, dear. But is it not time to move on? She has been gone… how many years now?”

“Fifteen. Can you believe it?”

“And you have no children to comfort you.”

“Mother, please… Let it be. I am too old to have expectations. I am quite settled now, and do not wish to try rekindling any new flames.”

Mother adjusted her hands in her lap and fiddled with her handkerchief. “Well, I just want you to be happy, son. If being alone suits you it is not for me to say otherwise.”

They were silent with each other for a moment, and then Wilcox said, “Mother, your sources were correct this time. I am a little short these days. As you may have heard, my investments in the West Indies have been in some trouble, and I do not have the cash on hand that I am accustomed to.”

“Thomas told me about that situation. I did not know you were invested in the Indies as well.”

“It seemed to be such a good investment at the time. I bought shares for the Pemberton Estate and some for myself.”

“I see.”

“And I was wondering if you might be able to loan me… just a little?”

“How little?”

“Five hundred,” he said quietly.

“Five hundred! Son, that is way more than a little.”

“Three then?”

“Even that… is not a little.” She fussed with her handkerchief again, twisting it rather severely now.

“But I have expectations. I should be able to pay you back within a month or two.”

Mother pursed her lips and finally said. “I can let you have a hundred.” She stood and went to her bedroom and returned shortly with bank notes and handed them to him.

“Two months top,” she insisted. “Can you promise me that?”

He smiled weakly. “I will do my very best. And thank you.”

“No, do more than your very best. Promise me.”

“Yes, Mama.”