Loving a Fearless Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book(62)

Penelope told Avery every interaction she had with Henry that day including the grand finale. He didn’t move during the account and nodded very occasionally.

At the end, Penelope asked, “Is that what Henry told you?”

Avery grimaced. “Yes. A few of the minor details were different, but the story was the same.”

Penelope asked, “So what is going to be done about this?”

Penelope could tell Avery had given it a great deal of thought. His answer was immediate.

“I think you’d be better off in a convent –”

“What?” she said louder than she intended.

“Please hear me out, Penelope. As I was saying, it would be a good place for you; Henry can never get you there, and with your injury, there’s no marriage in your future.”

In a hard voice, Penelope said, “That is not an acceptable answer.”

“Well, Penelope, it may be the only answer since there is extremely limited communication with the outside world.”

Penelope looked away, “I see.”

Avery gave her a small smile. “I knew you would.”

“Our arrangement now, where I keep a roof over your mother and your brother’s heads as well as yours, is done out of the goodness of my heart. I love doing it, and I hope nothing changes in the future that I would have to give up my generosity to your family.

“And you especially. The injury you have had to your face will definitely cause you never to marry. You’re young. You will be a spinster for a very long time. I fully anticipate taking up the task of your well-being for the rest of your life. So, that means spend the rest of your days in a convent or under my generous care.”

Penelope’s voice was shaky. “So, I can go into a convent and not talk that way, or I can live with my family with a roof over our heads indefinitely if I don’t talk.

“Yes.”

“I want you to promise me you’ll take care of my mother and my brother for as long as they need or want your help.”

“I promise. And I want your promise that you will not discuss this event ever again.”

“I promise.”

“You’re very wise and mature for your age.”

“That’s because I’ve had to take care of myself and my family more than most fourteen-year-olds.”

Avery put his hands on his thighs then stood. “Well, now that settled, I’ll leave you to your recovery.”





Chapter 26


Wilson looked up from his papers on the desk. “What is it, Preston?”

“The Duke of Somerset is here to see you.”

Wilson furrowed his brow then sighed. “Show him in.”

Wilson moved around his desk to greet Avery. They bowed. Wilson poured two whiskies, and they sat.

Avery smiled and started on his whisky. “I usually don’t see you this time of month, Wilson, but I thought I’d check in on my investments.”

Wilson readjusted himself in his chair “the Coppermine, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

Wilson turned a few pages in his ledger book and looked up. He thought the delay would steady his nerves, but it didn’t. “That investment was sold to another party on the fourteenth of last month.”

Wilson folded his hands on his desk as if to brace himself from the coming storm.

“Sold. I don’t understand.”

“Sometimes, when another investor shows interest in a certain portfolio and guarantees a larger return on the investment than I can provide, we agree to a portfolio sale.” Wilson looked down at his ledger.

“The new portfolio manager has guaranteed an additional eight per cent return. I thought it an excellent payout to the funds invested.”

Avery nodded. “Sounds reasonable. Who is managing this portfolio now?”

“Nash Finch.”

Avery bolted out of his chair, spilling his whisky on his hand. “This is unacceptable. Why was I not notified of this?”

Wilson picked up his papers and bounced the ends off the desk to make them into a neat, straight pile. He waited until Avery took his seat again and looked up. “When the portfolio return is guaranteed to improve because of the sale, investors do not need to be notified. I still oversee the investment.”

Avery rose again. “Enough of this. You have recklessly used my investment for a benefit I can’t begin to understand.” He pointed at Wilson, “I’ll talk to Nash, and deal with you later.”

Avery’s feet pounded out of Wilson’s office. He slammed the door shut for good measure. As soon as he heard the front door click shut, Wilson called for Preston.

“I’m leaving. I don’t know when I will be back.”

Preston bowed and left. Wilson went out the back door, through the mews onto the next street, and beyond. He could get to Nash’s townhouse quicker by walking than if he took his carriage in the afternoon traffic.

Coleman came into the library. “Your Grace, the Duke of Manchester is here.”

“Send him in.” Penelope put her book down and stood.

“Your Grace,” Penelope curtsied.

“Your Grace,” Wilson responded.

Penelope offered Wilson a chair and sat across from him. “May I call for tea?”