Free The Player (Rockliffe Book 3) by Stella Riley Page B

self-made man, my lord.   Most of his earliest profits came from the
export of cloth to Italy but, more recently, he has invested in extensive
tracts of land in Yorkshire, Lincolnshire and Nottinghamshire. Virtually all of
these are being farmed using the latest methods and produce very high
yields.   In addition to all this, Mr
Maitland has lately begun buying government stock from which he receives a
substantial return.   His main residence
is still a house in the centre of Halifax, with workshops and packing-sheds at
the back of it.’   Mr Lessing paused, as
if for dramatic effect and looked up smiling.   ‘As for his net worth … I estimate it to be in the region of seven
hundred thousand pounds. Possibly more.’
    The light grey eyes flew suddenly wide.
    ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Perfectly.   Mr Maitland is an extremely busy and astute fellow.’ Mr Lessing allowed
himself a small smile.   ‘And there is one
more thing.   He has fewer blood relatives
than one might suppose.   A half-brother,
with whom he is apparently not on good terms;   a nephew, currently living in York and a couple of cousins who I believe
to be of a similar age to Mr Maitland himself.’
    ‘All of which,’ said Sarre slowly, ‘suggests that
the girl is his natural heir?’
    ‘I believe that may arguably be the case.   And even allowing for other bequests or
charitable donations, it would still make the young lady quite fabulously
wealthy.’
    The Earl stared at him for a long moment.
    ‘ Merde ,’
he breathed.

 
    ~   *   *   ~   *   *   ~

FIVE

 
    Caroline leaned back against the squabs of Lady Brassington’s
ancient, badly-sprung carriage and stared wearily out into the darkness.   They had been to Viscountess Newlyn’s ball at
her house near Syon Park and now faced a return drive of an hour or more.   Lady B appeared to feel the discomfort and inconvenience
to be of small importance when compared to the prestige of the invitation.   Caroline, who had spent a more than usually
trying evening, wondered irritably how many more such treats her ladyship had
in store.
    The evening had begun well enough. Caroline had
vetoed all of Sylvia’s innovative ideas with regard to her hair and insisted on
a smooth, simple style which suited her better and stood some chance of staying
in place.   In addition – on the advice of
Cassie Delahaye – she and Lavinia had spent most of the day laboriously denuding
one of her gowns of every extraneous ribbon, ruffle and bit of beading until it
was as plain as it could possibly be.   Nothing could be done about the colour, of course.   It was still a virulent shade of green which
bleached the life from Caroline’s skin and made her look as though she’d been
ill.   But the whole toilette was a definite improvement on previous attempts and even
drew a guarded compliment from Lady Brassington.
    Unfortunately, after this promising start, the
evening itself went steadily downhill.   The Delahaye’s were not present but Cecily Garfield and her brother
were.   Caroline hadn’t met Lewis Garfield
before and wouldn’t be sorry not to encounter him again.   Having been more or less dragooned into
dancing with her by their hostess, he either stared over her head with an
expression of long-suffering or interrogated her on the nature and profitability
of Grandfather Maitland’s business.   By
the time they parted company, Caroline wanted to tip a bowl of blancmange over
his head.
    Next and in rapid succession, Lady Brassington
presented her to three young gentlemen who appeared barely old enough to
shave.   The first still had spots, the second
kept tripping over his feet and the third was more than a little drunk.   Gritting her teeth, Caroline stood up with
all three of them and then, deciding enough was enough, took refuge in the
ladies retiring-room where she enjoyed ten minutes of blissful tranquillity
until Cecily Garfield came along to spoil it. Caroline let the first