Название: Engaging the Earl
Автор: Mandy Goff
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
isbn: 9781408980231
isbn:
Not that he was likely to forget her anytime soonâinjury or not.
In fact, he couldnât remember the last time a woman had so thoroughly engaged his attentionâdespite the fact that many had tried to spark his interest over the years. Marcusâs title was old, his name was well respected and his fortune was considerable. Not to mention he still had his health, his wits and all of his teeth. Even half so many attributes would be enough to draw the notice of matchmaking mamas and their ambitious daughters. But none had caught and held his eye like the young woman who had seemed so very determined to escape his company.
He was still musing on the fire in her eyes when the carriage pulled up in front of his town house. Before Marcus could open the front door, however, someone pulled it open from the inside. The earl was mystified to find Gibbons standing on the other side. The butler looked remarkably alert, considering the lateâor rather, earlyâhour.
âGibbons?â Marcus asked, blinking in surprise. The servant actually doing his job during daylight hours was notable. This was flabbergasting.
His butler looked just as surprised to see him. The eye, Marcus supposed.
âWere you waylaid by a band of ruffians, my lord?â the older man asked.
âNo, Gibbons.â Marcus sighed.
âAttacked by a throng of marriageable young misses?â
Closer to the truth, Marcus reasoned, but still, he shook his head in denial.
âTrip over your feet?â
âLeave it, Gibbons,â Marcus ground out. Gibbons was an old family retainer and, as such, had the liberating knowledge that his position was secure. However, for some reasons mystifying even to him, Marcus was too fond of his butler to dismiss him. Although the notion was occasionally tempting.
Gibbons quirked a smile but then sobered suddenly. âThough Iâm curious to know who accosted you, weâve no time for game-playing, my lord,â he said as though the persistent questions were somehow Marcusâs fault.
âI couldnât agree with you more,â Marcus said, stepping into the house. His eyesâwell, the one that wasnât swollen shut, at leastâwere tired, and his tongue felt thick and unwieldy. Heâd been up now for nearly twenty-four hours, and fatigue weighed heavily on him.
âIâm going to bed now, Gibbons,â Marcus said, pulling off his greatcoat and passing it to the butler.
âI think you might want to go to the blue salon instead,â Gibbons suggested.
âHas my bed been moved there?â Marcus quipped.
âI donât believe you left explicit instructions for us to do so in your absence.â
âThen I can visit the blue salon tomorrow. Right now, Iâm going to sleep.â Thinking was becoming a struggle. If Marcus didnât move quickly, he might end up sleeping in Gibbonsâs chair because he couldnât make it any farther.
âShall I tell your estate manager to rest while he awaits your leisure?â
Marcus stopped in his path to the stairs. He turned to face Gibbons, trying to ignore the knot forming in the pit of his stomach. But Gibbons wasnât smiling, smirking or doing anything that suggested he was joking.
âGrimshaw is here?â he asked.
Gibbons nodded. âHe arrived twenty minutes ago.â
What could his estate manager want? Marcus knew that whatever had happened, Grimshawâs coming to see him in the middle of the night was an ill omen. Anxiety momentarily banished his fatigue, and the earl nearly sprinted to the salon.
âGrimshaw? What are you doing here?â Marcus asked as he entered the room. Any thought of exchanging pleasantries faded at the sight of his employeeâs haggard expression.
âMy lord,â the older man said, rising from the chair. He took a step forward as though to shake Lord Westinâs hand but then quickly stepped backward. âIâm sorry to have woken you.â
Marcus could have corrected him, but he didnât bother to. âIâm only surprised to find you here so early,â he said instead.
Grimshaw nodded. âForgive me, my lord. I wouldnât have intruded were it not of the utmost importance. But once I received the news, I left immediately for London.â
âWhat news?â Countless possibilities paraded through his mind, each one more dire than the one before.
âYou made an investment with Lord Rutherford for some American timber,â Grimshaw said slowly.
Marcus nodded. He only vaguely remembered the investment itselfâGrimshaw handled those detailsâbut he did recall the estate manager mentioning it to him several months ago. The investment seemed sound, and Marcus had authorized the man to deal with it accordingly.
âWhat about it?â Marcus prompted when Grimshaw hesitated.
âThe ship transporting the goods has been in a storm. We canât say for certain, but Iâve received some information that the ship and the merchandise â¦â Grimshaw trailed off, obviously unableâor afraidâto say anything else.
âThe ship and the merchandise, what?â Marcus pressed.
âWell ⦠they might have ⦠itâs not certain, you understand ⦠really, we wonât know anything further until more information surfaces â¦â Yet Grimshaw still didnât get to the crux of the matter.
âGrimshaw, itâs much too early in the morning to be playing guessing games.â
âThe ship has most likely sunk,â the estate manager blurted.
Marcus thought through the ramifications for a few moments before he said anything.
âItâs certainly a tragedy if thatâs the case, Grimshaw. But Iâm more concerned about the crew and any other people who might have been aboard the ship. We can only pray that the reports are untrue.â
âBut the merchandise, my lord?â
Marcus waved the concern away with a negligent slash of his hand. âUndoubtedly, it would be unfortunate. But itâs hardly worth traveling across the country before dawn. I appreciate your diligence in keeping me informed, but I donât see that this is a matter of any urgency. Surely nothing can be done until the reports have been confirmed.â He made a move toward the door to call Gibbons to ready a room. âStay here tonight and get some sleep before you return to Westin Park.â
âYou donât understand, my lord â¦â
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