Free Claiming the Chaperon's Heart by Anne Herries Page B

can to keep our dear friend from harm—but if I were sure of Hargreaves’s unkind nature I should speak to Lord Frant of it.’
    ‘I dare say he would not believe you,’ Will said. ‘However, be a little careful in your dealings with the pair of them. You’ve suffered enough, Jane. I would have no harm come to you either.’
    ‘I do not think Lord Frant means me harm,’ Jane said and gave him a loving smile. ‘I am well able to control my life, dearest Will. You need have no fear for me—but we must certainly try to protect Melia, for she is a dear girl.’ Jane might have added despite her faults , but refrained.
    Will heard Melia in the hall and went out to join her, suggesting a walk in the park before nuncheon, something that found favour with her. Melia came in to tell her they were going out for an hour, leaving Jane to read her letters and write her answers.
    * * *
    Paul smiled as he read the answer to his letter, which had been sent round by hand. Lady March had suggested that they go to various merchants and emporiums that she had favoured in the past, but asked if she might be privileged to see the rooms she was advising on before they started. He immediately sat down and invited her to visit with his ward and, if he chose, her brother, any morning that week, suggesting the day after next if she had time.
    Paul did not truly expect a reply to his second letter immediately because Lady March must have a score of appointments but, returning at four in the afternoon after a visit to the tailor he preferred, he discovered her letter waiting for him in the hall.
    Lady March and Miss Bellingham would call at eleven on the preferred morning and be delighted to see the rooms in need of refurbishment.
    Paul immediately penned a short note of thanks and assured her of his gratitude for her kindness. He was feeling more hopeful than before, because at least she did not dislike the idea of some hours spent in his company.
    It was as he was drinking a small brandy and smoking a cigar in his library, his mood one of quiet reflection, that Adam walked in. He had clearly been riding and seemed in a mood as he flung down his whip on the sideboard and helped himself to a large drink.
    ‘Something troubling you?’ Paul asked, wondering at his friend’s expression, of anger mixed with something more—was it fear or anxiety?
    ‘Oh, nothing,’ Adam said, but it was obvious that he was disturbed. ‘I had thought to be out this evening—a card party with three friends, but it has been cancelled.’
    ‘Is that all?’ Paul asked, looking at him closely. ‘I can offer you my company for I am dining at my club—but I sense something more. Can you not tell me?’
    Adam hesitated, as if wondering whether to unburden himself, and then shook his head. ‘I may have to leave you sooner than I’d thought,’ he said. ‘I’d hoped—but matters have gone too far and I may have no choice.’
    ‘You visited your father’s lawyers this morning,’ Paul probed deeper. ‘Are things not as you’d hoped in the matter of his estate?’
    Adam snorted with disgust and threw himself down in the wing chair opposite. ‘The damned fools have made a mess of things, if you ask me. They say I must sell...house, land, horses and carriages. Everything my father left me is owed to the bank and more. They tell me I am not responsible for more than his estate is worth, but they cannot tell me how I am to live—or who will loan me money for the scheme we had in mind. I do not have three thousand to put up, Paul, nor yet half as much...’
    ‘I am sorry for it.’ Paul frowned over the news. ‘Are you certain everything must go?’
    ‘It appears my father ran on the bank for years. Nothing is left after the bank is paid—so I must either marry an obliging heiress quickly or return to soldiering. Yet without the allowance my father made me I am not certain I could support myself in the manner expected of an officer.’
    ‘I could put my